The Constant Heart

by Dilly Court

  He patted her hand, saying nothing, but she was not deceived by his silence. She had felt the quiver of emotion run through him, and she realised that, until this moment, she had never felt closer to Walter, or felt that she had a better understanding of him. Not so long ago she had thought him stiff and starchy to the point of boredom – now she knew better. He might not have the dash and panache of his brother, but Walter was not as dull as she had first thought. They walked on companionably, arm in arm, towards Black Eagle Wharf.

  When they reached Union Stairs, Walter stopped. 'I had better not come any further. I'm too well known round here, and it's better that you're not seen with me.'

  'I understand. And I'll be fine from here.' She reached up and kissed his cheek. 'Goodbye, my dear Walter.'

  He nodded abruptly and turned on his heel, but Rosina caught him by the sleeve. 'Please tell me his name. I know I may never see him again, but I would dearly love to be able to put a name to his face.'

  The late afternoon sun slanted off Walter's spectacles, making it impossible for Rosina to read the expression in his eyes. He hesitated; she thought that he was going to refuse her request, and then he seemed to relent. 'Will. His name is Will.'

  Rosina opened her mouth to repeat the magical name, but the blast of a steam whistle from a launch at the bottom of Union Stairs made her start, and look round. The boatman threw a line ashore, and a dock worker scrambled to catch it and loop it over a bollard. She turned back to speak to Walter, but he had gone.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bertha pounced on her the moment Rosina put her foot inside the house. 'Where have you been, you bad girl? And just look at you – wandering about the streets looking like a common flower seller. Where's your bonnet and gloves?'

  Rosina had been thinking up excuses all the way from Union Stairs, but, looking at Bertha's angry face, she knew that she would spot an untruth immediately. 'I – I – went for a walk.'

  'Balderdash! You've been up to something, my girl, but there ain't time to go into that now. Upstairs with you and wash your hands and face. You've got to change into your best gown and Caddie can do something with your hair. You look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards.' Bertha shooed her towards the staircase. 'Hurry up. Don't dawdle.'

  'What is all the fuss about?'

  'You rushed off and left Mr Harry standing there like a lemon. He was going to take you to buy the ring and yet you rushed off goodness knows where. Whatever got into your head, Rosina?'

  'I – I needed time to think.'

  'You ought to be considering your man, not running wild about the neighbourhood.'

  'Was he very angry?'

  'He was mad as fire, and so was your pa. It brought on one of his breathless attacks and he's had to go for a lie down on his bed. You've upset everyone by your thoughtless behaviour. You bad, bad girl.'

  'I'm sorry you were upset, but I'm not doing anything until you tell me what's going on.'

  'Mr Harry will be here shortly. He's going to take you to meet his parents, and your pa is invited too. I've got to get him up and dressed in his Sunday best, so you get on up them stairs, Rosie. This is your chance to shine in society. We'll all be made if you get in with the nobs.'

  There was no escape now; she had made her own bed, as Bertha was so fond of saying, and she would have to lie on it – with Harry. Rosina went slowly up the stairs to her bedroom with a panicky feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had thought she could go through with the engagement, but that was before she discovered that her pirate was Walter's brother. Will had become flesh and blood, a real person, instead of the shadowy romantic figure who was never far from her thoughts. She would have to tell Harry that she could not be his wife, but she would wait for the right moment.

  She slipped off her blouse and stepped out of her skirt. It was stiflingly hot in her bedroom and flies buzzed tiredly against the windowpanes. She could not bear to see them trapped and she opened the window, watching them drop downwards and then soar up and fly away. They would probably end up on the wrong end of a fly swat, but at least she had given them a brief moment of freedom. The air was unnaturally still and the sails of the moored vessels hung limply against the ships' masts. The sky had a sulphurous yellow tinge, and the gathering clouds promised a thunderstorm later. Rosina went to the washstand and poured water from the flower-patterned jug into the china bowl. She felt hot and sticky, and perspiration pearled on her skin. She splashed the cool water on her face, shivering as it trickled down her neck. The medallion felt cold as it nestled between her breasts. She closed her fingers around it, conjuring up a vision of Will's smiling face. 'Will,' she whispered over and over again. As her lips formed the single syllable, it was as if they were preparing to receive his kiss. She was startled out of her reverie by a rap on the door. She reached for her wrap. 'C-come in.'

  Caddie hesitated on the threshold. 'Bertha said I was to come and help you dress.'

  'Oh, it's you.' Rosina sank down on the edge of the bed.

  'Is everything all right, miss?'

  'Caddie, since when have you started calling me miss?'

  'Bertha said I was not to be familiar now that you're going up in the world.'

  'That's nonsense, and I won't have it. We're friends, aren't we, Caddie?'

  'I'd like to think so.'

  'It is so, and always will be. But I would be grateful if you'd help me dress and put up my hair. I suppose I must look my best for Harry's dreadful mama.'

  'I'll see what I can do.'

