by Tia Siren
Emily looked around her. There were about ten tables in the room, and the six women she had arrived with all had a seat. A whistle blew from somewhere, and the barred door in the corner opened. The first man to come through Emily did not like the look of. When her father came through the door, she stood up to greet him and was instantly shocked. When he'd been sentenced for crimes of a financial nature three months earlier, he'd been a tall man with blonde hair and a muscular physique. Now he stooped, and his face was dirty. His hair looked as if it hadn't been washed for as long as he'd been in the terrible place.
''Father, oh father,'' Emily cried as she held her arms out.
''Sit down, Miss,'' the warder shouted from his seat next to the door.
''You look so tired. Are you alright?'' she asked.
Her father looked at her blue eyes and beautiful face and smiled. Emily gasped when she noticed he had a tooth missing. ''I'm as well as can be expected, my dear.
''It's a horrible place. I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier, it is so difficult to get here, the coach is always full. I tried and tried but....'' she felt tears coming but stopped herself. She had to be strong for him.
''Don't upset yourself. You are my darling daughter, and it pains me more than anything else to see you upset.'' He took her hands in his. The warder stood up and walked over to them. When he was confident Emily was not passing her father anything sinister, he went away again. ''Are you happy living with your cousins?''
''I would be happier living with you and ma'ma,'' Emily said as she looked at his long finger nails.
''Of course, my dear. But we can't go back. When I close my eyes in the evening, your mother talks to me. She tells me to get out of here safely and to look after you. I miss your mother terribly but she's in heaven now, and we can't bring her back.''
''I wish we could,'' Emily said dejectedly. ''I feel so alone without you and her. It was so lovely when we lived in Kingston, in our house with the garden and the river. Do you remember the tree father?'' her face lit up momentarily. ''You made me a house in the tree, and we sometimes sat up there and drank tea.''
Her father nodded and smiled again. ''Listen to me Emily,'' his grip increased on her hand as if that would make her listen more closely. ''You will be safe at your cousins. Aunt Beatrice, Helen, and James are good people. They will look after you, and help you over the next five years until I get out of here. Who knows, you may even find a husband in that time,'' he said trying to lighten the mood.
Emily wanted to fall in love and be as happy as her parents had been. She'd seen how beautiful their love for one another was. Emily suddenly thought about her mother and how awful it had been when she'd died. Her mother had been the cornerstone of the family. Her father had owned a very successful building company, and he'd been well respected in London. His services had been in demand by the rich and famous, and at some point, he became so busy he'd employed a firm of accountants to deal with his finances. The family were suddenly rich and had moved into a large house on the Thames, in Kingston, a well-to-do suburb of London. Despite taking advice as to the reputation of the firm of accountants and it's owner, he found himself bereft of funds very soon afterwards. When he couldn't pay his bills, he was arrested for non-payment of tax and sentenced to five years in prison.
''I've brought you some apples, bread, and butter,'' Emily said lifting the bag onto the table. The warder came across and looked.
When it was time to go, Emily clung to her father and had to be pulled away from him. When she was outside in the fresh air, she vomited. ''Don't worry about it, young lady, it gets us all like that the first time,'' a fat lady with a dirty coat said.
*****
''Emily, Emily,'' Helen shrieked as she bounced into Emily's bedroom. Emily was lying under the covers thinking about her father and the awful place he was in. ''We're going to a party, look.'' Helen looked at the bed and saw Emily's face appear.
''That will be nice,'' she said in a melancholy tone'' She hadn't slept and she had dark rings under her eyes.
''Emily, I'm going to take you in hand. It's no good, I can't stand by and watch you torture yourself anymore. Now sit up and listen to me.''
Helen was nineteen and full of life. She'd had a privileged upbringing in a large house, with servants and acres of garden to play in. Her mother Beatrice, Emily's mother's sister, had married a stock broker who'd died at a young age and left her a fortune. She'd never remarried and brought Helen and James up by herself. ''We've been invited to a party by Roger Carruthers, it's his twenty-first birthday. Do you know the Carruthers family?''
