The Constant Heart

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The Constant Heart Page 9

by Dilly Court


  The orchestra had already begun to play a lively gallop, and before Harry had a chance to protest further the pirate had whisked Rosina onto the dance floor amongst the throng of dancers. She caught a glimpse of Harry escorting Sukey in the direction of their supper booth, but at this moment she cared about nothing except the thrill of dancing with the handsome stranger. The gallop was followed by a stately quadrille and then a waltz. There was no need to talk as she floated in his arms, looking into those mysterious eyes behind the black mask. Suddenly the sky was filled with a million coloured stars and an explosion of sound and light. The dancing stopped while everyone craned their necks to watch the firework display. He was holding her hand and they were standing so close together that she was certain she could hear his heart beating. The firework display ended with a huge starburst and a succession of loud explosions. The noise seemed to awaken Rosina from her dream. She snatched her hand free. 'It must be getting late. I really must go.'

  'It's not yet midnight. Can't you stay a bit longer?'

  'I must be home – I mean, I have to be somewhere at midnight. It's terribly important that we're there on time.'

  'Where exactly is home?'

  'Black Eagle Wharf. I doubt if you would know it.'

  'I'm a river pirate, am I not?'

  'Now you're laughing at me.'

  'No, I would never laugh at you, Rosina.' He drew her into his arms and kissed her so softly and tenderly that she opened her lips with a sigh of delight, giving herself up to the strange and wonderful sensations flowing through her veins. It was over too soon, leaving her desperate for more, but he drew away from her, laying his finger on her parted lips. 'I will see that you get home safely.'

  'Y-you will?'

  He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. 'Let's go and find your friends.'

  By the time they reached the supper booth, Sukey and Harry had drunk a whole bottle of champagne between them. Sukey was hiccuping and giggling and Harry had reached the belligerent stage of intoxication.

  'So, there you are,' he murmured thickly. 'I ought to give you a good hiding, mister.'

  Stepping in between them, Rosina laid her hand on his arm. 'Have you any idea of the time, Harry? No? Well, it's almost midnight. We're supposed to be back at your parents' house before midnight. Have you forgotten that Walter is going to meet us there?'

  'Walter!' Harry's lip curled scornfully. 'That scribbling Pharisee! Well, I can sort old Walter out.'

  'Oh, Lord. I shall be for it if we're late. My papa will kill first me and then you, Harry.' Sukey hiccuped again and covered her mouth with her hand.

  'We'll get a hackney carriage then. Don't worry, ladies. Harry Gostellow will look after you.' Harry took a step towards the door, staggered, and sat down heavily.

  'Oh, dear! He really is rather drunk,' Rosina said, turning to the pirate. 'You said you would help us, sir. I should be so obliged if you would.'

  He kissed her hand. 'It will be my pleasure.' He turned to Harry. 'If you can walk as far as the jetty, I have a boat tied up alongside.'

  'You have your own boat?' Rosina stared at him in surprise.

  He smiled. 'I'm a pirate, aren't I? I just take what I fancy.'

  'I say,' Sukey giggled. 'That sounds terribly exciting.'

  'He's a gigolo,' Harry said, glowering. 'Don't take any notice of him. If I wasn't a trifle bosky, I'd sort the fellow out.'

  'I'm sure you would,' the pirate said equably. 'But we need to get to the pier, old chap. Can you walk?'

  Staggering to his feet, Harry focused his eyes with difficulty. 'Of course I can walk. Been doing it since I was an infant, haven't I? Lead on Blackbeard, or whatever your name is.'

  They reached the pier just as midnight struck. By this time, Rosina was in a reckless mood, and she was past caring whether she would get into trouble once she reached home. All that mattered was here and now. She never wanted the journey back to Black Eagle Wharf to end. The pirate led them to a small steam launch moored at the end of the pier. It looked suspiciously familiar, rather like the wharfinger's private launch, but then all boats looked much the same to her anyway and what did she care if he'd stolen it? The mystery only added to the excitement of the night. He held her hand just a little longer than was necessary as he helped her aboard the craft. In the moonlight, his eyes were dark pools, shining like the ripples on the inky surface of the river. His hand was smooth and warm. She wanted to hold on to it forever, but he squeezed her fingers gently and moved away to start the engine. She went to sit beside Sukey, who had curled up like a child and fallen asleep with her head resting on her arms. Harry had slumped down on a seat with his chin on his chest and was snoring loudly.

  Rosina closed her eyes and allowed the cool breeze coming upriver to fan her hot cheeks. In her mind's eye she was still dancing with the pirate. She could still feel his arms around her, and the scent of him was in her nostrils. She knew that if she lived to be a hundred, she would never forget this magical evening. With Sukey and Harry asleep, it seemed as though she and her pirate were the only two people in the world as the steam launch chugged its way downstream. She did not care that they were going to be almost an hour late, or that Walter would be cross and would question her as to why she was not waiting outside the Gostellows' mansion in Wellclose Square. She did not want the night to end. But all too soon she recognised the wharves close to home and the steam launch glided into a small space between a wherry and a lighter at the tunnel pier. She shook Sukey awake and then Harry. He sat up with a grunt of surprise. 'Is it morning, Mother?'

