A Collar of Jewels

by Pamela Pope

  His absence made her think of Max, something she tried never to do, and she prayed that this wasn’t a repeat of what had happened at the dockside in Southampton. It wasn’t the same, of course, because she had no emotional ties with Oliver Devlin, but over the weeks his friendship had been invaluable and the debt she owed him was more than monetary. The only consolation stemming from the amount she and Grandfather Cromer owed him financially was that if he wanted repayment, he wouldn’t abandon them. He was under no obligation to tell her where he was going, but it surprised her how much she wished to be taken into his confidence.

  Ellie took William out regularly in the perambulator Oliver had bought for him, but she rarely left Grandfather Cromer for long. He was recovering well from his addiction to alcohol, but there was no knowing when he might lapse. And whenever she was away from the house he sulked.

  ‘What am I supposed to do in this rat-hole?’ he would ask testily. ‘Ain’t room to move.’

  ‘Be thankful you’re not in the workhouse,’ she admonished him. ‘If you want some exercise, come out with me and William.’

  ‘In Clerkenwell? No — it stinks.’

  She didn’t like the place much herself, but there were far worse parts of London. Mainly she disliked it because it was a community where strangers were not welcome, and she distrusted the people with their Cockney dialect that she couldn’t understand.

  The tall house Oliver had found for them was not far from St John’s Gate. It belonged to a watchmaker who lived like a recluse in one room at the back of his shop and was willing to rent out the rest of the building for a reasonable sum. The furnishing was sparse, the outlook depressing, but at least they had a roof over their heads for the time being. Sadly they’d had to dispense with the services of Mr Frobisher, but there was a room for Mrs Hovringham, who still cooked and cleaned. When he was there, Oliver occupied a garret which was cold and cramped, but he insisted it was all he needed. This sacrifice added to Ellie’s guilt. They had become too dependent on him and she didn’t know how to alter the situation while Grandfather Cromer insisted on keeping his son Julian in ignorance. It was too early yet to go against his wishes.

  They had only been in the new accommodation two days when Oliver had left.

  ‘I’ve business to attend to, mavourneen,’ he’d said. ‘It’ll only take the one day, then I’ll be back.’

  And here it was, nearly a week later.

  As Ellie pushed the perambulator along Clerkenwell Green, she admitted to herself that she was frightened. There would soon be another week’s rent to pay, but she had no money with which to do it. The nightmare was starting all over again.

  ‘Your Uncle Oliver can’t be as bad as your father, William, can he?’ she said to the baby, who gazed back at her with eyes as blue as the fine autumn sky. His likeness to Max, except for the colour of his eyes, was sometimes so disturbing she wanted to cry. ‘There can’t be two men who would treat me so despicably.’

  She remembered that on the day Max had left her, Oliver had been at the docks intending to return to America on the very same ship himself. According to him he’d said, ‘What’s another few days to me?’ But he hadn’t bargained for Grandfather Cromer’s unexpected condition delaying him even further. The few days had become weeks, but surely he wouldn’t have bought another ticket and left the country without telling her … The mere thought made Ellie go cold.

  Mrs Hovringham was preparing dinner when she got back.

  ‘There are times when I think Sir Robert was easier to live with when he depended on the bottle,’ she grumbled. ‘He won’t eat stewed beef now. He wants pheasant, if you please.’

  ‘Stick a feather in the beef and tell him to use his imagination,’ said Ellie. ‘He’s got to make do like the rest of us.’

  ‘Oh, and Mr Devlin’s back. He came just after you went out and he’s been up with Sir Robert ever since, talking private.’

  Relief swamped Ellie. She dumped William in the poor woman’s arms, lifted her skirt and ran up the stairs to the living room with tears streaming down her cheeks. The door was shut but she burst in, breathless.

  ‘Oliver, I really thought you were on your way back to America,’ she cried. The two men sat at the table studying papers, their chairs close, heads almost touching, but Oliver got up as soon as she entered and she ran into his arms. ‘I’m so pleased you’re back.’

