by Dilly Court
‘Can we not?’ He signalled to the footman, who opened the door and stepped aside. ‘I should never have brought you to this place. I’m taking you home.’
‘But your charity funds …’
‘Bugger the charity.’ He dragged her down the steps to the pavement. Guests were still arriving, and Jared claimed a hansom cab that had just deposited its fare. He handed Clemency into it and leapt in after her. ‘Finsbury Circus, cabby.’
He said little on the way home, and she maintained a tactful silence. It was still early evening when they arrived back at the house.
‘I need a drink,’ Jared said, heading for the stairs. Clemency was about to make for the servants’ quarters when he stopped, looking over his shoulder. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Down where I belong. With my friends and family.’
‘I would appreciate your company in the drawing room.’
‘I’m sure that Isobel would be happy to join you.’
‘Isobel has gone to the theatre with Grandmama, and she will be staying the night in her lodgings in Half Moon Street.’ He held out his hand. ‘Please.’
The air between them was charged with tension. She knew that she ought to refuse, but she was powerless to resist. Moving like a sleepwalker, she laid her hand in his and allowed him to lead her up the staircase to the drawing room. She perched on the edge of the sofa, folding her hands in her lap. The sky was still light, although the sun had gone down, and the shadows were lengthening, giving the room a dreamlike and unreal quality. Jared went to a side table and picked up a decanter. He poured a generous measure of brandy into two glasses. ‘I’m sorry about what happened this evening. I never intended to put you in such a dangerous situation.’ He handed her a drink, and moved away to stand by the fireplace. ‘I had no idea that Marceau would vent his spleen on you.’
‘I’m not afraid of him.’ She took a sip and felt the strong liquor burn her throat. It hit her empty stomach like a fireball. She had not eaten since midday and she realised now that she was extremely hungry. ‘I’m sorry if I spoiled things for you. I know you were desperate to win back your old home.’
‘I am, but not at any price. You do know what Marceau wanted of you?’
She gulped down the rest of the brandy in one swallow. ‘I’m not stupid. Of course I know. He’s a dirty old man. I told you that from the start.’
‘So worldly wise – and yet so innocent.’
‘Innocent? Me?’ For a moment she thought that he was teasing her, but one look at his face convinced her that he was serious, and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She placed the empty glass on a drum table at the side of the sofa, and rose rather unsteadily to her feet. ‘I think I’d better go downstairs and get some supper. I’m starving.’
‘Of course, you must be. I could ring for Augustus and have supper brought up on a tray.’
There was something in his voice, and a look in his eyes, that made her nerves tingle with excitement as well as apprehension. She wanted desperately to stay, but a small voice in her head told her to run. She made a move towards the door. ‘It’s all right. I’ll go.’
Jared tossed his glass into the fireplace, where it smashed in the empty grate. With a swift movement he was at her side. ‘Are you so very hungry?’ He drew her towards him, slowly, inexorably. His eyes held hers and she found that she could not look away. She had been here before, and she knew what would happen if she didn’t break free, but her arms slid around his neck and she closed her eyes. His mouth plundered hers with a fervour that brought an instant response. She parted her lips, drinking in the taste of him, inhaling the scent of him: intoxicated by a sudden and overwhelming desire to abandon all caution. She ran her hands through his hair, murmuring his name as he kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. His hands caressed the swell of her breasts above the décolletage of her evening gown: she was trembling uncontrollably, and her knees gave way beneath her. She was floating on a cloud of sensation, barely conscious of anything but the urgent need for him. Then, to her utter confusion, the kissing stopped. Jared lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. His arms still held her, but she could sense a sudden change in him.
‘This is wrong.’ His voice was choked with emotion. ‘I can’t do this to you, my love.’
‘My love.’ Clemency whispered. ‘You love me, Jared?’
He was holding her so tightly that she was not sure if it was his heart or her own that was pounding so erratically. ‘I didn’t realise it fully until tonight. But I do love you, Clemency.’