''No, I don't,'' Emily said looking at the gold colored card in Helen's hand.
''Well, they are very rich, and all of society will be there. I know you are feeling melancholy about your father, but you can't do anything about the situation. You need to start eating more, you're so thin. We'll find you a beautiful dress and a lovely pair of shoes, and we'll go to the party and enjoy ourselves.''
Enough Emily told herself. Helen was right, she couldn't change the situation, so she would begin to live her life. ''Do you have a dress I can borrow? All my dresses went into the auction when they sold our house.''
''We will do better than that. I'll ask mother if we can go shopping. We'll both buy a new dress and new shoes and new everything,'' Helen threw her hands into the air in a gesture of jubilation. Emily laughed, Helen's mood was infectious.
Helen somehow managed to convince her mother that she and Emily desperately needed a new dress each, and new shoes, and if mother could possibly afford it, new shawls. Aunt Beatrice was concerned about Emily and thought it would do her good to go out into town and be treated. Helen jumped up and down when he mother nodded in agreement. ''Can we go today mother, please?'' she begged.
That evening, Emily and Helen stood in Emily's room and looked at the spread of new clothes in front of them. Two dresses, two pairs of shoes and two magnificent shawls. ''Come on, let's dress up,'' Helen suggested. When Emily nodded, she rang for her lady's maid. When Jane arrived, she was confronted by two giggly girls standing in their undergarments. Jane was twenty-three and had been with the family for two years. She was from Yorkshire, a no-nonsense woman with a dry sense of humor.
''Right, Miss Helen, stop dancing around and stand still,'' she said as she put the dress over Helen's head. It was a navy blue and made of satin. Helen raised her arms, and it fell down over her. ''Mrs Jones really has a good eye, doesn't she,'' Helen said of the lady who owned the dress shop in town.
''She does. You look lovely,'' Emily said looking at the way the dress hugged Helen's large cleavage. Jane fastened the back of the dress, and Helen did some twirls in front of the mirror.
Jane turned her attention to Emily whose dress was red. Jane liked Emily. She was a sensible woman who had the same kind of humor as she did. Unlike Helen, who Jane found shallow and excitable, Emily had depth to her character. She was intelligent, well read and interested in more than parties. Whenever Jane helped Emily to dress, she was impressed when Emily talked about the situation in the Crimea and the plight of the poor. Jane also liked dressing Emily for another reason. Emily was a beautiful woman with a perfect figure, and she carried her clothes so elegantly. Helen was stocky, but Emily was tall and slender, with a decent bust and curvaceous hips.
Helen looked on jealously as Jane fastened the back of Emily's dress and stood away to look at her. ''You look very elegant, indeed,'' Jane said. Helen wondered why she hadn't said that about her. Emily looked in the mirror and gasped. The dress flowed over her beautiful body touching all the places gentlemen so admired. Emily liked the color, it was between deep red and maroon. The edging around the puff sleeves was the same color as her eyes, Mediterranean blue.
*****
It was a windy April evening when Helen and Emily set off in the coach to the Carruthers residence. The horses pulling the carriage were restless, and they pulled at a rate the coachman didn't agree with. As he held them on the reigns, the
coach lurched from slow to fast in sequence, throwing Emily and Helen around until they both began to feel travel sick. Helen leaned out of the window and shouted, ''Driver please, we are being thrown around mercilessly, kindly do something about it.''
When they arrived, the two ladies clambered out of the coach, grateful to be on firm ground. Emily looked at the house. It was a large English manor house with a great lawn in front of it. The oak tree in the middle reminded Emily of the tree at their previous home in Kingston. The one her father had made a tree house in. A footman in a wig and breeches accompanied them to the ballroom in a side wing to the house. When they went inside, the party was already underway.
The ballroom was the most magnificent room Emily had ever seen. A highly decorated ceiling held six large chandeliers which she noted were swinging gently back and forth as the warm air rose to them. The dance floor was full of couples dancing in rings around each other. Emily so hoped she'd fill her dance card because she loved dancing. Her mother had taught her all the popular dances, and on the odd occasion she had gone to a ball, she'd received compliment after compliment about her dancing.