  Rosina sat on the stool in front of her dressing table. She stared in the mirror, watching Caddie's nimble fingers fashion her long hair into sleek coils. 'Where did you learn to do hair like that?'

  'I weren't always a wife and mother,' Caddie said, smiling. 'I was lady's maid to a merchant's wife in Islington afore I met Artie. Started as a tweeny, I did, when I was ten, and worked me way up.'

  'You certainly have got a magic touch.' Rosina watched appreciatively as her hair was arranged into an elaborate coronet.

  'Now, if you had some pearls or fancy combs, I could make you look like a queen.' Caddie stood back to admire her work. Her eyes lighted upon the medallion and a puzzled frown creased her brow.

  'What are you staring at, Caddie?'

  'Nothing. I mean, I ain't seen that piece of jewellery before.'

  'It was given to me by a friend.'

  'You're blushing, Rosie.'

  Their eyes met in the mirror, and Rosina realised that she simply had to tell someone about Will or she would burst. She had not intended to say so much, but once started, she found that she could not stop. Caddie sat down on the bed, listening open-mouthed. Rosina eyed her nervously. 'No one else knows any of this, Caddie. I want you to promise me that you won't breathe it to a soul.'

  Caddie's blue eyes were huge in her pale face. 'Cross me heart and hope to die.'

  'I'll never see him again. I thought about breaking off my engagement to Harry, but if I do that then Papa will lose the Ellie May and we will have to leave this house. I'll try to be a good wife to Harry, I really will.'

  'It won't be easy, not if you're in love with someone else.'

  'I have no choice, Caddie. And Harry must never know.'

  'Then you'd best take that thing off.' Caddie rose to her feet and picked up the gown that Bertha had laid out on the bed. 'Here, step into it, and I'll do you up.'

  Rosina took a deep breath while Caddie did up the tiny pearl buttons down the back of the bodice. As she surveyed her reflection in the mirror, she realised that Caddie had been right. The gold chain and pendant were exposed for all to see by the low neckline of the afternoon gown. 'I said I would never take it off.'

  'Then you'll have a lot of explaining to do.' Caddie angled her head. 'Unless – have you got a locket? I'm sure if you had one large enough, that little medallion would fit inside nicely, and no one would know the difference.'

  Rosina flung her arms around Caddie and hugged her. 'Why didn't
I think of that?' She went to the dressing table and opened a small casket, which held the few items of jewellery in her possession. She poked around with her forefinger until she found what she was looking for; and she held it up with a triumphant smile. 'This is the only piece of jewellery I have that belonged to my mother.' She prised the locket open and handed it to Caddie. 'See, there is a watercolour portrait of both my parents.'

  'You look just like your mum,' Caddie said. 'And the captain looks so different without his whiskers.' She almost dropped it as a shout from downstairs made them both jump.

  'Rosina, your young man is here.' Bertha called. 'Did you hear me?'

  'Give it to me, please,' Rosina said, holding out her hand. 'Go down and tell Bebe I'm nearly ready. It won't take me a minute to put the medallion inside the locket. Go, now.'

  Harry's dour expression lightened as he looked up and saw Rosina coming down the stairs. He held out his hands. 'My darling, you do me proud.'

  She descended slowly, holding her head high and forcing her lips into a smile. 'I must apologise for this afternoon, Harry.'

  'I forgive you, Rosie. But you must never do that again. Now we are officially engaged, you are not to wander round the streets alone. You must be accompanied at all times.'

  Biting back an angry retort, she drew her hands away. 'What possible harm can come to me round here? I've walked out on my own ever since I can remember.'

  'But you were just a child. Soon you are to be a married woman, and you will have risen in society. Ladies do not wander the street unaccompanied.' Harry glanced at Caddie, who was standing at the foot of the stairs. 'You, Trigg, what is your position in this household?'

  'Harry!' Rosina stared at him, shocked and surprised by his tone of voice. 'You can't speak to Caddie like that.'

  'Hush, my dear. Leave this to me.' Harry beckoned to Caddie. 'No offence meant, Trigg. I'm a blunt man when it comes to business matters. Are you employed by Captain May?'

  Caddie bobbed a curtsey. 'No, sir. I – I just live here.'

  'Then may I suggest that you earn your keep by acting as lady's maid to Miss Rosina? I will pay you a suitable wage and then you need not feel as though you are taking advantage of the captain's hospitality.'

  'Please, Harry.' Rosina caught him by the arm. 'You're embarrassing both me and Caddie. There's no question of her being a servant in my father's house.'

  'Isn't there?' Harry looked up as Edward came slowly down the stairs, followed by Bertha. 'Captain May. I've made the suggestion that Trigg should be employed on a regular basis as lady's maid to my fiancée. Rosina seems to think this is in bad taste. What do you think, sir?'

  Edward tugged at his necktie. 'Dashed uncomfortable things, neckties. Don't like dressing up like a tailor's dummy.'

