Belinda was quick to sympathise. ‘We do the best we can as parents,’ she said with feeling.
‘Of course we do, dear lady.’ Eli beamed at her over the top of his spectacles. ‘I’m sure no one could be a better mother than you.’
She could not allow this fulsome praise to pass unremarked, and she shook her head. ‘You don’t know the full story, but I’m doing my best to atone for my past mistakes.’ She held her hand up as Cassy opened her mouth as if to disagree. ‘You only know part of our story, Eli. The past may be gone but we still bear the scars, and the most lasting is our lack of funds. In short, I must find work. I’m quite competent with a needle. Perhaps I could do some sewing for you. We’re quite desperate, or I wouldn’t ask.’
‘My dear Lady Belle, your honesty breaks my poor heart. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? I’m not a rich man but I would gladly help out financially.’
She reached out to lay her hand on his sleeve. ‘You are a true friend, Eli. But I wouldn’t accept a loan from anyone unless I could see my way to repay it. I want to work, and I’ve tried my best to find employment, but it seems I’m unsuited for anything other than making polite conversation, and other equally useless accomplishments.’
Eli did not answer immediately. He sat staring into his teacup, a frown making deep furrows in his brow.
‘I could do a few mornings as well as evenings at the King’s Arms,’ Cassy said eagerly. ‘It doesn’t pay very well but it’s better than nothing.’
Belinda shook her head. ‘You do enough already, my darling. You help Mrs Wilkins and you take young Freddie to school each day and fetch him when lessons end. I’m the only one in the house who doesn’t earn their keep, and it can’t continue.’
‘Lady Belle,’ Eli said slowly. ‘You told me that Mrs Brown teaches the farmer to read and write.’
‘Eli, please call me Belle. I’m not an aristocrat and I have no right to that form of address.’
‘You are in every sense a lady, and I think I might have a suggestion which would bring in a modest income.’ Eli placed his cup and saucer carefully on the tea table. ‘I have many clients, some of whom are wealthy, others are not. But many of the rich merchants and ambitious bank clerks have wives who want to advance themselves in the social scale, if you know what I’m saying?’
His dark eyes twinkled as he met Belinda’s anxious gaze and she was quick to get his meaning. ‘Yes, I think I do. Go on.’
‘Lessons in etiquette and advice on fashion might prove to be both popular and profitable when given by a titled lady, even though you scorn its use.’ His mouth twisted into a whimsical smile. ‘I could put these ladies in touch, if you so wished. With the festive seasons and soirées soon upon us, I think this would be an ideal time for you to start.’
‘Mama, that’s a wonderful idea. You must do it,’ Cassy cried enthusiastically. ‘You are so clever, Mr Solomon.’
Belinda was too stunned to comment. She had never thought of herself as a leader of fashion or an expert in style and manners, but both Cassy and Eli were looking at her with such expectation on their faces that she had not the heart to dampen their enthusiasm. ‘It might work,’ she murmured. ‘If you think anyone would be interested, Eli.’
Two days later, a carriage with bright yellow wheels drawn by a pair of matched bays drew up outside the house in Pedlar’s Orchard and a small, fussily dressed woman in her early thirties stepped down onto the pavement. Belinda had been peering out of the parlour window as she waited somewhat nervously for her first student to arrive. ‘It’s Mrs Ponsonby, the wine merchant’s wife. She’s arrived.’
Cassy leapt to her feet. ‘I’ll let her in, Ma. She’ll think I’m the maid.’
She had gone before Belinda had a chance to argue. She stood by the fireplace, smoothing the creases from her skirts with hands that shook despite her attempts to keep calm. Flora was out for the afternoon giving Farmer Mullins his twice weekly reading tuition, and Mrs Wilkins was below stairs in the kitchen with Freddie. Belinda glanced anxiously in the mirror above the mantelshelf; so much depended on the success of her new venture. They were down to the last of their supply of coal and there were only enough candles to light them to bed tonight. After that, if Mrs Ponsonby did not prove to be a satisfied client, they would quite literally be in the dark, and the rent collector would call on Friday.
The door opened. ‘Mrs Ponsonby for you, Lady Lawson.’ Cassy curtsied deeply, keeping her face straight with an obvious effort as the woman sidled into the room, looking even more nervous than Belinda was feeling.
‘How do, love.’ She paused, looking critically around the room.
‘How do you do, Mrs Ponsonby,’ Belinda said, motioning her to take a seat. ‘Please make yourself comfortable.’
‘May I take your mantle, ma’am?’ Cassy held out her hands to take the expensive but garish red-velvet garment trimmed with gold frogging.
