Ragged Rose

by Dilly Court

  ‘Wake up, sleepyhead.’ She was about to go over and give Cora a shake when she realised that the bed had not been slept in, and there was no sign of her sister. Even if Cora had risen early it would have been unlike her to make her bed and tidy the room before going down to breakfast. Rose moved swiftly to the clothes press and looked inside. Her worst fears were realised when she found it empty and Cora’s valise was missing from the top of the cupboard.

  It was only when she looked on the dressing table that she found a note written in Cora’s neat hand.

  Dear Rose

  Don’t be cross with me, but I cannot bear to be parted from Gerard. His parents will never accept me as their daughter-in-law and we are desperate to be together. Don’t worry about me. I will be safe and happy with my darling boy. We are going where no one will find us.

  Forgive me for breaking up the Sunshine Sisters, but I have no choice.

  I will always love you.

  Cora

  Rose sank down on the stool, staring at her reflection in the mirror with unseeing eyes. ‘Oh, Corrie,’ she murmured softly. ‘What have you done?’ It took some moments for the full impact of her sister’s elopement to register and then she leaped to her feet. ‘Where would they go?’ she demanded, gazing at the distraught young woman in the mirror. When nothing came to mind she hurried from the room and went to bang on Polly’s door.

  ‘Aunt Polly, I must speak to you urgently.’

  The door opened and Fancello stood there, tousle-haired and bleary-eyed. His shirt hung open, exposing a tightly laced corset and his trousers were at half-mast, revealing his drawers.

  Rose averted her eyes. ‘I must speak to my aunt,’ she said urgently.

  ‘What is it, Rose?’ Polly demanded sleepily. ‘Can’t it wait?’

  ‘No, Aunt. It’s Cora, she’s eloped with Gerard.’ There was no point trying to break the news gently. Rose took a deep breath. ‘She left a note.’

  ‘Come away from the door, Sandro. You’re only half dressed.’ Polly’s bare feet padded across the carpet and she pushed Fancello aside. ‘Are you certain of this, Rose?’

  Rose handed her the note, and Polly held it at arm’s length, squinting as she made out the words. ‘The silly girl,’ she said, thrusting the crumpled paper into Rose’s hand. ‘Give me time to get dressed and I’ll see you in the parlour.’ She closed the door.

  ‘Where would they have gone?’ Half an hour later Polly sailed into the parlour, fully dressed.

  Rose glanced at the dainty ormolu clock on the mantelshelf. She had been pacing the floor while she waited, trying to think of the answer to just that question. She bit back a sharp retort. ‘I really have no idea.’

  Fancello sidled into the room with a half-eaten slice of toast in his hand. ‘Perhaps they’ve gone to get her father’s blessing.’

  Rose and Polly stared at him in stunned silence. Rose was the first to recover. ‘I’m afraid that’s the last place Cora would go. Papa would be even more outraged than he is already, and Cora is well aware of that. He would send Gerard packing and heaven alone knows what he would say to Corrie.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Polly said slowly. ‘Do you think he would take her to Gretna Green?’

  ‘He might, but we don’t know for certain that he intends to marry her.’ Rose sank down on a chair by the fireplace. ‘I’m barely acquainted with Gerard, but what I saw of his parents makes me think that he would be unwilling to go against them.’

  ‘Cora would be an asset to any family,’ Polly said stoutly. ‘But would that young swell make Cora happy? Personally, I doubt it.’

  Fancello shook his head. ‘It isn’t up to us to make judgements. Who would have thought we would end up together, Paloma? Thirteen years ago it seemed like a wild dream.’

  ‘This isn’t helping,’ Rose said angrily. They did not seem to understand that she had lost her brother, and now she was losing her sister. ‘There must be something we could do.’

  ‘You will be only half of the Sunshine Sister act.’ Fancello took a small comb from his pocket. ‘The manager at the Grecian might object.’ He combed his moustache, curling the ends round the tip of his finger.

  ‘Must you do that now?’ Polly demanded angrily. ‘This is important, Sandro.’

  ‘After the scene last night we might have found ourselves out of a job anyway.’ Rose clutched her throat. The mere thought of the theatre brought back memories of Slattery’s hands around her neck.

