by Ann Barker
Never, ever see Raff again
She stared at this last item briefly before drawing a line through it. Then, underneath, she wrote again.
Refuse to see Raff again before my wedding
No, that would not do either. Again, she crossed out what she had written, thinking before having another try.
Not allow Raff to kiss me again
That was better, she thought decisively. After all, how could she possibly decide not to see Raff when he was Lady Agatha’s brother and when Mrs Machin showed a distressing tendency to welcome him like a long lost relative? But deciding not to allow him to kiss her was a wise decision. He probably would not want to kiss her again, anyway, and she certainly did not want more kisses from such a depraved rake. He had only done it because he was annoyed with her. She could still feel his mouth on hers, firm, demanding … Shaking off these dangerous thoughts, she took up her list again. After another long pause, eventually she wrote down her final item.
Keep out of the way of Sir Wallace Weary
This was also a wise decision. Having exhausted the possibilities for her list, Jessie put down her pen and taking up her candles, went to sit next to the empty fireplace in order to read the book that Lady Ilam had given her. She opened the copy of A Vindication of the Rights of Woman and smiled bitterly as she read these words:
Till women are led to exercise their understandings, they should not be satirized for their attachment to rakes; nor even for being rakes at heart, when it appears to be the inevitable consequence of their education. They who live to please – must find their enjoyments, their happiness, in pleasure!
Jessie sighed. At least, it seemed, Miss Wollstonecraft would not blame her for having had a weakness for a rake; but she would have to take issue with the rest of the sentence. Her life had certainly been one of attempting to please others and when she had attempted to take pleasure for herself, she had only ended up feeling guilty.
Eventually, she did drop off to sleep after reading a few more pages. She was glad that Mrs Machin did not insist upon early rising, for the sun was well up before she stirred, and even then, when she got downstairs, she found that the other lady was still abed. Her meal concluded, she went upstairs again to examine her list in the clear light of day.
The first resolution she discounted immediately. There would be absolutely no purpose served in making such a confession. It would only make Henry angry over something that he could not do anything about. As for the second, it was all very well to resolve to wear her ring. The problem was, there were some places where it would not be suitable to risk its loss – at the poor house, for example. How shocking it would be if she mislaid it. Then she would indeed have something to confess!
The third item on the list – visiting the poor house – she would do that very day. It would serve as an act of penance. The items on the list that concerned Raff, and the one concerning Wallace Weary, she would look at another time. For the present, she would occupy the rest of the morning with writing to Henry. That would be a good preparation for her fourth resolution. Then, after luncheon, she would go to the poor house, unless Mrs Machin wanted her company for a walk, or to go shopping.
When Henrietta did eventually emerge, however, it seemed that going out was the last thing she wanted to do. Her mind was positively seething with ideas after the previous night’s experience and she desired nothing more than an afternoon’s solitude in which to write down all her impressions.
‘Do you mind if I take Dilly with me?’ Jessie asked. ‘I think Mr Hinder said that he would be from home this afternoon.’
‘Take her by all means,’ replied Mrs Machin, in rather abstracted tones. ‘And now, I must get on with my work.’
For going to the poor house, Jessie went upstairs to change into one of her plainest gowns. She was coming down the stairs tying the strings of her bonnet when the door-bell rang, and Dilly came into the hall and opened the door to admit Raff. He was in a dark-blue coat with buff breeches and waistcoat and shiny black boots, and all at once he made Jessie feel quite shabby.
‘Good afternoon, Jez,’ he said, executing an elegant bow. ‘I’ve come to call on you, but I see you are going out.’
‘I am,’ Jessie agreed, ‘and I do not advise your interrupting Mrs Machin at the moment. She is wrestling with her muse.’
‘Then I will leave her in peace. Where are you going? You shouldn’t go out alone, as I’ve told you before. London is full of unsavoury characters.’