‘And I love you too.’ The truth came upon her in a blinding flash. She had loved him from the start: perhaps even from that first moment outside the jeweller’s shop window. She had never wanted a man before, but now she was ready to give herself to him, heart, body and soul. ‘I think I was in love with you from the very beginning, Jared.’
A wry smile curved his lips. ‘And I thought you had a soft spot for that boy in the pub.’
‘I have, but only in the same way I feel about Jack. I only recently found out, but Ned is my half brother.’
‘Thank God for that.’ He traced the outline of her cheek with the tip of his finger. ‘I love you, my darling.’
She slid her hands under the lapels of his evening jacket, closed her eyes and parted her lips, awaiting another earth-shattering kiss. But he merely brushed her forehead with the whisper of a caress. She opened her eyes. ‘What’s the matter? Why have you suddenly gone cold?’
‘I’ve done many things in my life that I’m ashamed of, but I won’t add to them by taking advantage of you.’
‘But I want you to make love to me, Jared. I really do.’
‘And I will, but not here and now. Not like this.’
‘I don’t understand.’ She pulled away from him. ‘You say you love me.’
He made no attempt to touch her. ‘And I do. I care about you too much to have a casual affair with you, Clemency.’
She stared down at the floor, unable to look him in the eye. ‘You’re not making sense.’
He laid his hands on her shoulders. ‘How do you think I would feel if a man took advantage of my sister’s youth and innocence?’
‘That’s different.’
‘No, it’s not. Put it another way, how do you think Jack, or even Ned, would feel if they found out that you and I had become lovers?’
She looked up and met his eyes; there was no doubting the sincerity in them. ‘They wouldn’t like it.’
‘There you have your answer.’ He dropped his hands to his sides. ‘I can’t make you any promises at this moment, my love. But when I’ve settled my business with Marceau, things will be different.’
‘Then we’ll do it together. I’ll help you in any way I can.’
‘No. I should never have introduced you to him in the first place. I allowed my desire for revenge to cloud my better judgement.’ He moved away towards the window, running his hands through his hair. ‘My God, I must have been mad, or wicked, or both, to have exposed you to such a man. You are never to go near him again, do you hear me? Never.’
‘All right, I won’t. But you’ll have to be so careful, Jared. He’s got Hardiman working for him now, and he’s a bad man to cross.’
‘I’ll deal with Hardiman in good time, but until then I want you to stay close to the house. You’re never to go out alone. Do you understand me?’
Clemency drew herself up to her full height; the harsh tone in his voice had spoiled everything. The past, in the form of Marceau and Hardiman, had come between them. ‘I was raised in the streets. I can look after myself.’ She left the room without giving him a chance to redeem himself. He had stirred up feelings and emotions within her that were both exciting and disturbing. He had made her feel like a desirable woman, and then he had treated her like a wayward child. She went to her room, half hoping that he would follow her, but he did not. She closed the door and locked it. She undid the buttons of the elegant gown and let it slide to the floor. She step
ped out of it, leaving it where it had fallen like the skin sloughed off a snake. She was now herself again. She had taken off the costume that made her into a lady – she had been playing a part, just as she had done in the theatre. Take away the satin and lace and she was still Clemency Skinner, the girl from Stew Lane. She had been more than ready to give herself to Jared, and, whatever his reasons, he had rejected the only gift that was hers to give him. She lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling where the pattern of the window frame was etched in long shadows. Jared had sworn that he loved her too much to make her his mistress, and yet he could not bring himself to offer her marriage. He obviously did not care enough for her to bridge the gap in their social standing. Jared Stone had been born a gentleman, and she was the illegitimate daughter of a prostitute and a philandering innkeeper. She closed her eyes to shut out the harsh reality of the cruel world.
She awakened next morning to a room filled with sunshine and the chatter of sparrows outside on the window ledge. She felt a surge of optimism as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Perhaps she had been too hasty in condemning him. She had allowed the intensity of her own feelings to blot out common sense and reason. Jared had only been trying to protect her, and she had run off like a spoilt child who had not had her own way. She would make it right with him at the first opportunity.
