The Ragged Heiress

by Dilly Court

  She realised suddenly that something was terribly wrong. She could not hear Guthrie breathing. Fingers of panic clutched at her heart as she leaned over the bed. His eyes were closed and his skin was the colour of old parchment, stretched taut over his cheekbones like the skin on a drum. She held her shaking hand close to his mouth. He was cold and still. She grasped him by the shoulders, shaking him like a terrier with a rat. ‘Lennie, Lennie, speak to me.’ She felt hysteria rising in her throat as his head lolled to one side and his jaw dropped. ‘Lennie. Open your eyes. It’s me, Lucy.’

  Someone was attempting to drag her away from him but she wouldn’t let go. She buried her head on his chest, sobbing. ‘No, no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to let you die alone.’

  Hands prised her fingers loose and she was lifted bodily. Dimly, she recognised a familiar voice as she was carried from the ward. ‘It’s all right, Lucetta. I’m here.’

  She opened her eyes to find herself lying on a bed in a side ward. Giles was sitting by her side, holding her hand. She snapped into a sitting position. ‘Lennie. I must go to him, Giles.’

  He shook his head. ‘No one can hurt him now. His heart couldn’t cope with the toxins already in his system and he succumbed to post-operative shock. It happens all too often in cases such as his, but it was quick and painless. He died peacefully in his sleep.’

  She bent her head, hiccuping on a sob. ‘Oh, poor man. He was so frightened of dying.’

  Giles wrapped his arms around her and held her while she sobbed broken-heartedly against his shoulder. He stroked her hair, speaking to her softly. ‘Nothing and no one can harm him now. He was a wanted man, Lucetta. The law would have caught up with him sooner or later and he would have been hanged. This was a far better way out for him and you mustn’t feel guilty. You cared for him until the last.’ He took a large handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her eyes. ‘When you feel strong enough I’ll take you home.’

  ‘I have no home now, Giles.’

  ‘Mary has given me the strictest instructions to take you back to Lonsdale Square. She would never forgive me if I went against her wishes.’

  Lucetta took the hankie from him and blew her nose in its pristine white folds. ‘I don’t know why you are both so kind to me when I’ve been nothing but trouble.’

  ‘I won’t listen to such talk,’ he said briskly. ‘You’ll feel better when you’ve had a decent meal and a good night’s sleep.’

  She gave him a watery smile. ‘Is that doctor’s orders?’

  ‘It most certainly is. Do you feel strong enough to walk or shall I carry you?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She swung her legs over the side of the high bed. ‘But what about Lennie? I can’t just leave him here.’

  ‘I’ll make all the necessary arrangements. Don’t worry about a thing.’

  ‘And Sam. I should go back to the house. He’ll expect to find me there.’

  ‘A message will be sent to him. He can visit you in Lonsdale Square.’

  Obedient as a small child, she placed her hand in his. ‘Thank you for everything, Giles. You are a true friend.’

  The warmth and luxury of the house in Lonsdale Square was almost overwhelming, as was the welcome that Lucetta received from Mary and Sir Hector. Their unspoken sympathy was more touching than a thousand well-chosen words, and ever-practical Mary had made certain that everything had been done to make Lucetta feel at home. A bath had been run for her and her old bedroom had been made ready with a fire burning in the grate and her nightclothes laid out on the bed.

  ‘Everything is as you left it,’ Mary said gently. ‘Mrs Bullen has prepared a special supper for you and if you don’t feel like coming downstairs, I’ll have it brought to you on a tray.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ Lucetta murmured. ‘I don’t know why you are being so good to me.’

  ‘We love you, that’s why.’ Mary slipped her arm around Lucetta’s shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘Now I suggest you take that bath. The smell of the hospital clings to everything.’

  Lucetta gazed longingly at the clean nightgown and wrap laid out on the bed and the starched cotton sheets and pillowcases. ‘I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to feel really clean and to have fresh clothes every day. Having to wash in a basinful of tepid water and using lye soap is the worst torture of all. No wonder the poor find it so hard to keep clean.’

