The Gilded Lily

by Deborah Swift

  ‘Ships. I’m watching for tall ships.’

  ‘Come on, Sadie, get supper started. I’ve bought some herrings, and a big fat bloomer from the bakery. And I’ve got good news.’

  Her heart leapt. ‘Have they stopped looking for us?’

  ‘No. No, not that.’

  Sadie sighed, and turned to the window again. ‘Better fetch the water from the pump,’ she said, still looking out. ‘Go on. And you’d better lock me in. You never know, I might go running into the street shouting, “Look at us! We’re the Savage Sisters!”’

  Ella made a noisy fuss of fetching the bucket and disappeared downstairs to fill it from the pump well in the yard round the corner. When she came back she held it gingerly with both hands so it swayed and slopped as she carried it.

  ‘Why are you carrying it like that?’ Sadie said.

  ‘The rope tears my hands. I don’t want them to look like working girl’s hands. And I forgot to put my gloves on.’

  Sadie lifted her hands in mock horror. ‘Oh my, milady, we can’t have that.’

  ‘Look, Sadie, let’s get a fire lit and supper on. You’re just hungry. You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten.’ Ella set down the bucket and rubbed at her palm with her fingers. She began to pull out sticks one by one from the kindling, dragging them at arm’s length so the whole pile came with it. Unable to resist, Sadie hurried over to help.

  ‘Not like that, look – it makes it untidy. Come here, I’ll do it.’ Sadie crouched to make up the fire.

  Ella drew out a waxed paper packet from her basket, opening it so the salty smell filled the room. ‘Get a skillet on, there’s enough for two portions each.’

  Sadie sniffed. ‘Did you say there was bread?’

  Ella held up the chubby loaf with a flourish. ‘Tan-tara!’

  Sadie smiled, though she wasn’t really ready to. She cleared the table and coaxed the fire with the remains of the wood, and as she did these practical tasks she felt in better cheer. Soon there was the pungent smell of frying fish. She bent over the skillet with concentration, turning the fish gently with a wooden spatula so as not to break them. Ella watched, a safe distance from the spitting pan. Fish smoke was renowned for lingering in hair and clothes, she said.

  Sadie said grace. She did this on purpose because she knew Ella had no time for it. Ella shuffled on her seat whilst she did so. Happen Ella did not like her inviting the Good Lord in to watch them and see what they were doing, but it made Sadie feel safer somehow. They ate in silence a while, giving their full attention to the food.

  ‘It’s good,’ Sadie said, with her mouth full. ‘It was a fine idea to get herring, Ella.’ She was trying to apologize for her earlier sulkiness. ‘Tell me about this news, now.’

  Ella took another small mouthful, but then put the bread down.

  ‘Well, I’ve been promoted.’

  ‘Oh, Ell, that’s gradely. Does that mean you’ll be getting more money?’

  ‘Yes, a bit more, but it’s different hours. I’m to work afternoons and evenings now.’

  ‘Oh.’ Sadie tried to take in what that would mean.

  Ella went on, ‘It’ll be late evenings, because Whitgift’s is going to stay open till gone midnight.’

  Sadie put down her plate. ‘Ella, can’t you turn it down? It’s awful lonely here at night. Now I don’t go out, the nights on my own are the worst.’

  ‘I’ve already said yes. It’s a big compliment, it would have been insulting to the Whitgifts to turn it down.’

  Sadie sighed. ‘I can see you’ve made your mind up, and you’ll go your own way as usual. Well, I suppose we’ll just have to make the most of the mornings then.’

  Ella trailed the fish heads round her plate with her knife, before looking up. ‘The thing is, Sadie, it’s a live-in position,’ she said, and then hastily, ‘It’s only temporary, just for a few weeks whilst the Lily gets up and running . . .’

  Sadie stared a moment, then stood up and threw the platter down on the table so the knife clattered to the ground.

  ‘What about me?’

  Ella’s hand stopped halfway to her mouth.

  ‘What about me, Ella? Is there a place for me at your precious Whitgift’s? Oh, I thought not. I can’t sleep nights because the whole of London’s out looking for me. For me, Ella. For something you’ve done.’