  ‘There is something I can do.’ Fancello inspected his reflection in the mirror above the mantelshelf. ‘I will visit the theatre and speak to that person. I will tell him what Slattery did to you. At least I can do something useful.’

  ‘I suppose I could go on without Corrie. We really do need the money.’

  ‘You have a better voice than your sister. You could do it, Rose.’ Polly gave her an encouraging smile. ‘You are so much like I was at your age. Is she not, Sandro?’

  ‘You are the image of Paloma when she was a girl. You would go far as a solo artiste, cara mia. Take it from an old man who knows talent when he sees it. I will go to the theatre right away and prove that Alessandro Fancello is still a man to be reckoned with.’ He bowed out of the room, as if acknowledging a round of applause.

  The moment the door closed, Polly reached for a silver box. She took out a cheroot and struck a match. ‘I don’t normally indulge,’ she said, exhaling a puff of smoke, ‘but it’s too early for a nip of brandy, and my poor nerves are shredded. Your sister has a lot to answer for, Rose. I won’t forgive her for this.’

  ‘I must do something.’ Rose moved to the window and gazed out at the busy street. ‘Of course,’ she said, turning to Polly. ‘Why didn’t I think of it before? If there’s anyone Cora might have spoken to it would be Maisie.’

  ‘Ring the bell and we’ll ask her.’

  ‘No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll speak to her in private.’

  Maisie was reluctant at first, but after some gentle questioning she admitted that she had helped Cora to pack and had smuggled her out of the house through the tradesmen’s entrance. Tommy had also been involved in Cora’s romance, and had acted as go-between, taking messages to Gerard and returning with his responses.

  ‘Then he knows where Mr Barclay lives,’ Rose said eagerly.

  ‘Yes, he does.’ Maisie nodded. ‘I doubt if they’ll be at his lodgings. Miss Cora was scared of what Mr Gerard’s parents would say if they found out, so he wouldn’t take her home.’

  ‘Even so, there might be someone there who knows where they’ve gone.’ Rose clutched Maisie’s hands in hers. ‘You must ask Tommy to give me his address. I’ll go there directly and, who knows, I might be in time to catch up with them before Cora’s reputation is lost for ever.’

  ‘I’m coming with you, miss.’

  ‘There’s no need. Tommy can show me the way.’

  ‘I was a slavey in a big house up West. I know how them toffs carry on, and the young misses would always have their maidservant tagging along when they went out and about. You got to act like you’re one of them or you won’t get nowhere.’

  Rose gazed at her in astonishment. She had always thought of Maisie as the desperate child they had plucked from the brink of suicide, but now she was seeing her in a new light. The girl had grown into a woman, seemingly overnight. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said slowly. ‘I hadn’t thought about it like that.’

  ‘You put on your best bonnet, miss, and I’ll fetch Tommy. We ain’t got no time to lose.’

  Rose went to her room and changed into her Sunday best. She was ready for battle, whether it be with Gerard’s parents or Slattery, it did not matter. She would take them all on in her efforts to save Cora from disgrace and despair.

  The address in Duke Street turned out to be a select lodging house where Gerard had rooms. The landlady might have been a duchess, for all the airs and graces she assumed when the maid showed Rose into her parlour. Maisie had been told to wait
outside the door, although Rose suspected that she would have her ear to the keyhole.

  ‘What can I do for you, miss?’ The landlady folded her hands in front of her, eyeing Rose up and down as if she were calculating the cost of her clothing, and finding her wanting in taste and style.

  ‘Nothing for me personally.’ Rose responded to her in a similarly haughty tone. ‘I am a distant relative of Mr Gerard Barclay, and I’m recently up from the country so I thought I would call on him. This is the address he gave me.’

  ‘A distant relative, you say.’

  ‘Is my cousin at home, or is he not?’

  ‘He is not. Mr Barclay left yesterday for an un-specified destination. I cannot help you any further.’

  It was obvious to Rose that the woman thought the worst of her, which was humiliating although perhaps not unexpected, and there was no use continu-ing the conversation. She managed a weak smile. ‘Thank you, ma’am. I won’t trouble you further.’

