Once his confession was out, Georgie seemed to expand. He took a deep breath and thrust out his chest and said, “We’ll see when the child is born. I’d wager a hundred guineas its hair is ginger.”
It was becoming harder to keep up the façade. Not only had Bella just encountered one of her sworn enemies from the Union, but she had walked into a room full of virtual strangers on the arm of the man they blamed for ruining one of their own. And with Annie Tullard whispering and muttering to her cronies, there was bound to be more trouble on the way. It was a shame she’d run into it so soon, but she’d just have to face it, as she’d faced everything else.
Georgie eased Bella to the side for a rest. His mouth was down, and a high colour stained his cheeks, but he kept hold of her hand, seemingly glad she hadn’t abandoned him in disgust after his confession. She was wondering what she should say next when his face suddenly burst into a delighted grin. She followed the direction of his gaze towards the main doors, where a new party of revellers had just entered.
They were a splendid group. The older gentleman she knew to be Mr Henstridge, so the well-dressed woman beside him had to be his wife. Bella smiled as she recognised Harriet.
And then she found herself staring at Jack.
It was Jack as she had never seen him before. He was no more finely dressed than Georgie, but the dark suit and high white collar suited his height and build so well. But what was he doing here? Surely, he’d said he wasn’t coming. But no, he’d just said he usually managed to avoid the summer dance.
“I think I’d like you to get me a drink, Georgie.” She felt deflated and miserable.
“Oh, certainly, but we must greet the Henstridges first.”
“No—now, please.”
“What? Feeling shy, Miss Hart? But you’ve met Mr Henstridge, and you already know Harriet. Mrs Henstridge is a fine woman… but perhaps you’re shy of Jack. He has overwhelmed you with his handsome face and elegant attire. Ah me! Whenever Jack Henstridge is in the room, poor old Georgie Merriwether is cast into the shade.”
But Georgie did fetch Bella a drink, and she shot it down quickly before anyone could notice. But then she found herself being propelled towards the smart-looking new arrivals. She didn’t want to meet Jack again like this, not when her heart felt so strained by their last conversation. But there again, it would be one in the eye for the Tullards and Froggatts of this world if she were to be seen hobnobbing with the gentry.
That was the deciding factor. She put on her politest smile and went with Georgie.
It took only a few moments for Mr Henstridge to welcome her, with some pleasing compliments about her successes in the school. She was introduced to the clothier’s wife and then his daughter, and they laughed and said they’d already met, and Georgie made some joke about bringing Bella to make Harriet jealous. Then Bella was introduced to Jack as if he was a total stranger and—behaving like one—he bent his head low over her hand, which he held lightly. The only sign that he was disturbed was the trembling of his fingers.
Georgie almost immediately abandoned her to Jack and took his usual place at Harriet’s side. “I must say, you are looking more stunning than ever tonight, Harriet. And never was a sight more welcome. Your Georgie has been having a horrible time amongst all these nasty common people.” He pushed out his lower lip and gazed pathetically at Harriet. Her face took on an expression of long-suffering patience.
“Georgie, you know you don’t care one whit about this lot. And don’t think by winning my sympathy you can win my heart. I shall want to see you truly suffer before I consider giving you any succour whatsoever.”
Bella, ignoring Jack, watched Georgie’s hand steal out and caress Harriet’s fingers. She bore his attentions a moment before pulling her hand briskly away. “Stop messing about, George Merriwether. Are you going to ask me to dance or not?”
Bella’s enjoyment of the couple’s sparring was ruined by Jack turning briskly towards her and saying, “Rather than stand about like a couple of idiots, do you think we should have a dance? After all, we know we can do it successfully, after all the practice we’ve had.”
As an invitation, it lacked finesse and was not romantic, but rather than risk exposing herself any further to the condemnatory glares of the townswomen, she agreed, and stepped onto the floor with him.