‘Yes, so I have discovered,’ she answered staring pointedly at him, which gaze he returned with a bland expression. ‘Dilly is going with me, so I am not going alone,’ she continued, annoyed with herself for blushing. ‘I am going to the poor house.’
‘Thrown out already?’ he said in sympathetic tones. ‘Shall I plead with Henrietta on your behalf?’
She had to smile at this, even though her feelings towards him were in turmoil. ‘No, I am going to read with the children,’ she replied.
‘Then let us go,’ he responded. ‘Leave Dilly at home. I will be your escort instead.’ She stared at him for a moment or two. ‘Any objections?’ he asked, his brows soaring.
‘You are always telling me that I shouldn’t be seen with you,’ Jessie pointed out.
‘Yes, but I need to talk to you.’
‘All right,’ she said after a moment or two. ‘It will at any rate give you the opportunity to apologize.’
‘Apologize?’ he asked, raising his brows again.
Then, a moment or two later, he added, ‘As a matter of fact, I was going to apologize, but I don’t like being told to do so. Are you quite ready? Shall we go?’
They set off walking along Sloane Street in the direction of Knightsbridge. Ashbourne offered his arm, and after a moment or two’s hesitation, Jez took it. ‘It’s all right,’ he told her. ‘I don’t bite.’
‘Don’t you?’ she replied dubiously.
‘Very well, I apologize,’ he said wearily. ‘Will that do?’
‘I don’t know,’ she answered him candidly. ‘I’m not at all sure what you are apologizing for, you see.’
They both halted, and for a moment, they locked gazes as he looked down at her and she looked up at him. ‘Neither am I,’ he said, both his tone and his expression utterly serious. As she looked into his eyes, it was if she was transported back to Vauxhall, to that moment in the Dark Walk when he had kissed her. She remembered the feel of his mouth covering hers and she knew that her face was flaming. They walked on for some time in silence.
Then, in a different tone he went on, ‘With regard to Wallace Weary—’
She cut him off. ‘Shall we consider the matter closed?’ she said. ‘You made it quite clear last night that you are not prepared to hear my criticisms of your life. You therefore have no right to tell me what I should do in mine.’
‘The two cases are not the same,’ he replied. ‘You are a complete innocent. You have no idea of what the likes of Wallace Weary are capable; whereas I—’
‘Whereas you know all too well, since there is very little to choose between you,’ she interrupted. ‘May I remind you that it was you who walked off and left me completely at his mercy?’
Two red spots of colour appeared on his cheekbones. ‘I had not realized that your entire party would be so utterly lacking in sense,’ he responded. ‘Conducting a party from Bedlam would have been easier. Would to God I’d never agreed to take you there.’
‘In case you had forgotten, it was not my choice, was it? It was Henrietta’s idea to invite you.’
‘I suppose you would have preferred it, then, if you had had Wallace Weary’s escort instead.’
‘Infinitely,’ she answered with vigour, if not with complete truth. ‘At least he did not drag me in amongst the bushes and force his embraces upon me.’
He laughed shortly. ‘Force? Is that how you remember it? I seem to recall that you were a willing participant.’
‘How dare you!’ she exclaimed,
all the more angry because she knew that he was right.
‘The truth hurts, does it? Well here’s another fact. The only reason that Weary did not drag you into the bushes was lack of opportunity. No doubt you would have been quite happy to receive such attentions at his hands. How would you have responded to his kisses, my lovely Jezebel?’
She stared at him. ‘You’re disgusting,’ she said. ‘A rake, a libertine, who pays women to … to …’
‘At least I’m not engaged to a clergyman who is conveniently away in Derbyshire,’ he retorted.
The fact that she had been belabouring her conscience with this very matter did not improve her temper. ‘How can you bring Henry into this?’ she demanded. ‘Henry is worth ten of you – twenty!’
‘Of course he is,’ Ashbourne answered. ‘What is that to the purpose?’