Clemency went downstairs filled with good intentions. In the kitchen, Augustus and Ronnie had finished their breakfast, and were getting ready to leave on their mission to find Lucilla. Nancy was sitting at the table drinking tea, and Edith was busy wrapping sandwiches in a piece of butter muslin. She looked up as Clemency entered through the baize door. ‘Hello, love. Did you have a good time last night?’
Clemency felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and then she realised that Ma had meant the dinner at the vintner’s house in Russell Square. ‘Yes, it was fine,’ she said, hoping that no one had noticed her moment of confusion.
But Edith was busy persuading Ronnie to take the sandwiches, even though he said they would probably treat themselves to a pie or some fish and chips. ‘You take care then, Ronnie,’ Edith said, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘And you, Augustus. I hope you find your girl.’
Augustus nodded. ‘I do too, Edie. Come on, Ronnie. Let’s go.’
Ronnie kissed Edith on the cheek. ‘We won’t be too late back, ducks.’
‘You’d better not be,’ Nancy said, scraping butter onto a piece of toast. ‘Edie and I will have enough to do with you both taking the day off.’
Augustus headed out through the door to Jack’s old room, and Ronnie hurried after him.
‘There weren’t no need for that, Nancy,’ Edith said, pulling her mouth down at the corners. ‘You know very well that they did all their chores first thing, and we got a quiet day today with Mr Stone out all day, and Miss Isobel still at her granny’s.’
Clemency went to sit at the table. ‘So he’s out all day is he?’ She looked away as Ma shot her a curious glance.
‘What’s it to you, miss?’
‘Nothing.’ Clemency reached for the teapot and proceeded to fill a cup with the rapidly cooling and stewed brew. ‘Nothing at all.’
Edith frowned. ‘Have you done something to upset him?’
‘No, Ma. Of course not.’
‘Well, I hope you haven’t for all our sakes.’ Edith took off her apron. ‘We’ve got a good home here, Clemmie. We got three square meals a day and a comfy bed to sleep in. I hope you appreciate it, and aren’t hankering after that silly business of singing in the theatre.’
‘No, I never gave it a thought.’
‘You’ve got a chance to be a young lady now. You’ve come up in the world since Miss Isobel saw fit to make you her companion. Ain’t that so, Nancy?’
Nancy made a non-committal noise and shot a warning glance at Clemency, but Clemency was not about to tell Ma that she was still earning her living by dipping pockets, even if it was from toffs who could afford to lose a few bob. So far, it was only Nancy who knew about the way in which she helped Jared supplement his income: they had managed to keep the secret from the others, and Clemency wanted to keep it that way. She stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea. ‘Are you going out then, Ma?’
‘I’m going to visit Hannah, like I said last night.’ Edith hung her apron on a hook by the range. ‘I’ll be back in time to cook the evening meal, so don’t worry about that, Nancy.’
Clemency spent the morning keeping out of Nancy’s way. She had volunteered to sort out the linen cupboard, and when that was done she made an excuse to go upstairs, telling Nancy that she was going to mend a torn flounce on one of Miss Isobel’s petticoats. She desperately needed to speak to Jared. He must have been very angry with her to go off for the day without telling her. She paced the floor in the drawing room, wringing her hands. Where was he when she needed him? He had told her he loved her, hadn’t he? If that were true, then why hadn’t he followed her to her room last night? Or at the very least he could have tried to make his peace with her before he left the house that morning. She had been ready to apologise for her behaviour, and to beg his forgiveness, if necessary. Now she was torn between anxiety and resentment.
When he had not returned by mid-afternoon, Clemency was beginning to imagine all kinds of accidents that could have befallen him. He might have been killed by a runaway horse, or been crushed beneath the wheels of a brewer’s dray. He might have sought out Marceau and challenged him to a duel, or he might have gone looking for Hardiman – Jared could be lying somewhere in a pool of his own blood. She could stand it no longer. Nancy was in a bad mood, and Isobel had not returned from Half Moon Street. Not for the first time, she wished that Jack were here to share her concerns; to give her that funny, crooked smile of his and tell her that everything would come right. But he wasn’t here, and there was no one in whom she could confide. Clemency put on her best hat and her new kid gloves. She checked her purse to see if she had enough money for the cab fare to Carter Street. She had to get out of the house, and it seemed natural to go to the only other family she had ever known. She would go to the Crown and Anchor and make things right with Ned, her half brother.