And immediately regretted it when his first words to her were, “What are you doing here with my best friend? I can’t believe you told me you were not interested in wealth when all the time you were pursuing Georgie behind my back.”
Chapter 31
Jack couldn’t understand how Bella came to be at this dance with Georgie of all people. He’d have to have a word with him later if Harriet didn’t get in first. Bella seemed none too pleased to have been caught out thus. Why—she would barely even look at him, and she felt like a wooden doll in his arms. Was something going on between her and Georgie?
She answered his angry inquisition with spirit. “I’m not after anyone! He brought me, and you didn’t. So what business is it of yours? It’s me as should be angry with you, for fooling with me, not telling me who you were and making me feel stupid.”
“Look, nobody knows about that. And I didn’t mean to make you look a fool. I know I should have said something earlier. You just need to understand that appearances can be deceptive.”
“Well of all the pompous… Ah! I don’t even have the words for what you are. Now you’re saying it’s my fault for not spotting your little game, not yours for deceiving me.”
She had a point. He took a breath. “Bella, I didn’t mean it to come out like that. It came out all wrong. Look, I’m just concerned about you being with Georgie—hey, where are you going?”
She dragged at her arm where he was gripping it. “Let me go, or I’ll make a scene, and then you’ll be left with egg all over your face, Mister Clothier’s Son. I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
There wasn’t much he could do with people looking, and there were people looking, especially some of the townswomen, gathered in a gossiping group at the back. He shook his shoulders back and made his way across to where Georgie stood and moved up close, his heart thumping.
“Hullo, old chap. You look a little green about the gills,” Georgie observed. “Not dissatisfied with the delightful Miss Hart are you? I thought you looked rather well together. Oh, I say!”
Jack had pulled him roughly to one side, out of Harriet’s hearing. “What was she doing with you?”
“Why—nobody seemed to have invited the poor girl, and as I was certain she could do with a bit of a social whirl, I decided to bring her myself. There’s something about her—I’m sure you noticed it. She’s looking even better tonight than I could have hoped for—that green dress really suits her.” He glanced around the room. “I say, where’s she disappeared to?”
Jack stared over the heads of the crowd. “I don’t see her.”
“I say—you didn’t upset her, did you? I know she was already a little on edge tonight—partly my fault, I admit. She may have decided to go home.”
“On her own? In the dark? How did you get her here?”
“I left my horse at Riley’s, and we walked down. I’m sure she understands that I’ll be taking her home again.”
“The devil you will. Wait here,” Jack ordered. “I’ll deal with you later.” With a look that made Georgie squirm, he rushed away from him, and out through the main doors.
There were a few loungers outside the hall, filling their pipes and talking in low drawling voices. They said they’d seen some people just leave. When asked if there was a woman, they said yes, they were all women—they didn’t all go out together but had all gone in the same direction. Jack thanked them and strode off down the hill in the direction of Mrs Day’s. He didn’t know what he planned to say to Bella—whether he wanted to placate her or still be angry at her. His mind was soon made up for him.
Round a turn in the street he stopped, and his jaw dropped. B
eneath the thin light of a gas lamp, there was a group of shadows, heaving bizarrely to and fro’. It looked like some sort of struggle going on, with groans and little screeches coming from the moving mass, but all subdued as if no one was supposed to hear. He could just make out the hem of a green dress.
Bella!
He broke into a run.
Chapter 32
Bella had just delivered a sharp kick that sent one of her attackers hopping backwards, but someone else moved in with a blow from a clog she felt sure must have broken her shin. She went down, gritting her teeth against the pain, and then it was like the workhouse all over again, with women piling into her and pressing her down while blows were delivered to her ribs, her stomach, and even her head. She was screaming now, knowing she couldn’t manage against three of them, but she had a handful of someone’s hair, and she was tugging on it mercilessly, and thrashing around in the dirt as much as she could to dislodge them.