‘Why nothing,’ she answered, trying to think of the most hurtful thing that she could say. ‘I suppose what I mean is that although being with a well-known rake is diverting in a way, a woman looks for someone of greater substance in the man she marries.’ She paused. ‘I’ve outgrown you, Raff. Pray do not put yourself out any further on my account. I would much prefer it if you stayed away from me completely. I will give your excuses to Henrietta. Doubtless she will understand that infidelity in any kind of relationship is one of the hallmarks of a rake.’
They had just reached the entrance of the poor house. Ashbourne bowed, with his usual elegance. His face was chalk white. ‘Very well, ma’am. It shall be as you say,’ he responded. ‘Don’t be afraid that I will trouble you any further.’ He touched his hat and walked away. She stood and watched him until he went out of sight.
Chapter Fifteen
Jessie had not thought that the day could possibly get any worse, but she was proved to be wrong when she returned home in a hackney, procured for her by the matron, to be told by Dilly that a gentleman had come to visit them. Jessie’s first thought was that it might be Raff, come to make up their differences, and her heart gave a little skip. Then she recalled that Dilly knew Raff, and would hardly refer to him just as a gentleman. It could not possibly be Henry or Mr Hinder for the same reason.
‘Has he been here long?’ Jessie asked, when she had established that Dilly had no idea of the gentleman’s name.
‘Only just come, miss,’ Dilly replied.
Jessie went upstairs, took off her outside garments and smoothed her hair, then came back to join Henrietta in the drawing-room.
‘So you see, that is why we were at Vauxhall; so that I might conduct further research,’ said Hetty’s voice.
‘My dear ma’am, I understand completely. How very ingenious of you.’ Jessie was conscious of a slow, creeping sensation of dread as she heard the rather nasal accents of Sir Wallace Weary. What was more, it sounded as though Mrs Machin had been so indiscreet as to confide in the baronet with regard to her novel writing. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Sir Wallace looked up at her entrance, and got to his feet, a wide smile spreading across his features. ‘Miss Warburton, how delightful to see you,’ he said. ‘Mrs Machin told me that you had gone out, so I did not dare hope for this pleasure.’
‘Indeed,’ Jessie replied in frosty accents. ‘Henrietta, is the tea fresh, or shall I ring for more?’
‘Please do ring,’ Mrs Machin replied. ‘Sir Wallace, you will stay for another cup?’
‘I should be glad to do so, but I fear that my presence is not welcome to Miss Warburton.’
If he had decided on a direct approach, thought Jessie, then she too could be similarly frank. ‘I cannot imagine how you could ever suppose that it would be, sir, after your insinuations of the other night.’
‘Insinuations!’ exclaimed Henrietta. Jessie was not sure whether she was on the point of asking him to leave, or of demanding that he repeat his remarks so that she could use them for her book.
Sir Wallace looked abashed. ‘I fear that I rather over-indulged in arrack punch,’ he confessed. ‘I am glad of the opportunity to admit that I did not act like a gentleman and to apologize for it.’
‘Had you also over-indulged in arrack punch when we met you in the bookshop?’ Jessie asked, opening her eyes wide.
‘No,’ he admitted, ‘but I was with Ashbourne. He always brings out the worst in me, I fear. I would be very grateful, ladies, if you would forget my past misdemeanours, and allow me to make a new start.’
Despite her quarrel with Ashbourne, Jessie immediately found her hackles rising at this implied criticism. Henrietta did not seem to be similarly affected, however, and she said immediately, ‘I am sure that we would be less than Christian if we did anything else.’
Sir Wallace stayed for half an hour and during that time, took another cup of tea and exerted himself to please. Jessie did not completely let her guard down, but his cheerful good humour made a welcome change to her recent angry exchanges with Raff.
Before he left, he invited them to go with him for a drive in Hyde Park. ‘Such an outing will be an opportunity for me to make up for my past sins,’ he told them.
‘I am afraid that our arrangements are a little uncertain,’ said Jessie, still not convinced of the man’s sincerity.
Henrietta appeared to have no such doubts. ‘My friend is thinking of evening outings,’ she said. ‘During the day, however, we can easily make arrangements to join you.’