‘Ta, ever so.’ Mrs Ponsonby juggled unsuccessfully with her reticule and an umbrella, but eventually and with Cassy’s assistance, she managed to take off her gloves and her jacket before subsiding onto the sofa. ‘This house couldn’t hold a candle to ours and you a lady. I call that very queer.’
Belinda perched on the edge of her chair by the fire. She realised that she would have to work hard to earn her fee with Mrs Ponsonby. She shot a warning glance at Cassy who was openly grinning. ‘Thank you, Cassy. You may bring the tea tray now.’ Belinda waited until the door closed on her daughter before turning to Mrs Ponsonby with an attempt at a smile. ‘How may I be of service to you, ma’am?’
‘My hubby has made a success of his business and he says I need to speak proper and polish up me manners. What goes in Stepney ain’t good enough it seems for entertaining the toffs who buy his wine. Although it don’t seem as how a title’s done you much good, or you wouldn’t be teaching the likes of me and living close by the gasworks.’ She clutched her hands to her chest, closing her eyes and groaning softly.
Alarmed and thinking the woman must be ill, Belinda jumped to her feet. ‘What’s the matter, ma’am? Are you feeling faint?’
Mrs Ponsonby opened her eyes and belched. ‘That’s better out than in. Blooming lobster always does that to me. Sits heavy in me belly for hours after dinner. I don’t suppose you’ve got a drop of port and brandy, have you?’
Belinda shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. Perhaps a cup of hot water might help?’
‘Lawks, d’you want to poison me?’ Mrs Ponsonby emitted a series of small burps. ‘A cup of tea will have to do. Now let’s get on with the business. How long d’you think it will take you to turn me into a proper lady?’
Forever wouldn’t be long enough, Belinda thought, forcing her lips into a smile.
At the end of the session Belinda had a florin and a headache. But she was able to send Cassy out to purchase a pound of candles, kindling and matches and to pay for a sack of coal to be delivered before nightfall. There was something left to put towards the rent of three shillings a week, although even with Cassy’s wages from the pub they would still be short when the rent collector came to call. Belinda could only hope that Eli would find more clients for her soon, or they would face a less than merry Christmas. Amazingly the clients kept coming. The next morning a timid woman arrived on foot purporting to be the wife of a bank clerk who was seeking promotion to assistant manager. She was a gentle soul, eager to please, and blessed with natural good manners. All she needed was confidence, Belinda decided, and a little town polish. Then at the end of the week, just in time to make up the rent money, a couple of middle-aged ladies arrived in the pouring rain, climbing down from a hansom cab and scuttling into the house chattering like magpies. They were dressed in identical costumes, short capes over dark blue bombazine dresses with white piqué collars and cuffs. Their black bonnets trimmed with matching crepe were commensurate with mourning wear, and their hands were encased in black mittens leaving work-worn fingers exposed to the elements. The Misses Dobson, it transpired, had a brother who was in holy orders and had decided to volunteer to become a missionary in East Africa. Whilst having a tropical suit made by Eli he had mentioned that his sisters wanted to join him, but their humble background made it difficult for them to be accepted by the Missionary Society. ‘We need to speak proper,’ Miss Mattie announced boldly. ‘Our brother learns real quick, but we was at home looking after Ma and Pa until they passed away. We never had a chance to go to school, although Ma taught us to read and write.’
‘Pa was a waterman,’ Miss Mary added, as if continuing her sister’s train of thought. ‘He didn’t hold with women working outside the home. We need to learn what’s what, if you know what I mean.’
Belinda smiled. ‘I think I do, and I hope I can be of assistance, ladies.’
‘Ladies,’ Miss Mattie breathed, clasping her hands together. ‘Did you hear that, Mary? She called us ladies.’
‘That’s a miracle, sister,’ Miss Mary said, wide-eyed and smiling. ‘And we’ve only just walked in the door. Henry will be pleased with us.’
‘Please sit down, Miss Mattie, Miss Mary,’ Belinda said patiently. ‘We’ve a little way to go yet, but you’re halfway there already.’
At the end of the session Belinda could not in all conscience charge them four shillings for what had been a touching and illuminating experience. She could hardly believe that two women, several years her senior, had led such sheltered lives although dwelling in the roughest part of Limehouse. It appeared that they had been kept at home and never allowed to venture out unless accompanied by their father or brother. They had lived as unpaid servants, cooking, cleaning and taking in washing to help with the family finances, but more carefully chaperoned than most young ladies from higher up the social scale. They had never experienced romance or been given the chance to form a relationship with the opposite sex. They were like two children in ageing bodies, but so eager to accompany their brother to a foreign land in order to spread the word of God that they made Belinda feel humbled and guilty for taking all her previous good fortune for granted.