The blood was ringing in her ears when she heard someone shout, and there was a man wading in amongst them and hauling the women off her, so she was able to struggle to her knees, panting. Then she saw her rescuer was Jack. He had two of the women by the collar, and from his shadowed face, it looked as if he wanted to knock their heads together. The third took to her heels, but not before Bella had seen who she was… Annie Tullard.
“Mrs Froggatt,” Jack growled. “And I do declare, your sister-in-law, the other Mrs Froggatt. Who was that that just ran off?”
Both women clamped their lips tight and glared at him, and glared at Bella, but she saw they knew who he was and that they were beaten.
“I should call a constable,” he said. “But I think I can do better than that. From this moment, your employment with Henstridge and Son will cease. Don’t bother to come to work on Monday. And if you’re thinking of looking for a place elsewhere, you’d better make sure you’ve made it up to Miss Hart first—because I warn you, I know all the employers in this town and I’ll be quite happy to tell them what a pair of cowardly scrappers you are.”
He looked at Bella, where she still knelt on the ground. She wiped away a thin dribble of blood coming from her mouth, her breath coming in great heaving gulps. Giving the two women a hearty shake, he released them and pushed them away, none too gently. Then he was down in the road beside Bella, covering his black evening suit in dust.
“Can you get up?”
“If you help me,” she said thickly, running her tongue around inside her mouth to make sure she hadn’t lost any teeth. He helped her up, took her elbow and started steering her towards Mrs Day’s.
“Have you broken anything?”
“I don’t know.”
She was walking awkwardly, hobbling. “Oh no!” she said, but it was too late—he had hefted her up and was carrying her across his chest, striding jerkily down the hill as fast as he could go. She could feel the fury and the tension still in him, and was almost afraid. She didn’t know he could be like this.
He shifted her awkwardly around so she could open the door, and then they stood in the dimly-lit parlour with Mrs Day staring up at them from her Bath chair, her lop-sided jaw hanging open.
Jack nodded towards Mrs Day’s bed—she always slept downstairs now since the stroke, as it was closer to the kitchen and the privy. “Shall I put her down here?”
Mrs Day was reaching for her stick and trying to get to her feet. “No sir, that’s my bed. Hers is upstairs—can you get her up there?”
“Of course.”
Jack spun Bella around and headed for the stairs, where he stooped to avoid the low ceiling. She wasn’t used to being carried, yet she felt totally safe.
“On the left,” she managed, through a fit of coughing. Lord, what had those she-cats done to her? Jack eased her through the doorway and set her carefully down on her bed, then lit a candle.
Bella could hear Mrs Day whimpering around downstairs, not sure what to do. Jack yelled down at her, “Can you get someone to run for the doctor? She’s been beaten up pretty badly.”
“I’ll try little Ben Harris next door. He’s fast. But I don’t doubt the doctor’s at the dance.”
“Then Ben Harris must look for him there. And tell him if he comes back empty-handed, I’ll give him a hiding, but if he comes back with a physician, he’ll get a shilling. Hurry, woman, hurry.”
Bella lay on the bed, still panting. Jack looked to be breathless too, and his colour was high. He flung off his jacket, then sat on the side of the bed next to her.
“Don’t worry, the doctor will be here in a moment—he’ll get you right as rain. Where does it hurt?”
“Almost everywhere.” Her swollen lip slid painfully over her teeth when she tried to speak. She widened her mouth and grimaced, then said, “But I got ‘em back pretty good, didn’t I? There’s one of them will have a stiff leg tomorrow, another’ll have a shiner, and Annie Tullard’s head is going to sting for days!”
Jack’s chest heaved up in a great sigh. He was looking at her strangely, like he didn’t know if he should laugh or weep. There was fear in his eyes too. Fear for her?
There was the sound of a door closing downstairs. After a moment, Mrs Day’s voice came up to them. “I’ve a bit of warm water left in the kettle, but I can’t carry it all the way up there, not and use me stick as well. But we’ve sent for the doctor, sir.”
