by Emily Organ
“Yes, that is the full amount of money I have in my savings account.”
“And if you were to pay Miss Jenkins the three hundred pounds that would encompass all of your savings?”
“That is correct, yes.”
The time came for Charlotte’s solicitor, Mr Duncombe, to rise to his feet.
“Who is Miss Penelope Green, Mr Blakely?” he asked.
I held my breath.
“She is a reporter for the Morning Express newspaper,” replied James.
Charlotte kept her steely eyes fixed on him.
“Do you hold her in your affections?”
There was a long pause. James glanced around the silent courtroom, then swallowed nervously.
“Yes, I do.”
There were gasps and mutterings around me.
“How long have you been harbouring these feelings?”
“It’s not easy to be precise. I suppose I have been fond of Miss Green since I met her.”
“Which was when?”
“In the October of last year.”
“So you have held her in your affections all that time?”
Perhaps I should have shielded my face more effectively with my bonnet, for it was at this precise moment that James spotted me. He stared, his lips moving slightly, as if they were about to form words. I smiled, but my presence had obviously distracted him from the proceedings.
“Mr Blakely?” continued Mr Duncombe. “Could you answer the question, please? Have you possessed an affection for Miss Green since the October of last year?”
James tore his gaze away from me. “It has been a very gradual realisation. I would like to stress that it was always my intention to carry out the promise I had made to Miss Jenkins, which is why the decision was made at the very last moment. I sincerely apologise for the upset and inconvenience it has caused. I am only too aware of how difficult this time has been for Miss Jenkins and her family. I have already apologised profusely; however, I would like to assure Miss Jenkins and her family that the breach of promise was preferable to continuing with the marriage proceedings.”
“Your reason for the breach of promise is not merely your changed feelings toward Miss Jenkins, but also the fact that you have romantic feelings for Miss Green.”
James dwelt on this before giving a slight nod. “Yes.”
“It would have helped the Jenkins family and the court here today had you been honest from the start about the real reason behind your cancelling the wedding. In reality it is because you wish to marry Miss Green instead, is it not?”
“Miss Green and I have never discussed marriage. In fact, we have chosen not to pursue an official courtship in light of recent events. I wished to resolve my differences with Miss Jenkins and her family before embarking upon another courtship. I acknowledge that I have done wrong and wish to make recompense to Miss Jenkins.”
“It is all well and good demonstrating your contriteness to the court now, Mr Blakely, but the fact of the matter is that you have been deceitful for many months. You stated to Miss Jenkins, and subsequently to this court, that your reason for cancelling the wedding was that your feelings had changed. At no point did you acknowledge that your affection for Miss Green was the true cause of this change in feelings. There was further deceit in the months leading up to the wedding, when you at no time discussed your affection for Miss Green with Miss Jenkins or her family. Had you done so, they would have had a much better understanding of your state of mind. You continued with the pretence that you were to marry Miss Jenkins right up until the day you were due to marry her. If that is not deceitful, may I ask you what is?”
“I had no intention to deceive anyone.”
“No, I’m quite sure that you didn’t. However, the facts speak for themselves, and this is why the jury must now consider a higher sum in damages than the one you previously offered to the Jenkins family.”
James opened his mouth as if to argue with Charlotte’s solicitor but seemed to think better of it. This was his punishment, and the best thing he could do at that moment was to keep his demeanour calm and respectful.
I breathed a sigh of relief when Charlotte’s solicitor sat back down. James also took a seat as the judge addressed the court.
“Mr Blakely, you are a respectable man with a responsible profession. I am certain that there is no stain on your character other than what we have heard this morning. It is more honourable to break off an engagement than to marry with a lie in one’s heart. However, it would have been wiser for you to acknowledge the true reason for the breach of promise and your changed feelings for the plaintiff: namely, your affection for another lady.”
The judge asked the jury to retire in order to consider the level of damages payable. James glanced over at me again, and this time managed a slight smile.
There was light chatter in the courtroom while we waited. James spoke with his solicitor to pass the time and Charlotte conferred with her father. I wasn’t sure how James would be able to afford much more than the three hundred pounds he had already offered.
Ten minutes later the jury returned to the courtroom.
“Have you reached an agreement with regard to the sum owed in damages?” the judge asked the foreman.
“Yes, Your Honour.”
“Please tell the court the total sum payable to the plaintiff.”
“Six hundred pounds, Your honour.”
I sighed. It was a lot of money, but hopefully it would mean that James would finally be free of all obligation to Charlotte and her family. He gave me another subtle smile, and it was then that I felt someone else’s eyes upon me.
I glanced at Charlotte and saw that she had noticed me. Her expression was frozen into a haughty stare, and her blue eyes were cold and unblinking. I felt a shiver run through me.
Never before had I seen anyone look at me with such a deep intensity of hatred.