‘We’ll come again next week,’ Miss Mattie said, following Belinda into the hallway with her sister hurrying after her.
‘We’ve learnt so much from you today,’ Miss Mary added breathlessly. ‘Henry will be pleased.’
Opening the door, Belinda glanced outside and realised that it was still raining, a fine misty drizzle that would soon soak them to the skin. It was getting dark and the gas lamps created golden pools on the wet pavements. ‘Ladies, you should get a cab,’ she said anxiously.
‘We’ll find one in the Commercial Road, I expect,’ Miss Mattie said bravely.
‘Henry gave us the money,’ her sister added proudly. ‘He is such a good brother.’
The sound of a horse’s hooves made Belinda peer out into the gloom. ‘There’s a cab, ladies. And it’s coming this way.’ She stepped down onto the pavement, waving her hand to attract the cabby. ‘It’s stopping.’ She was about to step back into the house but something caught her attention as the cab drew to a halt a little way down the street and the occupant swung the half-door open and prepared to alight from the cab. She could not make out his features clearly but she would have known him anywhere. Disregarding the fact that her gown was already soaked through, Belinda picked up her skirts and ran.
Chapter Seventeen
Cassy was about to go into the front parlour to retrieve the tea tray, but the noise from outside the house added to the fact that the front door was wide open made her pause in the hallway. She had seen her mother step outside to say goodbye to the two strange women, but she had thought little of it until now. Holding the oil lamp in her hand, she was about to investigate further when Belinda entered the house, smiling excitedly and seemingly oblivious to the fact that her hair and clothes were soaked with rainwater. ‘Cassy, darling, you’ll never guess who’s just arrived.’
Cassy held the lamp a little higher but she almost dropped it as she recognised the young man who had followed her mother into the house. Standing there, resplendent in his officer’s uniform, his shako tucked beneath his arm, he looked her up and down with a slow smile radiating from his lips to his eyes. ‘Cassy, by all that’s wonderful. I hardly recognised you.’
‘Ollie.’ Shock, surprise and delight rendered her almost speechless.
‘Don’t keep him standing in the cold hallway, Cassy,’ Belinda said, taking the lamp from her as she disappeared into the parlour. ‘Come in and get warm, Ollie.’
With a deft flick of his wrist Oliver tossed his shako onto a peg, and before she had time to collect her thoughts he enveloped Cassy in a hug that took her breath away. ‘By God, Cassy. You’ve turned into quite a young lady. What happened to that little girl I left behind?’
‘I’m nearly sixteen,’ she protested, laughing. ‘You’ve been away a long time. I hardly recognise you if it comes to that. You look so dashing.’ It was true, she thought, as he held her at arm’s length, staring at her as if he could not quite believe that she had grown up. His face was thinner and the skin drawn tightly over high cheekbones. Even though he was smiling, there was a veiled look in his eyes as though he had seen many dreadful things and had locked them away at the back of his mind. She realised then that the boy she had known was gone forever and in his place was a man who was almost a stranger. Perhaps he was thinking the same about her. The moment was shattered by the sound of booted feet on the steps and another uniformed figure entered the house staggering beneath the weight of a small cabin trunk and several valises. He dumped them on the floor and leaned against the door to shut out the wind and rain.
Forgetting Oliver, Cassy pushed past him and ran towards the soldier with her arms outstretched. She would have known him anywhere. He was as much a part of her as the heart that quickened its beat inside her breast. ‘Bailey. Oh, Bailey. You’ve come home.’
He caught her to him, swinging her off her feet in a hug. ‘Cass, is it really you?’ He set her down, but he kept his arms around her, staring into her face as if committing every detail to memory. ‘You’ve grown up, my little Cass.’
Halfway between laughter and tears, she traced his jawline with the tip of her finger. His face was also tanned and much leaner than when she had last seen him. His body felt taut and muscular and there were white lines at the corners of his eyes where he had squinted against the hot Indian sun, which made him appear to be smiling even when his face was in repose. She touched his eyelids, and running her finger down his cheek she felt a scar. ‘Oh, Bailey. What happened? You’ve been injured.’
‘He fought a duel over a beautiful Indian maiden,’ Ollie said, laughing. ‘See to the luggage, Corporal Moon.’ He strolled into the parlour, leaving them alone in the dark hallway.
‘Did you really fight a duel?’ Cassy asked, although safe in the circle of his arms she knew the answer even before he shook his head.
‘It’s his idea of a joke, Cass. It was nothing, just a scratch from a piece of shrapnel.’