  ‘Who shall I say called?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m on my way to visit Lord and Lady Barclay in Russell Square. I’m sure they will tell me what I want to know.’ Rose had the satisfaction of seeing a flicker of doubt in the landlady’s eyes. ‘Good day to you, ma’am.’ She let herself out of the room, causing Maisie to leap to safety.

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘I would have thought you heard most of the conversation.’

  ‘You didn’t get anything out of the stuck-up old bitch.’

  ‘Hush, Maisie. She might hear you.’ Rose hurried her to the front door, where the maid was waiting to show them out.

  Rose stood on the pavement outside, wondering what to do next. She took a deep breath of the air that was considerably sweeter and cleaner this side of town.

  ‘So did she say anything useful?’ Maisie demanded.

  ‘No, I’m afraid I’m none the wiser.’

  ‘But I am, miss.’ Tommy Tinker emerged from a doorway, grinning from ear to ear. ‘I collared the boot boy. He told me that he’d taken Mr Barclay’s luggage to Waterloo Bridge station where it was to be sent by train to Cornwall.’

  ‘To Cornwall?’ Rose clutched his sleeve. ‘Where in Cornwall, Tommy?’

  ‘I dunno, miss. I think he said it were going to the Barclay family estate, wherever that is.’

  ‘You silly boy,’ Maisie said crossly. ‘You should have asked.’

  Tommy’s face flushed a dull red and his freckles seemed twice as large. He hung his head. ‘Sorry, miss.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Rose said hastily. ‘I think I know where it is. Cora mentioned it once but I didn’t take much notice. I had too many other things on my mind. You did well, the pair of you. Now let’s find a cab and go home.’

  ‘I have to travel to Cornwall, Aunt Polly.’ Rose took off her bonnet and dropped it on a chair in the parlour.

  ‘Cornwall?’ Polly stared at her wide-eyed. ‘Are you going to accept Vere Tressidick’s proposal?’

  ‘Good heavens, no. It has nothing to do with Vere. I think I know where Cora has gone.’

  ‘Where is she? Where has that cad taken her?’ Polly was suddenly alert. She had been relaxing on the chaise longue, stroking Spartacus, who was being unusually docile, but she sat up straight, dislodging him from his comfortable position. She patted his head absent-mindedly and he gave her a resentful look, closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

  ‘Gerard’s luggage was sent to the family estate, which Cora once told me is on the edge of Bodmin Moor. Tommy extracted that information from the boot boy in Duke Street.’

  Polly’s jaw dropped. ‘What is this fascination with Cornwall? I’d never heard of these places until Billy got himself involved with the Tressidick family. Why couldn’t they have had an estate in Surrey or Berkshire?’

  ‘I can’t answer that, Aunt Polly. Anyway, I’m getting the next train to the West Country. I don’t care how long it takes, but I’m going to find Corrie and bring her home.’

  ‘You can’t go alone, dear. That wouldn’t do at all.’

  ‘I travelled to Cornwall from Dorset on my own, but if it makes you happy I’ll take Maisie with me. According to her, no respectable young woman would travel without her maid.’

  ‘I suppose that will have to do,’ Polly said reluctantly.

  ‘I’ll have to let the manager at the Grecian know that I won’t be performing tonight.’

  ‘I’m sorry, dear. You’ve lost your job anyway. Sandro returned not half an hour since with the news. Slattery got in first and told the manager a pack of lies, making out that you were to blame for the disturbance last night. Sandro tried to tell him that you were the innocent victim, but Slattery was believed and we were not. It’s a sad fact, but you’re better off staying away from there as things are.’

  ‘I suspected as much,’ Rose said, shrugging. ‘The most important thing now is to find Corrie. The Sunshine Sisters aren’t finished yet, you’ll see.’