‘Splendid,’ declared Sir Wallace. ‘Shall we say tomorrow, if it is fine?’ The ladies agreed, one with enthusiasm, the other with barely concealed reluctance, and soon afterwards he took his leave.
The moment the front door had closed behind him, Jessie exclaimed, ‘Hettie! That dreadful man! What upon earth can have possessed you?’
‘Do you think he is so very dreadful?’ Henrietta asked, wrinkling her brow. ‘He has always seemed perfectly civil to me.’
‘Well he has not been to me,’ Jessie replied frankly. ‘In fact, at Vauxhall he was vulgar and insinuating.’
‘But he has explained that, dear. He had too much to drink. I have never had a relative inclined to that sort of habit, but I am told that it can have a shocking effect upon the most proper person.’
‘It certainly can,’ agreed Jessie with feeling, thinking not just about Sir Wallace but about Squire Warburton.
‘There you are then,’ replied Henrietta. ‘Anyway, we are only going out with him for a drive. What could be more harmless than that? He will not have had a chance to get drunk then, surely?’
‘No, perhaps not. But you are forgetting that he was just as bad when we met him in the bookshop. I don’t trust him, Hettie.’
‘Well, of course, I do not trust him either. You must not think me completely naïve. I intend to make very good use of him.’
‘For your book?’
‘For my book. He will be another rake to observe, besides Raff.’
Jessie remembered rather guiltily that she had told Raff not to come again, and thus had cut off one of Henrietta’s sources of information. ‘I suppose a drive in Hyde Park would not do any real harm,’ she said slowly.
‘Exactly what I have been saying all along,’ Hettie pointed out.
‘You must be very discreet about what you disclose to him, though,’ Jessie warned her. ‘I would give something to find out how he discovered our address, for instance.’
‘Perhaps through the bookshop,’ Hettie suggested. ‘Anyway, let us leave that subject, for there is another matter that I want you to help me with.’
‘Something else to do with your book?’
Hettie nodded. ‘I have decided that I need to find out about brothels.’
Jessie was glad that she had finished her cup of tea, or she would certainly have choked. ‘Brothels?’ she exclaimed.
‘My heroine is to visit one in search of a gentleman who has wronged her,’ Henrietta answered. ‘So I have decided that we ought to go to one in disguise.’
‘Surely you do not intend us to go inside?’ said Jessie, much shoc
ked.
‘Certainly not,’ Henrietta replied. ‘All we need do is to sit outside in a closed carriage and watch as people go in and out. It will give me an idea of how many people attend, what the women look like, at what times they are busy, and so on. If we are lucky, someone might even leave the door open for long enough for us to see inside.’
‘What if we are spotted?’ Jessie asked. ‘Not that I have agreed to go, you understand.’
‘We will go heavily veiled. We may even wear masks if you wish. Of course,’ she mused in a thoughtful tone, ‘One could always slip inside if one were masked, for just a little minute. Oh do, please, say you will go, Jessie. It would mean such a lot to me.’
‘I will think about it,’ said Jessie. ‘But you may dismiss that idea about ever setting foot in such a place immediately. What’s more, you must promise me that you will not mention the matter to anyone else and certainly not to Sir Wallace. Heaven knows what he would make of that.’
‘Of course, dear,’ replied Hettie, her eyes on her sewing.
Jessie awoke the following morning having had second thoughts about their outing with Sir Wallace. So uneasy did she feel that she decided to say that she would not go. She felt a little guilty because this would mean that Henrietta would not be able to go either. She would no doubt be disappointed, but it could not be helped.
Having made this decision, Jessie went downstairs for breakfast and steeled herself to give her friend the bad news. As is often the case when such a decision has been made she found that she had to wait to disclose it because Mrs Machin had not yet come downstairs. Jessie was very much afraid that she might be taking special trouble with her appearance. When that lady did appear, however, she looked as disturbed as her guest.