  Ella took her plate off her lap and set it on the table. She wiped her mouth on her kerchief with irritating slowness. ‘You came with me, when we stole those things, you knew what we were doing.’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t know it would mean this. I didn’t know then that you’d murdered him.’

  ‘I didn’t kill anyone, do you hear.’ Ella’s hand shot out and slapped Sadie hard across the face. Sadie did not flinch, though the blow made her cheek sting.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ she retorted. ‘I would never have thought that my own sister would lock me in a room whilst she went out whoring every day, but look at what you’ve come to.’

  ‘You cat. You know that’s not true.’

  ‘Widow Gowper thinks it is.’ Sadie knew it was nonsense, but she wanted to hurt Ella back.

  ‘That old witch. How are we supposed to eat if I don’t work? I have to work at the Lily. It’s not my fault you look the way you do. You could cover it up, use the cream I bought you.’

  ‘Get off to your precious Lily then.’

  Ella did not reply.

  ‘Go on. You make me sick. You dragged me here, and now you’re going to leave me flat. So bloody get on with it. Get to your fancy-man at Whitgift’s, I’m not going to stand in your way. I can do without you, so help me I can.’ Sadie picked up Ella’s cloak and hurled it at her. ‘Get out, now. And don’t come back either.’

  Ella bent over stiffly and retrieved the wrap from the floor. ‘All right. If you’re set on being like that, I’m going. I’ll come see you every day, I promise. You’ll need me to fetch for you, get the water, buy food. If you won’t cover your face I can’t let you go out, you know I can’t.’

  ‘What?’ Sadie struggled to grasp the implications of Ella’s words. ‘Wait a minute, you’re not going to lock me in again—’

  ‘It’ll only be for a few weeks. Just until they stop looking for you and it’s safe for you to go out.’ Ella was shouldering her cloak and preparing to leave.

  Sadie’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. ‘No. Don’t leave me locked up like a dog. Don’t go, Ella. I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry. You’re all I’ve got left. Don’t leave me here. You promised we’d stick together. Please don’t go.’

  ‘Then why won’t you wear the bloody cream? Don’t tell me it’s because of that stuff I bought in Netherbarrow. That was years ago. You can’t still be blaming me for that now.’

  Sadie looked at her. A great sob arose in her throat. Tears began to pour down her face. She couldn’t answer.

  ‘Well, what is it? I don’t think it’s the cream you’re afraid of. It’s life, that’s what it is. You’re afraid of anything good happening. And you hate it if anything good happens to me.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Sadie said, ‘you know that’s not true,’ but even as she said it, Ella swept up the empty basket and stepped outside the door.

  ‘No, Ella!’

  ‘Well, I’m taking whatever Whitgift’s offering. I’ll not let you hold me back. I’ll be back tomorrow to bring provisions.’

  ‘Where are you going? No, Ella, I’ll stay inside I promise, please—’

  Even as Sadie said the words the key was turning in the padlock, and Ella was gone.

  Chapter 26

  To Jay’s great relief Foxy and Lutch had delivered Allsop’s notebook as they had agreed. ‘We didn’t dare take on a reader,’ Foxy had said scowling, ‘in case he couldn’t be trusted. Better the Devil you know.’ After a little haggling and parting with a larger sum than he had deemed proper, Jay now had the notebook in his possession. He banked up the fire in his chambers and settled down to read it.

  B
y the time he had read the first close-packed page he knew why Allsop was so desperate to get the book back. Each page was dated, and each page detailed in exhaustive particulars Allsop’s encounters with the filthy doxies from the gin houses of Blackfriars. Jay pored over the document, turning the pages in growing disbelief. It was all here – how Allsop had bribed the gaoler of Newgate to supply him with brutish condemned women for a fee, until the gaoler was replaced with someone younger and, it seemed, less corrupt. How he was bereft of the wild company he sought until striking a bargain with one Josiah Whitgift, described to Jay’s intense annoyance as a rogueish dandyprat, who puffs himself up beyond his station. It told how Jay’s men supplied him with rough-hand whores from the stews of Southwark, and what was more, it showed in figures how much Allsop had won and lost at cards, and described Jay’s loans as extortionate. The blaggard has me by the hamstrings, Jay read.