Chapter 31
I left the town hall as quickly as possible. It didn’t feel appropriate to be seen with James at that moment.
“Miss Green?”
I felt a sickening turn in my stomach knowing that someone had noticed me there.
A man with a square face and brown whiskers caught up with me.
“Mr Bolton,” I said, forcing a smile.
“It’s not often that a news reporter becomes the news,” he said with a wry smile.
“I’m not news,” I retorted as I continued my brisk walk. “This has all just been an unfortunate sequence of events. It really isn’t of any consequence to anyone else.”
“No, I suppose not. Although I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t report on the case. There is always a great deal to write about when the assizes are being held. I never imagined you would be caught up in one of them!”
“Neither did I.”
“The Scotland Yard inspector you’ve been, er, associated with… He’s working on the Gallo case, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is.”
“And what does he make of it?”
“He feels there are quite a few possible suspects.”
“There are, aren’t there? And to think that it was likely to have been one of us who stayed at the hotel that evening. That’s quite a thought, isn’t it?”
“Whom do you think it might have been?” I asked, stopping so that I could better gauge his reaction.
“Gosh.” He blinked a few times and shook his head. “I simply don’t know. That Mr White seemed an odd character to me. And Mr Goldman, too. But it could just as easily have been a member of the hotel staff, couldn’t it? They were best placed to plan the attack, find the spare key and hide the murder weapon… I hear the weapon was found in your bedchamber. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“So you could be a suspect yourself, Miss Green!”
“Something else to put me in the news, don’t you think?”
“I can’t imagine you bearing Gallo any sort of grudge.”
“You didn’t like him mu
ch, did you?”
Mr Bolton avoided my gaze. “I don’t like men of his type, as a rule.”
“Which type is that?”
“The type that has made a lot of money rather quickly. It makes me wonder what they’ve been up to.”
“He ran a successful hotel business.”
“He did, but I have a feeling he was involved in more than just that.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know, but I should have liked to find out.”
“Your manner was quite confrontational toward him that night.”
“Do you think so? I don’t like to mince my words, as a general rule. There are so many more questions I wish I had asked him.”
“Such as what else he was involved in?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t have received a straight answer, would I? Anyway, I’m supposed to be heading toward West Croydon station, so I shall leave you here. Nice to see you again, Miss Green.” He doffed his hat and went on his way.
I watched him for a moment, feeling that he had cut our conversation short rather suddenly.
I strode on toward East Croydon train station, looking forward to the anonymity I would soon enjoy back in London town. As I walked, a carriage drew up alongside me. I glanced up at the occupants and immediately wished I hadn’t. Charlotte Jenkins’ face glared out at me from the window.
To continue walking would have seemed cowardly. I decided my only choice was to stop and listen to what she had to say. The carriage door flew open and Charlotte stepped out, closely followed by her parents.
“So this is her, is it?” demanded Mr Jenkins, surveying me with great distaste. “This is the harlot?” His top hat made him seem even taller and more intimidating.
“I would like to apologise," I began. “I never intended for it to come to this.”
“You made eyes at a man who was engaged to be married!” boomed Mr Jenkins as he took a step closer to me.
“The matter has been settled in court,” I said, desperately desiring to step back but resolving to stand my ground.
“The matter is far from settled!” shouted Charlotte. “You put a stop to my wedding. You are little more than a manipulative Jezebel!”
I tried to remain as calm as possible, but I could feel my legs trembling. “I have apologised,” I said, “and the court has found in your favour. I don’t think there is anything more to say on the matter.”
I turned to continue on my way, but as I did so a hand grabbed at my arm. I stopped and looked back to see Charlotte’s twisted face just inches away from mine.
“You have no idea of the harm you’ve caused,” she spat. “You think you can just walk off with my husband and I’ll leave you be! Well, you’re wrong. I know where you live, and I know where you work.”
“That’s because I helped you once, Charlotte. I helped you find James when he was missing, if you recall.”
“You didn’t want to help me; you only wanted to find James. I was a fool to ever ask you for assistance. You betrayed my trust and ruined every chance I had of finding happiness!”
I tried to pull my arm free, but she strengthened her grip. I was surprised by her strength.
“You won’t get away with this,” she continued. “I intend to make your life every bit as miserable as you have made mine.”
“Let go of me, please,” I said, staring into her cold eyes.
She ignored my request. “You’ll regret this,” she continued. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“And it will be nothing more than you deserve,” her father added with a grim smile.
I gripped the handle of my bag and resisted the urge to hit Charlotte with it. I had no wish to get into a physical fight.
“I have listened to all you have to say,” I said. “Now let go of me.”
The grip on my arm loosened, but it was only after Charlotte had struck my face that I realised what she had done. For a brief moment everything turned black, then my ears rang and a searing pain ran down my cheek. I clenched my teeth and glared at her crumpled, bitter face.