She went in through the back door of the pub. There was just the chance that Hardiman might be in the bar, or that Ned had not yet come to terms with their new relationship and might not want to see her. She preferred to risk a rebuff from Nell, than an outright snub from Ned. Annie was in the scullery washing pans in the stone sink. She looked up and her eyes widened, then she grinned. ‘Ooer! You got a nerve, I must say.’
‘Mind your own business,’ Clemency snapped. Her nerves were already as taut as the strings on a fiddle and she was in no mood to put up with a daft scullery maid. She brushed past Annie, ignoring her protests, and went into the kitchen. Nell was at the range, stirring a pan that smelled temptingly of mutton stew. She did not look round.
‘If you’ve finished the washing up, Annie, get them spuds peeled.’
‘It’s not Annie. It’s me.’
Nell dropped the spoon into the pan and spun round. ‘Clemency!’
‘Are you still angry? I wouldn’t blame you if you was, only none of this was my fault, and I’m truly sorry about your old man.’
Nell stared at her for a moment and then her sour expression evolved into a reluctant smile. She hurried over to give Clemency a hug. ‘I weren’t never cross with you, love. You wasn’t even born when all of that happened.’
Clemency returned the hug. ‘I thought you hated me, and I couldn’t bear it.’
‘I hated her, for a while anyway. Then when I calmed down a bit, I realised that it was Cyril who was to blame. Your mum was taken in, just the same as me. I expect he’s peppered the whole of the East End with his little bastards by now.’ Nell held her at arm’s length. ‘You look so fine these days. Quite a lady.’
Clemency couldn’t meet her eyes and she looked away, biting her lip. If she knew the truth, she would think she was an abandoned hussy – no be
tter than she should be. She changed the subject. ‘And Ned?’
The question hung in the air and Nell’s silence was an answer in itself. She hurried back to the pan on the range and began stirring its contents. ‘Give him time. He’ll come round.’
‘Can I see him?’
She nodded. ‘Go through, but don’t be surprised if he don’t want to know you.’
Clemency went into the bar. A quick glance told her that Hardiman was not present, but the look on Ned’s face when he saw her was not welcoming.
‘Ned.’ She held out her hand. ‘Can’t we be friends?’
He stared at her upturned palm, frowning. When he looked up at her, his eyes were bleak. ‘It don’t work like that, Clemency.’
‘You’re my brother just as much as Jack is. We’re family whether you like it or not.’
‘Go away, Clem. Go back to your fancy man and leave me and Ma to get on with our lives.’ Ned turned away to serve a man who had walked up to the bar demanding a pint of porter.
Clemency opened her mouth to argue that Jared was nothing to her, but the words stuck in her throat. She knew that Ned would not believe her. He seemed to have known by some sixth sense that she had deep feelings for Jared. She felt her throat constrict with unshed tears, but she was determined not to cry. ‘I’m going. But I want you to know that I still care for you, Ned. Maybe one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me for being your sister.’ She did not wait to see if he was going to answer, and she pushed past him to open the flap in the bar counter. She made her escape through the taproom, half hoping that he would call her back – but he did not. By the time she reached the street outside the Crown and Anchor, her tears were flowing freely. Everything had gone horribly wrong. She walked blindly on, ignoring the curious glances of passers-by. When she had her emotions sufficiently under control, she went in search of a cab to take her home to Finsbury Circus.
She paid off the cabby and ran up the steps to hammer on the door knocker. Perhaps she should have used the servants’ entrance, but she did not stop to think. She was certain that Jared must be home by now and she desperately wanted to see him. She knocked again and yanked the bell pull. She heard heavy footsteps approaching and Nancy opened the door scowling. ‘Oh, it’s you. What’s wrong with the servants’ entrance, or are you too grand for it now?’