  Jay closed the book with a snap. There was enough knowledge in here to hang him three times over. He’d have to put the screws on Allsop, make sure he did not sing. But it was awkward. It would need delicate handling. Allsop might turn the tables on him, was not beyond a bit of blackmail himself if he was in a tight corner. Jay stood up and paced up and down the narrow space in the room, stooping to avoid the eaves, mulling over what to do next.

  Should he burn it? Well, it was safest that way, but then again, there was knowledge in here could be used to sink more than one ship. That gaoler, for instance. What fine gold or plate might he have in his house? And who knows what other gentlemen may be mentioned therein? Then he smiled. Of course – he could take out the pages that referred to him – or better still, pay Togsy the forger to set it right.

  As for Allsop, Foxy and Lutch had broken into his house like he had asked. He had to pay the pair a sweetener to extract the information, but eventually they let drop that Allsop had an extensive collection of wrought silver, enough fancy swords and daggers in a purpose-built armoury chest to start a rebellion and, what was more, a collection of fine paintings including some twenty miniatures painted on glass. And yet that coxcomb Allsop had been mealy-mouthed about paying back the interest on his loan.

  Foxy had said the miniatures were laid out on top of the French writing desk in Allsop’s private chamber. Jay’s fingers had begun to itch as soon as these were mentioned. He owned many fine collections, but his favourite items were always the small things that could be squirrelled away in a drawer, away from all prying eyes. Jay unlocked the Chinese cabinet on his desk and slid the diary inside. He sat for a moment before turning the key. He could not resist those miniatures. He would take Lutch for backup, and if Allsop would not play, well, there was always the cane.

  After reading the diary, he had sent a runner the next day to tell Allsop he would be calling, and at nine in the evening he was admitted by a bland-faced manservant into Allsop’s newly built house in Whitehall. He had detailed Lutch to wait for him with the coachman outside, and to come in if he had not reappeared by the time the clock struck the half-hour.

  ‘You have my notebook?’ Allsop was awaiting him in the overstuffed hall, a look of nervous expectation on his jowly face.

  ‘Yes.’ Jay patted his waistcoat.

  ‘Are you a lettered man, Mr Whitgift?’

  ‘If you mean have I read it, then yes, of course I have. It is best to know exactly what I am dealing with. So yes, even a dandyprat such as I can understand its implications.’ He raised his eyebrow at Allsop, who visibly paled. ‘Now, send your manservant away.’

  ‘Don’t try any funny business with me, Whitgift.’

  ‘I’m doing no deals unless he leaves.’ Jay wanted no witnesses to this particular conversation.

  Allsop thought a moment, then nodded to the manservant. ‘Wait below.’ He kept himself close to the door, Jay noticed, and his face was very pink. He must be rattled.

  ‘You will keep it to yourself, won’t you, Whitgift, once we have agreed a fee?’

  ‘That depends on the fee,’ Jay said, walking through to the drawing room and sitting himself nonchalantly on one of Allsop’s mahogany chairs. He crossed one long slim leg over the other.

  Allsop was sweating. ‘What figure did you have in mind?’

  ‘Well, as I said, ten pounds. That seems a fair price, as I went to considerable trouble to locate it for you.’ Allsop was about to protest, but then sat down heavily, pinching his fleshy eyebrows between finger and thumb. Jay continued, ‘But then, I had not read it. Now I find there is still the matter of my discretion. It is of value, is it not?’

  ‘You mean I must pay you to keep quiet?’

  ‘I prefer to think you might wish to offer me a gift. You know I am a connoisseur of fine painting, Mr Allsop. Particularly miniatures. Have you anything like that?’

  ‘You devil. How did you know?’

  ‘I have my informants. It is my business to know.’ He leaned back comfortably. ‘I believe the miniatures are on your French escritoire across the hall.’

  Allsop blanched. He rubbed his face, confused. In that moment Jay knew it would be all right. He had been right to get the knowledge about Allsop’s house. Now he had the upper hand, Allsop was on the back foot and both men knew it. His puzzled face showed he was trying to work out how Jay could possibly know the details of the inside of his house.

  ‘I’ll have to think about it. Those miniatures have been in my family for generations. Give me a few minutes to fetch your fee. I’ll be back.’

  ‘Oh, and by the way,’ Jay said, ‘my men are just outside. So I wouldn’t try to go anywhere if I were you.’