“Oi!” came a shout.
It was James.
“Leave her alone!” he demanded as he ran toward us.
James had almost reached me when Mr Jenkins raised his arm and shoved him away with his elbow.
“This harlot’s not even worth it!” he growled. “She’ll lose interest in you soon enough and start looking for another marriage to destroy.”
“Don’t you dare speak about Miss Green in that manner!” retorted James.
“Why are you defending this whore?” growled Mr Jenkins.
James lunged at Mr Jenkins and a scuffle ensued.
“Stop it!” I cried. “Ignore him, James! Just leave him be!”
Mr Jenkins struck a blow that sent James tumbling to the ground. I ran to his side and helped him up.
“Let’s go,” I pleaded. “We need to get away from here.”
There was a horrible red mark below James’ left eye.
Charlotte’s face was wretched and awash with tears.
“It’s too late,” said James as a constable ran toward us, blowing his whistle. “We’re in trouble now.”
Chapter 32
“I never should have come to court,” I said.
James and I sat in an austere waiting room at the police station next to Croydon Town Hall. He pulled a grimace and said nothing. The large red bruise on his cheek was already turning a nasty shade of purple. Charlotte Jenkins and her father were being interviewed in a nearby room.
“You agree that I shouldn’t have come, don’t you?” I said.
“What’s done is done,” he said bitterly. “Ruing our decisions won’t make any difference now.”
“But you tried to talk me out of it and I didn’t listen. You were right.”
“I know the Jenkins family well,” he replied curtly. “I know what they’re like. But I suppose some good might come out of this, as Mr Jenkins will likely be charged with assaulting a police officer. Other than that, it’s a rather sorrowful state of affairs. I’m so sorry that Charlotte struck you.”
“It wasn’t as damaging as the punch you received,” I said. “And there’s no need to apologise for her behaviour. I suppose we all bear some responsibility for what has happened.”
The Holborn Gazette, Friday 21st November 1884
The Argument for Keeping Women Out of the Workplace
By Thomas Clifford
There is little doubt that members of the fairer sex are increasingly occupying positions in the workforce that were previously the sole domain of men. Ladies have been admitted to the medical profession, and it will surely only be a matter of time before other professions make the same concessions. Female clerks are not unheard of in London’s offices, although readers will be reassured to know that the sexes are properly segregated in these instances.
Fleet Street – as is seemingly customary – follows its own rules in this matter. We have become accustomed to seeing a number of lady writers working in our midst, and I count among them the esteemed Mrs Linton, who celebrates achievements in both journalism and novel writing. However, the capricious nature of journalism does not allow for the rightful segregation of men and women. Instead, female news reporters must do what their male counterparts do, and therein lies the problem.
At a breach of promise case yesterday involving Jenkins vs. Blakely, it was determined that a female news reporter for the Morning Express, Miss Penelope Green, had been responsible for the cancellation of the nuptials on the wedding day itself. In the course of his work for Scotland Yard, the defendant and prospective groom, Inspector James Blakely, had been forced to work alongside Miss Green on a series of investigations. It was perhaps inevitable that while the inspector was busy catching criminals, Miss Green was set on catching his heart.
The sad result is a broken-hearted former fiancée and a family thrown into dismay, their only consolation being court-ordered damages to the sum of six hundred pounds.
“Oh dear,” said Eliza, folding away the newspaper and placing it on my writing desk. “That’s not very charitable, is it?”
“Tom Clifford is clearly enjoying this golden opportunity he has been given to ridicule me,” I said, slumping down on my bed. “And for some reason his editor allows him to do it!”
“His editor is a disgrace. What did James make of this article?”
“He hasn’t seen it yet, and I don’t want to show it to him for the time being. He wasn’t at all pleased that I attended the court hearing yesterday.”
I told Eliza about the confrontation with Charlotte and her family.
“How dreadful, Penelope. While I have some sympathy for Charlotte, the woman needs to learn how to conduct herself with decorum! The court has awarded her six hundred pounds and her former fiancé has been made an example of. You’d think she would have been satisfied with that. I have to agree with James, though. It was rather foolish of you to attend.”
“I feel partly responsible for the breach of promise case.”
“But how was your being there in person likely to help or change anything? It sounds as though you only made matters worse.”
“I realise that now, thank you, Ellie.”
“So what now for you and James?”
“I shall have to wait for him to calm down.”
“It never takes very long, does it?”
“What doesn’t?”
“For these things to turn sour.”
‘No, it doesn’t take long at all.”
“And to think that you seemed so happy together when we visited the Royal Aquarium.”
“We were, and I feel sure that we will be again! All we need is for Charlotte and her awful family to leave us alone.”
‘This is what happens when you fall in love with a betrothed man. Did you think his fiancée would simply disappear without saying a word?”