''Emily, look.'' Emily followed Helen's outstretched arm.
''Ah, cousin James. He looks very handsome, doesn't he,'' she said.
''No, I am not talking about my brother, I'm talking about the man next to him. Mr. Dirksen. He's so handsome.''
Emily looked at him. Helen was right, he was the most handsome man in the room. Tall, dark and beautifully dressed in a blue tail coat with matching waistcoat and white trousers, he looked so noble.
James saw the two ladies and motioned for them to come over. ''Emily, I don't think you know Mr. Edward Dirksen?''
''No, indeed I do not. My pleasure sir,'' she said curtsying.
Edward took her hand and touched his lips with it. ''The pleasure is mine,'' he said. ''Miss Emily, James has told me a lot about you. He says your dancing is exemplary, would you do me the honor of adding me to your dance card?''
''Yes, sir, it would be a pleasure. I look forward to it.'' She noticed how Edward looked at her. It was the look her mother had told her about. When a man's eyes drop from your eyes to your chest, it's one thing, but when his eyes travel back again you know he is interested in you, she'd always said. And if her mother had known how women looked at men, she would have seen that Emily was more than interested in Mr. Edward Dirksen.
''I am sorry to hear that your mother passed away recently,'' Edward said. Emily dropped her eyes to the floor. ''I see that I have upset you. I only mention it because the same thing happened to me, five months ago.''
Emily looked up at him sympathetically. If he knew how she felt, he would understand why she sometimes didn't want to get out of bed. ''I am sorry to hear that. It is a terrible feeling isn't it?''
''Yes indeed it is. Perhaps I should have expected it at my age.''
''Why, sir?''
''I am twenty-nine, and I suppose the older you get, the more likely it is that your will lose your parents.''
Ten years older than me, she thought. Interesting, why hasn't he got a wife? It isn't because of his looks, perhaps he has been too cautious and prospective wives had become tired of waiting for him. ''I think whenever it happens it is terrible.''
''Let us talk of something more pleasant,'' he said. ''May I tell you how extremely beautiful you are?''
''Thank you, sir. I am pleased you find me so. May I ask what you do for a living?''
''I am a gentleman. I support several good causes but mostly I am involved with a church group which helps people in need.''
''So you are rich,'' she said with a smile.
''Yes I suppose you could say I am. My family owns an estate in Surrey called Cobham Hall. Perhaps you've heard of it?''
''Yes, I have been there. I am sure my father did some building work there. I used to go with him. It was in summer, maybe three years ago.''
''Yes that's it. I think the firm was called Lucas.''
''Then it was my father. I remember your house. Oh, it's very beautiful, and the gardens are fabulous.''
''My mother was the gardener, I'm afraid it doesn't look nearly as pleasant now.''
They danced with each other, and he was very impressed by Emily's ability. She was light and graceful, and the sight of her smiling at him as her breasts wiggled made him feel excited. He already knew he wanted her.
*****
Henry Lucas bit into one of the apples his daughter had brought him. It was the only one he had left, the others had all been stolen, as had the bread and butter. As the sweetness engulfed his palate, he closed his eyes and thought of his wife. When her pretty face rolled across his mind, he cringed at her last words. ''Look after our daughter.'' He hadn't, he was stuck in this place, leaving her to fend for herself.
''Henry Lucas, are you in here?'' a voice shouted from the front of the cell he was sitting in with twelve other men.
He stood up and looked at the shaft of light coming in as the door opened.
''I am, who wants me?''
''Come out here,'' the warder said, the keys on his belt swinging to and fro. Henry stepped out of the cell and fell to the ground as someone hit him on the skull from behind. He groaned and tried to get up, but a boot on his neck held him down.