  Allsop cast his eye out of the window, and Jay saw the flicker when he caught sight of Lutch.

  ‘Ask your manservant to fetch your purse.’

  Allsop poked his head into the hall and gave instructions.

  ‘I’ll help myself to a drink then, as you did not offer,’ Jay said. He took off his open cloak and muffler and strolled over to the glass decanter to pour a draught of port wine. He held up the glass to look at its chased stem before sitting back down and taking a large swig.

  Allsop stood awkwardly by the door until the servant returned. When the servant had gone Jay put down the glass to take the leather bag Allsop offered him. Allsop stepped away from him as if he might burn his fingers. Jay tightened the drawstrings and tucked it away.

  ‘Aren’t you going to count it?’

  ‘No, we made a gentleman’s agreement. You know better than to gull me. I trust you know what’s good for you.’

  ‘My notebook, then.’ Allsop held out his hand.

  ‘In a moment,’ said Jay, patting the bulge in his waistcoat pocket. ‘Now, shall we take a look at your miniatures?’

  ‘I don’t see why it’s of interest. It’s not a very good collection, not valuable – just a few trinkets, mostly from my father.’

  ‘I’d still like to take a look, I have a few myself.’

  Allsop frowned. ‘This way then, but I’ve told you, they only have sentimental value. Family portraits.’ He went ahead of him into a smaller, well-furnished chamber; it was hung with green moiré paper, with a window, not yet shuttered, looking onto the street. The fire blazed under a stone mantel. Jay glanced outside again to see the solid-hewn figure of Lutch still stamping his feet on the hard-packed snow and rubbing the horse’s nose. Jay smiled. Seeing his accomplice always gave him confidence.

  Turning to Allsop, who was fidgeting with discomfort, he said, ‘It’s not the value, though, that interests me, but their beauty, don’t you think? Some things just set up a flutter in here –’ he pointed to his chest. ‘They can be worthless, but the sight of them still makes me long for them.’

  Allsop did not reply. They had stopped in front of a table with brass claw-and-ball feet. On the inlaid surface lay about twenty portraits, each no bigger than a pennyweight. The colours glowed through the domed surfaces of the glass.

  ‘Take this one,’ Jay said. ‘This portrait is particularly appealing, with the embroidere
d ruff. Look at the quality of those brushstrokes, sharp as needles.’

  Allsop grunted. Jay held up another and grimaced. ‘Now this is valuable. But ugly. I won’t have ugliness in my personal chambers. My father will deal in anything, as long as it’s worth a bit. But I like to think I have taste,’ Jay said. ‘Can you bring me more light?’

  Allsop reluctantly brought over a branched chandelier and lit it. The pinpoints of light fell on the domed glass surfaces. Jay smiled. Good, Allsop had fallen to doing his bidding like a lapdog. Jay homed his gaze on each painting in turn, while Allsop hovered, his hands pressed together.

  ‘I’ll take this one, and this one too with the pretty lady in ermine. It’s by the great Cooper, if I’m not mistaken.’

  ‘One alone would serve my dues, surely?’

  ‘I thought you said the miniatures were of little value?’ Jay smiled.

  ‘What about taking this one instead?’ Allsop picked up a larger one in a brass frame. ‘It’s a portrait of the Duchess of Albemarle, my father thought her a great beauty.’

  ‘Really? She looks a little homely to me. But then I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder. No, I’ll take those two and these ones.’ He pointed to four more.

  ‘Just a minute, Whitgift, those are the best in the collection, I’ll have nothing left.’

  ‘I can see we both appreciate fine things. But if you give me all six you can be assured that my lips will be forever sealed. The journal was most illuminating. Your financial affairs are fascinating, not to mention your little arrangement with Newgate Gaol.’

  ‘Four, Whitgift. Four is surely enough.’

  ‘With four or five, well, you may hear a few rumours. Nothing definite, mind, but rumours.’

  ‘You dog.’ Allsop turned away, as if to wash his hands of the whole business. ‘Take the six,’ he said tersely, with his back turned. ‘And then, do I have your word?’

  ‘My word as a gentleman. And then there will only be the original loan owing. Thirty pounds, was it not? Let’s shake hands on it.’ He offered Allsop his hand, and Allsop’s damp white palm enclosed his briefly for a fraction of a second before falling away.