  His arms closed round her, holding her imprisoned. It was the first time she’d been so close to a man since Max had left, and elation turned to panic as she freed herself.

  ‘I’ve some good news, mavourneen,’ said Oliver. ‘And I’ve not wasted my time away from you.’ He led her to the table.

  ‘He’s a man after my own heart, this one,’ nodded Grandfather, making room for her.

  Oliver pressed her into the chair he had vacated. ‘I’ve been to Southampton …’

  ‘Oliver, you’d no right!’

  ‘I’d every right to look after me own interests, so I had, and that meant enlightening your uncle as to his responsibilities. He has a fine business, and an extravagant wife. Expensive tastes himself too, begorrah, and they’ve been leading him into difficulties.’

  ‘So he can’t help us.’

  The smile on Oliver’s thin lips was puckish. He seemed very pleased with himself, and he crouched beside the chair so that he could look into her eyes.

  ‘How would you fancy seeing me a director of Court Carriages, Ellie?’

  ‘You’re talking in riddles.’

  ‘I’ve bought shares in the business. All of forty per cent, would you believe. Sure and that entitles me to a large say in the running of the company.’

  He was going too fast for her. It was impossible that Julian Cromer would allow a stranger to buy up more than a third of his business in such a short time. He surely couldn’t be that desperate.

  ‘We’re moving to Southampton,’ Grandfather said. ‘Can’t say I’ll enjoy the provinces, but anywhere’s better than this.’

  ‘No, I won’t go to Southampton.’ Ellie was horrified. She never wanted to see the place again.

  ‘We need to be where our livelihood is,’ said Oliver firmly.

  ‘Yours, not ours.’

  ‘I made a stipulation that you are to be involved in the business. A house belonging to Julian Cromer is to be made over to me, for Sir Robert’s use and yours. You’ll have no more worries, so you won’t.’

  This was quite unbelievable. Oliver Devlin, who had no real connection with them, was suddenly taking their future into his hands, and Ellie shivered. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate him. What she feared was the hold he was gaining.

  ‘In what way could I possibly be involved?’ she asked. Her tone was sharp. ‘And I don’t understand how Uncle Julian could have let you buy up so many shares.’

  ‘Twenty-five per cent, he offered. The rest I’ve secured through a solicitor from shareholders who were happy to get rid of them. The company’s ailing badly, Ellie. It needs new blood.’

  ‘But why should I have anything to do with it?’

  ‘Because you are Conrad Harvey’s daughter, and you told me once that he said you had a very good head for business.’

  ‘He’s right, girl,’ urged Grandfather. ‘Accept the challenge. You’re capable enough.’

  There was very little else she could do. If she refused, Oliver might well withdraw his support — and then where would they be? But it was not simply a matter of agreeing; there were a number of important issues at stake. After a lot of further discussion she made up her mind.

  ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘It’s true I learnt a lot from Papa, and I know what makes or breaks a company. But I won’t consider anything unless I have a salary which will allow me to pay rent for the house so that I can support William and Grandfather myself.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘And where will you be living?’

  ‘That, mavourneen, I haven’
t yet decided,’ said Oliver.

  *

  The move to Southampton took place two weeks before Christmas. It was easy, as there was scarcely anything to pack, Sir Robert having no possessions left. Ellie’s portmanteau and boxes were pressed into holding her grandfather’s clothes as well as her own and William’s, and Mrs Hovringham had managed to salvage her favourite cooking utensils which were packed and sent on separately. Oliver had escorted the housekeeper to the new home a few days earlier to prepare it, and had stayed on himself.

  The train took them to Southampton West Station. Grandfather Cromer weathered the journey well, though he objected to travelling second class. To Ellie’s embarrassment he had insisted on buying a ‘secret travelling lavatory’ at Waterloo, even though they were only to be on the train for two hours, and she hoped no one else in the railcar was aware of the strange rubber appliance strapped to his leg.

  A carriage had been sent to meet them on arrival and they were driven to Julian Cromer’s residence in an outlying district of the city. It was in a leafy lane called Lances Hill and a toll for the vehicle had to be paid before they reached Fortune Cottage, which was nothing like any cottage Ellie had ever pictured. Luxury was evident from the first glimpse.