  'Oh, Harry! Don't be such an idiot,' Rosina said, giving him another shake. 'You're drunk and now we've got to find Walter. I'll have to tell him everything. If he's been waiting outside your parents' house for over an hour, he's not going to believe that we've been inside at a supper party, and not had the courtesy to let him know that we were going to stay late.'

  'Damn it!' Harry struggled to his feet. 'Apologies for the language, Rosie. But I'm stiff as a board and my head aches like the devil.'

  'Serves you right then.' Rosina bundled up her skirt in preparation for ascending the steep ladder. 'Help Sukey, and I might forgive you.'

  Sukey moaned. 'I feel sick, Rosie.'

  'Take some deep breaths and think of something else,' Rosina said, trying not to sound impatient. 'We're going to be in trouble enough when we get home, without you spoiling your nice new dress.'

  'Oh, heavens! Don't say that, Rosie.' Sukey's eyes filled with tears. 'I wish I'd never agreed to this silly escapade.'

  Rosina watched the pirate leap onto the wooden deck of the pier and make fast. Sukey might be sorry that she had come, but for herself she would gladly take any punishment that Papa or Bebe might hand out. She held her hands out to him, shivering with the thrill of his touch as he helped her from the boat. He held her, clasping her hands to his chest and looking deeply into her eyes. 'This is where we say goodbye, Rosina, my beautiful rose.'

  'No, don't say that. It sounds so final. We've only just met.'

  'And will not meet again.'

  'Never?'

  He raised her hands to his lips and kissed each one in turn. 'Never. I don't exist. Not in your world.'

  'Then I want to be in yours. Tell me your name at least. Give me something to remember you by.'

  'Leave her alone.' Harry caught Rosina by the arm and pulled her away. 'Are you mad, Rosie? We're well over an hour late. We have to get back to Wellclose Square before your friend Walter rouses the whole house.'

  'Yes, Rosie. Do hurry,' Sukey cried. 'Look, there's a hansom cab dropping someone off at the mouth of the tunnel. We can cram into it if the cabby will take three instead of just two.'

  Rosina nodded dully. 'You're right, of course.'

  Harry took off his hat and waved it, shouting to attract the cabby's attention. Rosina turned to say a last farewell to the pirate, but he had gone. It seemed as though he had vanished into thin air. The sensation of loss was so intense that it wa
s all she could do not to break down and weep. She allowed Harry to help her into the cab for the short journey through the dark streets to Wellclose Square. She barely noticed the wild scenes that flashed past them as drunken men and women lurched out of public houses laughing and singing. Prostitutes solicited from doorways and there seemed to be fights on every street corner. The cabby urged the horse on with a flick of his whip. Wellclose Square seemed like a quiet oasis away from the seething nightlife of the Ratcliff Highway and its environs. Harry leapt out of the cab first and paid off the driver. He lifted Sukey down first and then Rosina. She looked around with a sinking heart. There was no sign of Walter waiting outside the house. A clock on the church in the centre of the square struck two. She imagined the scene at home. Walter must by now have roused the whole of Black Eagle Wharf. The men would be out looking for the missing girls and the police were probably involved as well.

  'So, he didn't wait then.' Harry mounted the steps to his front door. 'Stay here while I go inside. If he's raised the alarm then all hell will be let loose in the house.'

  The sound of running footsteps made Rosina glance over her shoulder. 'Harry, wait. I think he's coming.'

  Sukey slumped down on the steps holding her head in her hands. 'I can't stand this. I wish I'd never come.'

  'It is Walter.' Rosina ran to meet him. 'Oh, Walter, I was never so glad to see anyone in my whole life.'

  He stopped, holding his side and panting. 'I – I thought I'd missed you and I ran all the way back to Black Eagle Wharf.'

  'Well, fellow,' Harry said, folding his arms across his chest. 'As you can see, we're here waiting for you.'

  Rosina cast him a reproachful look. Poor Walter had been doing them a favour and Harry was being so disagreeable. She patted Walter's arm. 'I'm so sorry you were put to all that trouble.'

  He took off his spectacles and wiped them on his shirt tail, which had worked its way loose. 'It's all right, miss. No harm done.'

  'Look at the state of you, man!' Harry shot him a scornful glance. 'I suggest you tidy yourself up before I allow you to escort the young ladies to their respective homes.'

  'Harry, don't be so – so pompous!' Rosina stared at him aghast. This was a side of him that she had not witnessed before the events of this evening. Perhaps it was the drink that had made him behave so, but whatever it was, she did not like him much at the moment. She turned to Walter. 'I'd be most grateful if you could find us a cab, Walter.'

  'Of course, miss.' He tipped his cap and hurried off in the direction of the Highway.

  'And as for you, Harry,' she said angrily, 'this was all your idea and you should be grateful to Walter for helping us out. I think you ought to apologise to him for being so grumpy.'