She sighed, inhaling the scent of him. Beneath the mixed odours of saddle soap, leather and the damp wool of his uniform, he still smelled like Bailey, her friend and protector for as long as she could remember. ‘You might have been killed,’ she murmured. ‘If you died, I’d die too, Bailey.’
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘Still the same passionate girl you always were. I’m glad you haven’t changed, Cass. You’re the reason I’ve worked hard to better myself. I’m Captain Davenport’s batman now. Wherever he goes, I go too.’
‘You’re here and that’s all that matters,’ Cassy said, taking him by the hand and dragging him into the parlour where she found Oliver standing with his back to the fire and Belinda was seated.
‘This is wonderful, Ollie,’ Belinda said, smiling up at him. ‘I can’t believe that you’re really here.’
‘I received your letter, Belle,’ Oliver said gently. ‘I was due a spell of leave anyway, but the Colonel allowed me to come home earlier on compassionate grounds. It was a bad business about the old man.’
‘It’s almost harder for you, my dear,’ she said, averting her gaze.
‘But to leave you with nothing. That’s simply not on. No wonder he took the coward’s way out.’
Belinda raised her head to look him in the eye. ‘I won’t have you speak of your father in that way, Oliver. He found himself in a position that he couldn’t control. It’s not for us to judge him.’
Cassy could see that Oliver was angry and that Ma was upset. She drew Bailey into the circle of lamplight. ‘Look who’s here, Ma. It’s Bailey, my dear brother.’
Bailey released her hand abruptly, and stood stiffly to attention, staring straight ahead.
‘At ease,’ Oliver said casually. ‘We’re not on the parade ground now, Corporal.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Bailey relaxed a little, but still looked as though he wished he was somewhere else.
‘What’s the matter with you both?’ Cassy demanded. ‘Why are you treating him like a servant, Ollie?’
‘They’re soldiers, my dear,’ Belinda said gently. ‘Discipline is strict and all-important in the army.’
‘I don’t care about the army,’ Cassy cried, swallowing convulsively as a lump in her throat threatened to choke her. ‘They’re at home now. We’re all together. Can’t they forget rules and regulations for a while?’
‘It’s up to you as his superior officer, Ollie,’ Belinda said firmly. ‘But I think Cassy’s right.’
‘Sit down, man,’ Oliver said, grinning. ‘There’s no need to stand on ceremony within these walls.’ He glanced around the small room. ‘This is a bit of a comedown, if you don’t mind me saying so, Belle. Stepney of all places too. What would the pater say if he could see us now?’
‘It’s all we can afford,’ Belinda countered, a frown creasing her smooth brow. ‘We lost everything, Ollie.’
Cassy glanced at the clock. ‘Oh my goodness, I’ll be late. I must go or the landlord will dock my pay.’
‘What’s this?’ Bailey demanded, seeming to forget that he was in the company of a superior officer and speaking out. ‘Where are you going?’
‘She has to work,’ Belinda said before Cassy had a chance to reply. ‘We all have to work in order to pay the rent. Flora has a small income but the old days are gone and we have to manage the best we can.’
Oliver moved away from the fire and sprawled in the chair which was Flora’s favoured seat. ‘Where is Aunt Flora? You said she’d left the Italian gigolo.’
‘It’s a long story,’ Belinda replied wearily. ‘She’ll tell you the details herself, but she’s out at present giving reading lessons to a farmer.’
‘Aunt Flora and a farmer. That conjures up a pretty picture,’ Oliver said, chuckling. ‘Come now, Belle. You can’t leave it there.’
She shook her head. ‘There’s so much you don’t know, but I can’t go into it all now.’
Cassy reached for her shawl which she had laid in readiness on a chair by the door. ‘I have to go.’
‘Where are you going?’ Bailey rose to his feet. ‘What’s this all about, Cass?’
‘I work in a pub kitchen. I wash dishes.’
Bailey turned his head to cast an accusing look at Belinda. ‘Do you mean to tell me that you allow your ward to go out alone at night to work in a common public house?’ His voice shook with suppressed anger.
Cassy caught him by the sleeve. ‘It’s all right. I’m quite capable of looking after myself, and we need the money. Besides which, there’s something you don’t know.’ She glanced nervously at her mother. ‘Will you tell them, or shall I?’
Belinda rose slowly to her feet. She moved to Cassy’s side, slipping her arm protectively around her daughter’s shoulders. ‘I’m her mother,’ she said simply. ‘Cassy is my daughter.’
Bailey let out a long whistle between his teeth and Oliver shook his head in disbelief. ‘Come now, Belle. You’re joking, of course.’