  ‘So this is where my son hoards my treasures,’ said Grandfather. Julian walked across the drive to meet them. ‘Don’t exert yourself, boy! Why weren’t you at the station?’

  ‘Father, it’s good to see you.’

  ‘The feeling isn’t mutual.’

  Grandfather Cromer allowed the coachman to help him down, and Ellie moved forward from the protection of the hood to see her uncle for the first time. She was quite unprepared for the impact he made. She had expected him to resemble her mother, but Julian was so fair it was hard to believe they belonged to the same family. She had also forgotten that he was much younger than Sibylla and would be no more than thirty-five.

  It was obvious that he, too, was surprised. Ellie had travelled in a gown of maroon water-marked taffeta, the dark colour relieved at her throat by cream silk ruffles which were flattering to her complexion, and her wine-coloured hat supported a bunch of cherries on the narrow brim where it tilted over her left eyebrow. Julian blinked his eyes rapidly when he saw her, and his mouth opened slightly before he uttered a word.

  ‘You must be Elena,’ he said. His voice was smooth and light, and pleasant on the ear. ‘How could I have neglected you all these weeks?’

  ‘I’ll forgive you if you’ll be so kind as to help with William,’ she answered, holding out the sleeping child for him to take so that she could alight herself.

  The move disturbed William and he started to cry the moment he was in Julian’s arms. The noise brought two children, a boy and a girl, from the house like eager puppies, but their enthusiasm to greet the new arrivals was cut short by an authoritative command from a woman at an upstairs window.

  ‘Children, behave in a proper manner, if you please!’

  ‘Their nurse is rather strict,’ Julian said apologetically. ‘Francis, Charlotte, you may greet your American cousins indoors when I’ve introduced them to your mama.’

  Millicent Cromer was a small woman, but what she lacked in stature she made up for in presence. She was cool but gracious when introduced to her niece by marriage, and practically ignored her father-in-law.

  ‘You’d think the cow might make an effort,’ Grandfather muttered, and was about to say more until silenced by Ellie’s scandalised glance.

  ‘We’ll take tea in the drawing room,’ Millicent said.

  ‘Tea! Is that all you’re going to give us after the journey we’ve endured?’

  ‘Tea will be very welcome,’ said Ellie.

  Millicent’s clothes were as fine as anything that could be bought in London, the bead embroidery on her pink bodice probably having cost as much as Ellie’s entire outfit, but the colour didn’t suit her. She had the type of brown hair which went with sallow skin, and she should have worn brighter tones to lift the yellowish pallor. Her fingers were heavy with rings, her ears studded with diamonds. Clearly she had dressed to impress her visitors, but Ellie’s reaction was to make a mental note of the expense involved in her aunt’s adornment, and she resolved to question it as soon as she had some say in the running of the financially-ailing Court Carriage Works.

  The children, who were aged seven and five, were given a few minutes in which to unleash their excitement and bombard their Cousin Ellie with questions, then they were taken off by the nurse, who also took charge of William.

  A parlourmaid appeared with a trolley laden with silver and fine porcelain which overshadowed the offering of tiny iced cakes. The teapot fitted a description Mama had given of one used in her childhood, and was not the only recognisable object in a room rich in paintings and priceless works of art.

  The scene of upper-class elegance washed over Ellie as if it had no substance. She sipped tea, delicately ate a cake, and took part in polite conversation, but a strange prickling sensation affected her skin like a multitude of ants on the march. Her grip on a rose-patterned plate tightened in an effort to stop her hands trembling, and the crumbs of cake were dry in her throat. These curious feelings were due to a vibrant awareness of Julian Cromer’s eyes fixed upon her. She felt as if a snake was uncoiling, swaying, hypnotising her, and there was nothing she could do to keep it from striking; there was nothing she particularly wanted to do. No previous experience had quite prepared her for this, and she foolishly allowed a purely physical attraction to take hold.