  Less than an hour later Rose and Maisie were waiting on the platform at Waterloo Bridge station. Their train was due at any moment and the porter had their luggage stacked on a trolley, waiting to take it to the guard’s van. Maisie’s youthful face was flushed with excitement and her brown eyes were alight with wonder as she took in the busy scene. It was nothing new to Rose, but she could see that Maisie was drinking it all in. Her eyes widened as an engine let off steam, the loud screech reverberating from the rafters and the glass roof. She uttered a muffled shriek, covering her ears with her hands as the great beast of an engine roared into sight. It slowed down with a loud grating sound of iron wheels on iron tracks, and came to a halt with a burst of steam. The smell of hot oil, smoke and burning coals mingled with the industrial odours of the lead works and the local brewery. Rose was beginning to feel like a seasoned traveller, but Maisie appeared to be overcome by the experience.

  ‘Follow me, if you please.’ The porter trundled his trolley along the platform and Rose grabbed Maisie by the hand as he led them to a first-class carriage. Polly had insisted that they must travel in comfort and relative safety, and Rose had not had the heart to argue. Left to herself she would have saved the money and travelled third class, but Polly had taken the funds from her safe and had made Rose promise to do as she asked.

  The porter opened the carriage door and Rose was about to get in when she heard someone call her name.

  Maisie tugged at her sleeve. ‘Look who it is, miss. What a coincidence.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Vere.’ Rose had recognised his voice and her heart sank. She did not relish the thought of travelling all the way to Bodmin in his company. ‘I didn’t expect to see you.’

  ‘I told you that I was returning home today. Perhaps you forgot.’ He assisted Maisie into the carriage and climbed in after her. ‘This is a most pleasant surprise. Might I dare to hope that you’ve changed your mind? Are you on your way to Portmorna?’

  Rose settled herself in a corner seat. ‘No, it’s rather more complicated than that.’ She frowned at Maisie, who seemed to have difficulty in choosing where to place herself. ‘Do sit down, please. The train will be leaving soon.’

  ‘I’m sorry, miss. I ain’t never been on one of these things afore. I’m afraid of sitting close to the window in case I gets sucked out.’

  Vere’s normally serious expression melted into a smile. ‘I wouldn’t worry about that. This is a very safe way to travel. Might I suggest that you take a seat next to your mistress? I’ll sit opposite, so if anyone gets sucked out of the window it will be me.’

  Maisie sank down beside Rose. ‘Ta, sir. You’re a gent.’

  Vere made himself comfortable and the sound of the guard’s whistle and the slamming of carriage doors announced the train’s imminent departure. The noise of the engine building up steam filled the compartment, making conversation impossible for a while. Maisie buried her face in her hands, apparently terrified by the noise, and she uttered a muffled scream when the train began to move. Ro
se sighed inwardly; it was going to be a long journey.

  ‘May I ask where you’re going?’ Vere gave her a searching look.

  ‘Cora has run away with Gerard Barclay.’ She had not meant to blurt it out in such a manner, but there seemed little point in dissembling. Short of a miracle, it would be common knowledge soon enough. She could imagine how the newspapers would love to print a lurid story of the elopement of a baron’s son and the girl from the music hall.

  Vere frowned. ‘I’m sorry, although after the debacle at the theatre it would seem inevitable.’

  ‘Why would you say such a thing?’ Rose demanded, bristling. ‘My sister is a sensible young woman.’

  ‘Perhaps, but people seem to act very differently when they are besotted. It was obvious that Barclay’s parents were intent on forbidding the match, which left the young couple with very little choice.’

  Rose stared at him in surprise. ‘You sound as if you approve of Cora and Gerard’s actions.’

  ‘Perhaps I do, in a way. I am not always as hidebound and prudent as you seem to think, Rose. My cousin Bennett is the one with the calculating mind. I, on the other hand, am inclined to be impetuous.’

  At any other time Rose might have laughed at such a notion, but she was seeing Vere in a different light. She had expected him to be shocked and disapproving, and he was neither.

  ‘I’m hoping to persuade Cora to return to London with me,’ she said stiffly. ‘If this becomes public knowledge her reputation will be ruined. They are both under age and would need parental consent in order to marry. I know that my papa would never agree to such a match, and it’s obvious that Lord Barclay feels the same.’

  ‘Perhaps you ought to inform your father, Rose. Cora is, after all, his responsibility.’

  ‘I couldn’t do that. Papa had to leave the parish he had nurtured and loved for twenty years because of Billy, and our mother is in a delicate state of health. I think another scandal would be too much for her to bear.’