  'Me, apologise to a mere clerk? I think not.'

  'If that mere clerk had raised the alarm, or knocked on your parents' door and demanded to know where we were, then you would be in serious trouble with my papa and with Captain Barnum. You might think you own us all because our fathers depend on yours to give them trade, but you are mistaken. My father could find business anywhere along the Thames.' She hooked her arm around Sukey's shoulders and helped her to her feet. 'Come, Sukey. It's time we went home.'

  'I say, don't be like that, Rosie.' Harry hurried down the steps to stand at her side. 'I didn't mean to offend you, or the clerk fellow come to that. Perhaps I'd better come home with you. I can explain to your housekeeper and to Mrs Barnum that our party went on later than expected. I'll write a note of apology as from my mother tomorrow and send it round, if you like.'

  'Oh, dear.' Sukey leaned her head against Rosina's shoulder. 'I'm in for it. I just know it.'

  'You'll do no such thing,' Rosina said hotly. 'We'll do as we planned, and there's no need for you to forge your mother's signature, Harry. I won't hear of it.'

  'Well, all right, if you're sure. But I'll call round tomorrow to make certain that you're not in trouble.' He waved to attract the driver of an approaching cab, but his gesture proved unnecessary as it drew to a halt and Walter leapt out onto the pavement.

  'I was lucky,' Walter said, holding the door open. 'There was one passing at just the right moment.'

  The door of the Barnums' house was opened by Gertie, who was dressed for bed in a calico nightgown with her hair tied up in rags, but had obviously been asleep at her post. She blinked at them like a sleepy owl as Sukey went indoors, scolding Gertie for not remaining awake.

  Rosina heaved a sigh of relief as the door closed. 'It doesn't look as though she was missed.' She leaned on Walter's arm as they walked on towards home. 'Let's hope it's that easy for me.'

  'I wouldn't worry on that score, miss. Bertha trusts me to bring you home safely, and she thinks that Gostellow is a gentleman.'

  She was quick to hear the note of disapproval in his voice. 'That's not fair, Walter. Harry is a gentleman. He just had a little drop too much champagne and he was cross with . . .' She broke off in mid-sentence. She had almost mentioned the fascinating man who called himself 'Pirate', but that would never do. Neither Walter nor her papa would understand, or approve. She bit her lip, hoping that he had not noticed, or at least would not question her. 'You go on, Walter,' she said, as they reached the door to her house. 'I'm quite safe now.'

  'I'll just see you inside, miss.'

  She hesitated with the latchkey in her hand. 'I really do appreciate what you've done for me tonight, Walter. And I'm so sorry that Harry was rude to you.'

  His back was to the street light and the glass of his spectacles was acting like a mirror – all she could see in them was her own anxious face.

  'It's quite all right, miss. No harm done.'

  'You are a good friend to me, Walter.'

  'I hope so, miss.'

  She turned the key in the lock and the door groaned on its hinges. She stifled a giggle as she stepped inside. 'I hope Bebe didn't hear that.'

  Walter stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light. 'I'll see you in the morning.'

  'It is the morning.'

  'Then I'll see you later, miss.'

  As he turned to go, Rosina was awash with guilt. Dear, solid, dependable Walter. She called his name and he stopped, turned to look at her. 'Miss?'

  She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. 'Thank you, dear Walter.'

  She closed her eyes. For a wonderful, intoxicating moment, she could smell spices, lemons and above all, Indian ink. She dropped her hands to her sides and took a step backwards. Of course she could smell Indian ink – it clung to Walter like a London particular. He spent half his life writing in dreary old ledgers and account books. If he cut himself, he probably bled black ink. The smell had fooled her tired brain into linking it with the man she had only met a few hours ago, and with whom she had fallen desperately in love.

  'Goodnight, Walter.' She closed the door and locked it.

  She went into the kitchen, and taking a spill from the jar on the mantelshelf she stuck it in the glowing embers of the fire, watching the tip turn red and then burst into flame. She lit a candle and tossed the spill into the fire. What a night it had been – her head spun with the sights, sounds and the memory of a man's arms holding her as they danced. She crept upstairs to her room and slipped off her dress, letting it fall to the ground in a heap of crumpled muslin. She stepped out of it and unlaced her stays, tossing them onto the chintz-covered chair on which her doll, Dorcas, sat with her frilled skirts spread out around her and her dark, painted eyes staring blindly into space. Taking off her undergarments, Rosina stood in the flickering candlelight, staring at her reflection in the cheval mirror that had once belonged to her mother. She ran her hands lightly over her breasts and down the smooth curve of her belly to her thighs. Suddenly her body, which had never been of much interest to her in the past, became a mysterious entity filled with strange sensations and longings for which she had no name. She closed her eyes and her head was filled with the image of a handsome man wearing a mask; she could recall every second
of their brief time together. She parted her lips and she could taste his kiss. She opened her eyes and realised that she was blushing. Her whole body was tinged with pink at the wild thoughts running through her head.

 

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