‘I was never more serious in my life.’ Belinda managed a smile, but to Cassy’s concern she saw the colour drain from her mother’s face.
‘Don’t upset yourself, Ma. They don’t need to know the whole story. It’s your business and has nothing to do with anyone else.’
‘But I thought the Indian maidservant was your mother,’ Bailey said, staring at Cassy as if seeing her for the first time. ‘How long have you known this, Cass? And why didn’t you tell me sooner?’
‘I only found out a short time ago. I wanted to tell you in person.’
‘It’s complicated,’ Belinda said, laying her hand on his arm. ‘But it makes no difference, Bailey. Cassy is still the same girl you cared for and protected for all those dreadful years when I was unable to help her. I’ll always be grateful to you for that.’
‘It’s a bit of a shock, but I always knew she was special,’ Bailey said, winking at Cassy. ‘I’m glad you found your ma at last, Cass.’
‘I need a drink, Corporal Moon,’ Oliver said, rising to his feet. ‘This is too much information to take in at once. What say we escort my new stepsister to her place of employment?’
‘Flora will be home soon,’ Belinda murmured. ‘She’ll want to see you, Ollie.’
His stern expression melted into his old, charming smile. ‘We won’t be long, presuming of course that you have room to put us up for a week or two. Otherwise, Moon and I will have to find another billet.’
‘Of course you must stay here,’ Belinda said, rallying. ‘I’ll tell Mrs Wilkins to make up the bed in the spare room, although I don’t suppose you two want to share.’
‘No, that would be going a step too far,’ Ollie said, chuckling. ‘Moon can take the sofa. He’s slept in far less comfortable circumstances, haven’t you, old chap?’
Bailey acknowledged this truth with a nod. ‘The sofa would be luxury compared to sleeping rough, ma’am. As to the Captain’s room, I’ll see to that if your housekeeper would be kind enough to give me the bedding.’
This made Cassy giggle. ‘It’s like old times, Bailey. Only instead of looking after babies, you’re taking care of a grown man.’ She shot a mischievous glance at Oliver. ‘Although I’m not so sure if Ollie is as grown up as he makes out.’ She uttered a screech as Oliver swept her off her feet and slung her over his shoulder, almost knocking the oil lamp over in the process.
‘You’re not so much of a lady that I can’t give you a good spanking, young Cassy. And being your big brother gives me the right to chastise you at my pleasure.’
Bailey took a step towards his senior officer. ‘Put her down, sir. She’s not a toy. Treat her right or you’ll have me to deal with.’
‘Boys, please remember that this is my parlour and not the barrack room,’ Belinda said sternly. ‘We may have come down in the world but I won’t stand for brawling and bad manners. Cassy is a young lady and you will both treat her as such.’
Bailey had the grace to look shame-faced but Oliver set Cassy back on her feet with a casual shrug of his shoulders. ‘It’s all in fun, Belle.’
‘I know your larks of old, Oliver,’ Belinda said, frowning. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go downstairs and ask Mrs Wilkins to prepare supper for two extra.’
‘Don’t go to any trouble on our account, Belle. We’ll dine at the pub. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.’
‘I’m sorry too,’ Bailey added apologetically. ‘We’ve been away from home for far too long.’ He hooked his arm around Cassy’s shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, nipper. I’ll have to get used to you being all grown up and a lady too.’
‘I’m still the same girl I ever was,’ Cassy assured him.
He eyed her speculatively. ‘No, that’s not true, and I was a fool not to see it coming. You were always different; a cut above the rest. Now I know why.’
Oliver clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Come along, Moon. Let’s go and reconnoitre this place where Cassy works. I don’t want my sister working in a cheap grog-shop. We need to have a decko at this place.’
It was still raining. A fine mist hung in damp cloud above the Regent’s Canal and the lights from the King’s Arms twinkled in fractured reflections on the dark water. The stench from the gasworks and the manufactories that had grown up along the banks of Limehouse Cut lay heavily in the air, pressed down by a thick blanket of cloud.
‘This ain’t a nice place,’ Bailey said, as they made their way along the footpath. ‘You shouldn’t be walking this way alone at night, Cass.’
‘I’ve been doing it for weeks,’ she protested. ‘It’s not that bad.’
‘I’d swear that Belle doesn’t know the half of it,’ Oliver said grimly. ‘I’ve seen better place in the slums of Bombay.’
Even as he uttered the words, the doors of the pub were flung open and two drunks were ejected forcibly onto the pavement. Bailey clutched Cassy’s arm a little tighter. ‘Let’s go. I’ve seen enough.’
‘But I’ll lose my job,’ Cassy protested as Oliver tucked her free hand into the crook of his arm.