''You can go now, warden,'' the man said. ''Very kind of you to point him out to me, here's what we agreed.'' He handed the warden some money and the warden left them to it. He'd got his money and didn't care what happened to any of his prisoners. As far as he was concerned they were all criminals and deserved to die.
The man bent down and pulled Henry to his feet. He was a big man, probably a hired thug Henry thought. Henry sank to his knees again after the man hit him with force in the stomach. He groaned, resting on his hands and knees. Not finished yet, the man brought his knee down onto the back of Henry's head, flattening his face against the ground. As Henry looked along the ground, he saw the feet of another man standing in front of him.
''Henry, how nice to see you again. I'm sure you're enjoying His Majesty's hospitality.'' Henry recognized the raspy voice. It belonged to Benjamin Harvie, the man he'd entrusted with the finances of his business before Harvie had robbed him. ''I hear you've been talking about me, to the constabulary. Well, I'm here to tell you to stop.'' Harive nodded to the big man who pulled Henry to his feet once more. He held him by the throat as Harvie continued. ''Stop talking to the constabulary about me or your daughter gets it, do you understand?'' The mention of his daughter drove Henry to kick out at Harvie, earning him a punch in the face from the thug. ''Teach him a proper lesson, then throw him back in the cell,'' Harvie said as he walked away. When the big man threw Henry back into his cell, some of the other prisoners wretched at the sight of him. Only one prisoner helped him, the Reverend Peter Wright.
*****
Having been invited to Cobham Hall, Emily asked Helen to be her chaperon. When their carriage arrived outside the stately home, Edward was waiting to meet them. Emily looked out of the window and instantly recognized the place that she had visited with her father a few years ago.
''Emily, Helen, how nice to see you. Thank you for coming to Cobham Hall.'' He took Emily's hand and held it to his lips. They looked each other in the eyes and smiled, a loving smile. ''Come inside and take tea with me,'' he said.
They drank tea and talked about the weather and other mundane subjects until Edward began to find Helen's presence irritating. He called his sister who Helen knew. ''Helen would you like go into the garden with Mary? It's such a nice day.'' Helen looked at Emily, who nodded her approval.
''Emily,'' he said once Helen and his sister had left. ''How I have longed to see you again. I have thought about nothing else but you since we first met at Carruthers.''
''And I you Edward. I have missed you too.''
He stood up and sat next to her on the sofa. ''I am in love with you Emily.''
Emily pouted at him, and he kissed her. When he pulled back, Emily took hi
s lapel and tugged him towards her again for more. ''And I am in love with you, Edward,'' she whispered.
Edward looked out of the window and saw Helen and his sister setting off on a walk of the grounds. ''Come with me, my dear,'' he said. Emily looked at him quizzically.
''If you want me to follow you to your bedroom, I will only do so if you promise to marry me.''
''I promise, I will marry you, there is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you.''
Emily stood up and followed him upstairs. If Helen came back, she would have to wait for her, she thought. She was good enough to keep her mouth closed and not tell her aunt.
The bedroom Edward took her to wasn't large or overly luxurious, it was intimate. The fire was lit and the afternoon sunlight shone through the window. The bed was a small four-poster covered in white linen. There was room for a small chest of drawers and an easy chair.
''So this is your private retreat,'' Emily said, impressed by the ambiance.
''Yes, I like this room. Most of all I like the bed, it's very comfortable.''
Emily sat on the edge and tested it. ''Indeed, it is, very comfortable.''
He took her hand and pulled her to her feet again. ''I love you, Emily, and I want you.'' They kissed, a passionate kiss that left them both gasping for breath. He stepped back and looked at her. Her blue eyes shone in expectation, and her face was slightly flushed with excitement. He kissed her again, this time, his hands snapping open the buttons on the back of her dress. When he'd finished, he pushed the dress back from her shoulders. Her breasts sprang free, and he bent down and kissed her nipples. Emily held her breath and closed her eyes. What he was doing was making her more excited than she had ever been before. She had on the odd occasion explored her own body, and even brought herself to orgasm, but her climaxes had been devoid of the kind of passion he was creating in her now.