Jack leapt off the bed, and Bella heard him bound down the stairs. After some rumbling conversation which she couldn’t make out, he returned with an oil lamp, a kettle and an empty bowl. Then he set the light up, and poured out some water—and then he was dabbing gently at her face with his handkerchief.
“I don’t know,” he said softly, as Bella winced at his ministrations. “I bother to save you from the beam engine, and for what? Only so you can go and get yourself damaged by a group of vicious females. Are you going to tell me what it was all about?”
“It goes back a long way, back to the Union. I don’t know why it started—they just thought I was different I suppose, and hated me because I would never give in to them. Me turning up with the man that got Marie Froggatt into trouble must have been like… what do people say? Like a red rag to a bull.”
“You know the rumours about Georgie then? Yet, you still went to the dance with him?” Jack’s chin was set.
“I only found out tonight. Were you in a taking about him being with me?”
“I don’t think this is the time to talk about it. Let’s see your hands.”
The light from the lamp showed up grazes on the knuckles, but that was all. Jack dabbed at them, then put the cloth down and took one of her hands gently into his and stared down at it for a long time. Her breathing quieted as she looked at him, wondering what he was thinking. He ran his thumb gently over one of her sore fingers, then examined some swelling on the knuckle.
“You won’t be playing the piano for a while,” he commented.
“I never could. But I think I’d like to learn.”
He looked a bit sick as he stared at her. She must look an awful fright, with the blood and the bruising she could feel on her face. But she was too tired and too much in pain to care.
“Did I do the right thing?” he asked suddenly. “Should I have sent for the constable and had those women thrown into the cells for affray? Do you think I was too soft on them? They’ve made a right mess of you, and might have done worse if I hadn’t come when I did.”
“I don’t think you’re soft. You’ve just sacked them. That seems like a good punishment to me. Anyway, who’d want the courts involved? Folk in the workhouse had terrible tales of the injustice of the courts.” She felt a sharp jab of pain in her ribs and let out a squeak.
“Keep still. I’d better not let you talk any more—I can see it pains you. We’ll speak further when you’re better. When’s that damned doctor coming?”
Chapter 33
Unable to keep still from worry, Jack went downstairs and found Mrs Day walking in circles around her tiny front room
. The end of her stick was rubbing a dirty mark into the floor, and she was muttering under her breath about Miss Hart bringing trouble into the house. From what he overheard, she included him as part of that trouble.
“I have a right to know what’s going on in my own house—I have a right to know exactly what the schoolmistress done to get involved in such a scrap. And what’s that Jack Henstridge doing with her, I ask you?”
He coughed, to alert her to his presence, but at the same moment, there was a knock on the door, heralding the arrival of the doctor. Jack pushed past her and let the man in, wrinkling his nose at the smell of ale and tobacco smoke, and told him where to find Bella.
Mrs Day caught at Jack’s sleeve as he made to follow. “I don’t know that she can afford that fellow’s fee.”
He frowned. “I’ll pay, Mrs Day. Don’t you worry about that.” Casting his eye critically over the tiny but well-kept room, he wasn’t sure he wanted Bella to be ill in this place—it lacked all the comforts of home. But then, Bella had been used to far worse.
Mrs Day flopped back into her chair. “Oh, I’m too ill for all this worry. That girl can be a right nuisance at times.”
His nerves stretched thin, Jack snapped back, “It wasn’t her fault Mrs Day—there were three against one. Now, I expect you to make sure she’s taken care of, and not tired out with questions.”
The doctor came down after a while and told them Bella might have a cracked or broken rib or two, but was otherwise just bruised and cut. She needed rest and quiet for a few days, and must not be allowed to get up until he had seen her again. Then he went back up the hill with Jack’s coins jingling in his pocket, happy to resume his pleasant evening at the dance.
Jack went back upstairs to find Bella was now in her nightgown and tucked underneath the blankets.
She blinked at him. “You’ve got blood on your shirt.”
Workhouse Waif Page 12