  ‘That’s all in the past now, Daisy. I had all your belongings brought back from Stanton Lacey. Everything is here.’

  ‘I won’t forget this, Mary,’ Lucetta said sincerely. ‘But I must return to Samson’s Green tomorrow.’

  ‘This is your home for as long as you want it,’ Mary said firmly. ‘That part of your life is over now. You are Lucetta Froy and we can prove it.’

  ‘Has a message been sent to Sam? He will be wondering why I haven’t returned.’

  ‘Everything has been attended to. You’ll see him tomorrow but in the meantime you must rest and try not to worry. Things will look better after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.’

  Next morning Lucetta was awakened by the now unfamiliar sound of the maid raking the ashes in the grate as she prepared to relight the fire. Lucetta stretched and yawned, luxuriating in the comfort of the feather mattress. The delicious aroma of hot chocolate emanated from a silver pot on the small table close to her bed and curls of steam issued from the hot water jug on the washstand. The maid put a match to the fire and scrambled to her feet, bobbing a curtsey when she realised that Lucetta was awake.

  ‘I hope I didn’t disturb you, miss.’

  ‘No, not at all. It’s Maisie, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, miss. It’s kind of you to remember. Will there be anything else?’

  Lucetta smiled. If only the child knew how she had been living for the last few months she might not be so deferential now. ‘No, thank you, Maisie.’

  ‘I’ll just pour your chocolate then, shall I?’ Maisie seemed reluctant to leave without having performed some small service.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ Lucetta had been going to refuse, but she could see that the girl was eager to please. She accepted a cup brimming with the dark, sweet-smelling chocolate. ‘That will be all, thank you, Maisie.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  Maisie stooped to pick up the bucket and cleaning tools and Lucetta experienced a wave of pity for the skinny little creature as she staggered out of the room. In the past, Lucetta had never given the plight of their servants much thought and she had accepted their ministrations without question, but now she was seeing things differently. She had learned what it was like to be at the bottom end of the social scale and it had opened her eyes to the hardships and privations suffered by those less fortunate than herself. She thought about the warehouse and the men who slaved away for low wages, receiving little or no thanks from Jeremiah, and she wondered if her father had treated them any better. There was Perks who served the company faithfully and had a position of trust but could not afford to purchase a new shirt when the collar and cuffs wore through on his old one, even though they had been turned and probably turned again. He had been obliged to work on Boxing Day and she had no doubt that Jeremiah would have had all the men in on Christmas Day itself had the necessity arisen.

  She finished her chocolate and threw back the coverlet. She might not be able to save the world, but she was Lucetta Froy, the rightful heir to her father’s company which was being run into the ground by her uncle and cousin. Perhaps the only way she could lay the ghost of Guthrie’s sad past and that of those like him was to stand up and fight the Bradley Froys of this world. She rose from her bed and dressed in one of the elegant gowns that she had thought never to see again. Plain Lucy Guthrie in her second-hand clothes and down-at-heel boots would stand little chance of making a difference, but Miss Lucetta Froy, heiress to a considerable fortune, must be taken seriously. She sat at the rosewood dressing table and put her hair up in coils on the top of her head. A spray of cologne finished her toilette and s
he was ready to start the day. She was about to rise when she remembered Sam and she paused, staring at her face in the mirror. Was she the same girl who had fallen so madly in love with a young seafarer? Was she still in love with him? She shook her head gravely. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘I just don’t know.’

  She stood up with a satisfying swish of silk skirts and starched moreen petticoats and she closed her eyes in a moment of silent remembrance for Guthrie. She could see him now, seated by the fire in their tiny living room with his feet resting on the broken fender that he had liberated from a rubbish tip. He was smiling proudly as she paraded her new-found finery in front of him. She could hear him telling her to ‘sort the old bugger out’. She smiled despite the tears that stung the backs of her eyes.