  She kept her own eyes downcast as much as she could, but her normally strong willpower was insufficient to resist an overwhelming urge to meet her uncle’s gaze. And each time she did so, she felt as if an invisible force was propelling her towards something new and frightening, something she must take all steps to avoid if her life was to remain bearable.

  Thirteen

  Ellie now resided in a house in The Polygon with Grandfather, William, and Mrs Hovringham. Grandfather Cromer approved of the air of gentility. The sea could be seen from the second-floor windows, the drawing room on the first floor opened out onto a narrow, iron-railinged balcony, and carriages passed frequently along the road curved round the attractive buildings.

  It had been decided that a small staff was necessary, so a parlourmaid and scullerymaid were employed to help Mrs Hovringham who still did the cooking. A nurse for William was the next necessity when Ellie became actively involved with the company, which was to pay for such luxuries.

  Oliver Devlin took permanent rooms in a nearby hotel.

  ‘It wouldn’t be seemly for us to live in the same house,’ he said, when Ellie questioned the expense. ‘Though there wouldn’t be any impropriety, of course, unless …’

  He didn’t finish the sentence, and the incident left Ellie feeling uneasy. She didn’t press him again to share the house.

  Her first Christmas Day in England was spent with the Cromers at Fortune Cottage, at Julian’s insistence. Ellie would have preferred to stay at home with only Grandfather and William, but Oliver Was all for forging a stronger link with the family now that they shared a common interest, and he persuaded her to overlook any past grievances. He himself was not invited, but seemed content. Julian made no secret of his dislike of the man who had so underhandedly acquired shares in his company, and even at work there was little harmony between them. Each took responsibility for different sections, an arrangement which suited both.

  The season of goodwill passed without incident, with the children given precedence, and William, at nine months, old enough to enjoy all the attention from his older cousins. Only Ellie’s acute awareness of Julian and the certainty of her attraction for him, caused inner turmoil, but that was successfully hidden. She refused to give any importance to the traitorous stirring in her body whenever he was near. It wasn’t as if she even liked him! On the few occasions they’d conversed at any length she had found him pompous and unreasonable, and had com
e away convinced that the effect he had on her was revulsion. He was cold, calculating, and dangerous.

  By the following spring, Ellie had regained her self-confidence. Winter evenings spent with Grandfather Cromer had become history lessons in the background to the British railway system, and she had absorbed every detail avidly. At first he had reminisced about his own success, in particular his most important achievement, the construction of the line from London to Brayminster. This alone had given employment to over 2000 navvies, and was also considered a major engineeing feat, since it spanned a gorge in the Mendips which the experts had said was impossible. He knew the history of nearly every line in the country, and his contract experiences gave Ellie knowledge of gauges, locomotive power, speed and comfort — in fact, everything she needed to know to enable her to speak with authority.

  ‘Ain’t no good though, less you know about money too,’ Grandfather cautioned. Her enthusiasm was contagious and he had benefited from it. The gaunt features had filled out and there was evidence of the handsome man he had been before alcohol had taken its toll. ‘Julian only knows how to spend it. You have to know how to make it, girl, else you’ll go under with him. That’s what’ll happen to Court Carriages, if you and Oliver can’t use your influence.’

  Oliver was turning out to be surprisingly businesslike. Ellie had been afraid that his inexperience might mean he had invested his mother’s money unwisely, the shares having been bought so hastily, but her brother-in-law was no fool. He had put his own ideas before the Board at the first opportunity, with the result that output had increased over the first two months of the new year. Having learnt from George Pullman the importance of good working conditions, he had justified the expense of a recreation room for the men, better ventilation, and a bonus scheme to encourage more initiative.

  Ellie was given an honourary seat on the Board, at Oliver’s instigation, and her first contribution to the financial recovery of the Court Carriage Works was daring. She attacked what she saw as the biggest flaw in the company — the extravagant décor in the main offices. A meeting between Julian, Grandfather Cromer, Oliver and herself was called before Easter. The venue was Oliver’s office, a plainly furnished room with a plan of the Works on the wall, an oak desk, upright chairs and good drawer space.