  'Papa. Please tell Harry that you are the head of the household, and that you make decisions here.'

  'Rosie, dearest.' Harry took her by the hand. 'I would have thought that Trigg would infinitely prefer working as your maid to the alternative of the workhouse.'

  'The workhouse!' Caddie's knees buckled and she collapsed on the bottom stair tread, burying her face in her hands. 'For the love of God, sir. Not the workhouse.'

  'See what you've done.' Rosina shot him a furious look. She rushed to Caddie's side, placing her arm around her shaking shoulders. 'Don't worry, there's no question of you ever going to the workhouse. You are safe here with us.'

  'I'll be your maid, miss,' Caddie said, sniffing. 'I'll work for nothing so long as you let me and me babies stay with you.'

  Edward made his way past them. 'I can't pay you, my dear. But if young Harry has a mind to, then I'd say you should take it and be grateful.'

  'Maybe he'd like to pay me too,' Bertha muttered, helping Rosina to raise Caddie to her feet. 'It's years since I had any wages.'

  'We already have a housekeeper,' Harry said stiffly. 'But I'm sure that Captain May will keep you on after Miss Rosina and I are married. Naturally we will be living with my parents in Wellclose Square.'

  'But Harry, this is my home.' Rosina cried angrily. She had not considered the practicalities of being married into the Gostellow family, and now she was really worried. Panic seized her and she was tempted to run up to her bedroom and lock the door, but Harry had taken her firmly by the hand and he drew her gently away from Caddie.

  'Silly goose, of course we'll live in the mansion with my parents. You wouldn't expect me to live here, would you?' He turned to Caddie. 'Fetch Miss Rosina's mantle and gloves, please, Trigg. My father's carriage is waiting in the High Street, and I suggest we leave before it starts to rain.'

  The first clap of thunder rolled around the darkening sky just as the carriage pulled up outside the Gostellows' mansion in Wellclose Square. The matched pair of bays snorted and reared in the shafts, and the coachman leapt off his seat to hold their heads. A footman ran down the steps to open the carriage door. Harry climbed out first and he helped Rosina to alight. He smiled down at her as he led her up the steps and into the house. 'Welcome to what will soon be your home, my lovely bride-to-be.'

  A flash of lightning illuminated the gloomy hallway for a brief second and Potter loomed from behind a marble pillar, making Rosina jump.

  'May I take your mantle, miss?'

  Rosina shrugged the garment off and handed it to him. 'Thank you, Mr Potter.'

  'It's just Potter, miss.'

  'You have so much to learn, my darling.' Harry chuckled as he handed his top hot and gloves to the butler. 'Are my parents in the drawing room?'

  'They are, sir.' Potter hobbled over to Edward to relieve him of his hat and coat.

  'Come and say hello to your future in-laws, my darling.' Harry offered her his arm. He glanced over his shoulder at Edward. 'You know my father, sir, but I do not believe you have ever met my mama.'

  Edward cleared his throat, running his finger round the inside of his starched collar. 'No. I've not yet had that pleasure.'

  Rosina shot him an encouraging smile, but she suppressed a shudder as they entered the drawing room. She felt a definite chill, even though it was hot and sultry out of doors. Margaret Gostellow was lying on the chaise longue in front of a roaring fire. She might never have moved since the last time Rosina had seen her, except for the fact that she was now wearing an ivory satin gown lavishly trimmed with Brussels lace and pearls. She stared at Rosina through a lorgnette, her hooded eyes registering nothing except the faintest hint of surprise. 'I see that you can look presentable when you make the effort. I'm agreeably surprised.'

  Rosina bit back a sharp retort. 'Good evening, ma'am.'

  Harry leaned closer to Rosina, lowering his voice. 'Mama meant it as a compliment, my love. She speaks her mind, but you'll soon get used to that.'

  Margaret eyed him with an ominous frown. 'If you have something to say, Harry, say it so that we can all hear.'

  'Mama, may I introduce Captain Edward May?' Harry gave Edward a gentle shove towards the chaise longue. 'Captain May, my mother, Margaret Gostellow.'

  Edward bowed from the waist. 'Charmed to make your acquaintance, ma'am.'

  A flash of lightning illuminated the shadowy room just long enough for Rosina to realise that a man was sitting in a wing-back chair, smoking a cigar. He rose to his feet, moving towards them and exhaling a cloud of blue smoke. 'So this is your intended, my boy?'

  'Yes, Father. May I present my fiancée, Rosina May?'

  'How do, my dear?' Harold Gostellow breathed cigar fumes into her face as he kissed her on the cheek. 'What a little beauty, Harry, my boy. You show excellent taste in women as you do in horseflesh.' He winked at Rosina and guffawed. She saw that he had long yellow teeth, rather like one of his horses. She was not absolutely certain, but she thought that his free hand had strayed to touch her bottom, although with a bustle at the back of her gown it was not possible to be completely sure. Bobbing a curtsey, she backed away. 'How do you do, sir?'