  ‘I will, Lennie,’ she murmured out loud. ‘When Uncle Bradley returns to London, which must be soon, I’ll make him listen to me if it’s the last thing I do.’ She rummaged in the dressing-table drawer for a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and left the security of her bedchamber, prepared to fight for what was hers.

  Sir Hector looked up from his desk as Lucetta entered the room and half rose from his seat with a tentative smile. ‘I’m glad you came to see me, Lucetta. I would hate to think that my ill-judged advances had built an insurmountable barrier between us.’

  ‘Please don’t apologise, sir. I should not have run off as I did. It was very wrong of me and I am sorry to have caused you and Mary so much anxiety.’

  ‘Do sit down, my dear. I have something important to tell you.’

  Lucetta did as he asked, perching on the edge of the chair where she used to sit and take dictation. ‘Mary told me that you had been working on my behalf.’

  ‘I’m not a practising barrister now, but I keep in touch with my old firm and I went to see one of my colleagues who is a notary public. I showed him the letter from Sir John Boothby and he is willing to take up your case. He has applied to the probate registry for a copy of your father’s will, and if you make an appointment to see him he will ask you to sign an affidavit declaring that you are Lucetta Froy, as witnessed by Sir John. Mary tells me that your fiancé is forced to remain ashore while his ship is being repaired, and I think that his testimony would add weight to your claim.’

  ‘We are not officially engaged,’ Lucetta said hastily. ‘I mean, it was a long time ago.’

  ‘I understand, but if the case goes to court, it would help to have someone close to you who is prepared to swear on oath that you are the daughter of the late Henry and Eveline Froy.’

  ‘Do you think it will come to that, Sir Hector? I can’t afford to pay a lawyer.’

  ‘Faced with such evidence in your favour, I doubt if Mr Froy will relish the thought of an expensive law suit or the publicity that it would generate.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, sir.’

  He smiled, shrugging his shoulders and his blue eyes twinkled. ‘I am not often wrong when it comes to legal matters. That is one area where I feel quite confident.’

  Lucetta did not know what to say. She could not forget his declaration of love for her, and despite his apology, she still felt a little uncomfortable in his presence. ‘You’re very kind and I do appreciate all your help.’

  He cleared his throat and began sorting through the papers on his desk. ‘Think nothing of it. After everything you’ve suffered, you deserve nothing but the best. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my dear, I have a lot of work to get through this morning.’

  She rose to her feet, relieved to have the excuse to leave the room. ‘Yes, of course. Thank you again.’

  ‘I’ll arrange an appointment for you to see my colleague as soon as possible.’

  Lucetta paused as she was about to open the door. ‘Sir Hector, there is another matter – Lennie – I mean, Mr Guthrie – his funeral.’

  ‘I’ve already spoken to Giles. He’s arranging everything. He will speak to you about it.’

  Lucetta nodded her head. ‘Thank you, sir.’ She left him bent over his pile of correspondence and she made her way slowly to the parlour. Her head was buzzing with the unexpected turn of events and she entered the room expecting to find Mary waiting for her, but she was not alone. Giles was standing with his back to the fire and he came towards her with a beaming smile.

  ‘Lucetta, how well you look this morning.’ He took her hand and held it in answer to her mute question. ‘It is all arranged. There will be a simple service tomorrow at noon.’

  Mary had been arranging chrysanthemums in a tall vase and their spicy scent filled the still air. She hesitated with a bronze-headed bloom in her hands. ‘I have a black dress you can borrow, Lucetta.’

  ‘No. Thank you, Mary, but Lennie hated to see women wearing black. He told me once that they reminded him of crows. He had an inexplicable horror of those birds.’

  Giles eyed her anxiously. ‘You don’t have to attend, Lucetta. If it’s going to be too upsetting, Mary and I will go in your stead.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, Giles, but I will be perfectly fine. I must say goodbye to my old friend.’

  Mary dropped the flower on the table and hurried to Lucetta’s side. ‘Of course you must, and we will be there too. I’m sure Lennie would be happy to know that you are amongst friends.’

  Overwhelmed, Lucetta sank down on the sofa. ‘He had such a sad life, and he wasn’t a bad man at heart.’

  ‘Don’t distress yourself, Daisy.’ Mary’s face puckered with concern.

  ‘He was a good friend to you in the end and you did your best for him,’ Giles said gently. ‘That’s how he would want you to remember your time together.’

  Lucetta managed a wobbly smile. ‘I know you’re right, Giles, but I just wish I could have done more for him.’

  ‘Tell me what Papa had to say just now,’ Mary said, making a valiant effort to change the subject. ‘I know that he intends to help you get back what’s rightfully yours, but I’ve no idea how.’

  ‘Don’t pester the poor girl,’ Giles said, hooking his arm around Mary’s shoulders with an affectionate grin. ‘Lucetta will tell us when she’s ready.’

  Lucetta looked up at them and saw them as finely matched as the most expensive pair of thoroughbreds from Tattersall’s. Their dark hair and eyes and even their smiles were so similar that they might have been brother and sister. Lucetta could not help feeling a little envious of the ease they found in each other’s company. She wished that she felt the same when she was with Sam and instantly felt guilty for even thinking such a thing. She managed a weak smile. ‘Hadn’t you better put that flower in water, Mary?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Mary hurried back to the table in the window and she placed the fallen bloom in the vase. ‘Aren’t these lovely? Giles bought them to cheer a dismal day. He is so thoughtful, sometimes.’ She flashed a mischievous smile in Giles’ direction, but his reply was drowned by the impatient jangling of the doorbell. Mary leaned over to peer out of the window. ‘It’s your Sam, Lucetta. Do you feel up to seeing him?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Lucetta said with as much conviction as she could muster. She was not certain that she was ready to face his demands on her, but there was no point in putting off the inevitable. She could hear his voice in the hallway and the piping tones of the maidservant as she asked him to wait.

  Giles made for the door. ‘I’ve business to attend to. I’ll say goodbye for now, Lucetta, but I’ll be here tomorrow with the carriage to escort you and Mary to the church.’

  ‘Papa might want to take us in the landau,’ Mary said, tweaking the last bloom into place. ‘You could come with us.’

  Giles shook his head. ‘I don’t think Sir Hector will attend the service. If the news should leak out that a Member of Parliament was at the funeral of a convicted felon, it could damage his career.’

  Mary frowned and her pale cheeks were suffused with colour. ‘Papa would not let something like that prevent him from doing his duty.’

&nbs
p; ‘It’s all right, Mary,’ Lucetta said hastily. ‘I understand how it is with your papa. Please don’t upset yourself.’

  Mary looked as though she had a lot more to say but the maid entered without knocking and Sam barged past her before she had a chance to announce him. Ignoring Giles and Mary, he strode over to Lucetta and swept her into a passionate embrace.

  Lucetta struggled free and she glanced anxiously at Giles, but he was busy comforting the startled maid. ‘Don’t worry, Maisie, it wasn’t your fault.’ He left the room, closing the door behind him with a force that made the windows rattle.

  ‘We are not alone, Sam,’ Lucetta said angrily.

  He grinned, dragging off his cap and tossing it onto the chair. ‘I’m sure Miss Hastings doesn’t object to a fellow kissing his fiancée. I’ve come with good news, my love. I’ve seen the vicar at the church where your ma and pa are buried and he is free to marry us tomorrow at one o’clock. I wanted to book it earlier but there’s a funeral at noon. By this time tomorrow we will be man and wife. What do you say to that?’

  Chapter Twenty-four

  It was almost as if the huge black birds circling overhead knew of Guthrie’s fear and hatred for crows. Their mournful cawing echoed round the graveyard as Lucetta dropped a handful of ice-cold soil onto the coffin lid.