Miss Lottie's Christmas Protector (Secrets 0f A Victorian Household Book 1)

by Sophia James

  The ridiculousness of her own hopes crashed down upon her and even in the new dress with her hair done she felt sad. There would be no fairy-tale ending for her, no splendid and glorious transformation into a woman whom Jasper might truly find attractive. Yet he was helping her and for that she owed him her eternal gratitude. It was enough. It was more than enough. Fixing a smile on her lips, she looked out of the window as the façade of an impressive town house came into sight.

  * * *

  Everything shone. The room, the people, the music and the lights above. It was as though she had crossed the threshold of ordinary and arrived at another place entirely, a place where money held no matter, the everyday struggles of most of the population of London consigned here to the forgotten.

  ‘My father would be turning in his grave to see the waste of so much money.’

  Jasper next to her looked down. ‘The Viscount is a hedonist and a shallow one at that. I doubt whether your father would have ever given him a thought.’

  Such words were surprising. ‘You knew my papa?’

  ‘Vaguely. I was saddened by Henry’s premature death.’

  ‘As were we all. It was a love match for my parents. They saw each other and fell in love in a second. Just like that.’

  ‘Like a story?’ There was a note in his voice which denoted disbelief.

  ‘Sometimes fairy tales do come true, Mr King. There have been many at the Foundation who find lives they never before felt were possible. Harriet was such a one and she was thrilled when she obtained permanent employment in the laundry.’

  He acknowledged such an outcome and they came on to the end of a long line of people.

  ‘It’s a receiving line.’ He sounded impatient.

  ‘Just smile.’ Meghan had caught them up now, having been waylaid by a friend she had seen as she stepped down from the carriage. ‘Remember to address Harcourt with “my lord” if he asks you any questions, Charlotte, as he looks like the sort of man who expects to be deferred to.’

  ‘A popinjay,’ Jasper added. ‘God help us all.’

  Nigel Payne came to stand beside them and he was as effusive as Lottie remembered him to be as he grabbed her hand.

  ‘Miss Fairclough.’ He bent down to kiss her knuckles and she resisted the urge to pull away. ‘I’d heard that you would be coming tonight and it is a rare treat to see you so very radiant. Are your mama and sister with you?’

  ‘No, they are in the country, Mr Payne, for the Christmas season.’

  ‘Well, let me introduce you personally to Lord Harcourt. I’m to be married, you see, later in the year to his niece, so it’s a close relationship.’

  She felt Jasper beside her breathe out hard.

  ‘Did Mr King tell you how he saved my life? No, I see he did not so I shall make it a point to relate the incident to you later. Mrs Gibson.’ He had suddenly sighted Meghan. ‘Two of the most beautiful women in the room with one man. Well, that hardly seems fair, but then your brother always did attract the most splendid of girls.’

  ‘Which one is Harcourt?’ Jasper broke in now, giving Lottie the impression he had lost patience with such rambling nonsense.

  ‘There.’ Mr Payne gestured to a tall man a few yards away, a man dressed in a colourful silk waistcoat and a deep navy satin coat.

  He looked like someone who placed great stock in his looks. On the fingers of the hand he held out to those in welcome he wore a number of rings, each one more gaudy than the one next to it.

  As their names were announced Viscount Harcourt looked towards them.

  ‘Ah, Mr King, thank you for coming for I have heard much about your adventures to the north with the railways. My niece’s husband-to-be also sings your praises.’ His eyes then registered Lottie at Jasper’s side and he took her cold hand in his warm one. ‘Miss Charlotte Fairclough of the Fairclough Foundation, I understand. It is a pleasure to meet you.’ Letting go of Lottie’s fingers, he tipped his head to Meghan. ‘Mrs Gibson.’

  The fact that she hailed from the Foundation didn’t seem to disturb Harcourt unduly. This fact set up a further question, for had Harriet wished to escape the clutches of Viscount Harcourt the powerful force of the Fairclough Foundation should have been worrying to a man who had simply taken what he wanted. Jasper seemed to have surmised exactly the same thing because he moved straight on to another topic.

  ‘Your ball has all the makings of an unmitigated success, Viscount Harcourt.’

  Harcourt laughed, clearly pleased by the compliment.

  ‘Wait until you see the entertainment I have planned. Such a divergence from the more normal etiquette should prove most interesting.’

  Lottie could see that Jasper was astonished. Perhaps society balls were usually more plain occasions, then? Given that she had never once attended one she had no idea whatsoever.

  ‘There’s a gambling room, too, where I can promise the stakes will be hefty. I know such things in this climate are frowned upon, but I remember a time when they were not. I dare say you might, too, Mr King?’

  ‘I do, my lord.’ The words sounded forced. ‘You have thought of everything.’

  Then they moved on to the introductions with other family members. Mr Payne’s bride-to-be, Eloise Proctor, was a surprise in that she was a large girl with kind eyes. Of all those here in the line she was the one to whom Lottie warmed the most.

  She was glad when the introductions were finished and they came to a staircase leading down into a crowded room.

  ‘This is where our work begins,’ Jasper said quietly, ‘for someone here might know something about Harriet White and, as soon as Harcourt joins the throng, we will aim to get as close to him as we can.’

  ‘You think he will talk of her?’

  ‘Oh, there’s a strong possibility. He will be elated by his successful gathering and wine will loosen his tongue further.’

  Lottie remembered a quote she knew. ‘“I say the gentleman had drunk himself out of his five senses.”’

  ‘Shakespeare?’ Jasper’s query about the origin of her words held humour.

  ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor. My mother loves his plays.’

  ‘Do you read widely, Miss Fairclough?’

  ‘I do indeed, Mr King. I like adventure stories and books about far-off places.’

  His frown worried her, but Meghan had caught their attention now with her notice of a group of young girls to one side.

  ‘Is your Harriet one of those ladies, Charlotte?’

  ‘No, unfortunately she is not.’

  A breathtakingly beautiful woman had suddenly materialised at their side, the same blonde guest from the charity event the other day accompanying her.

  ‘Jasper?’ Her plea held great emotion and Lottie thought just for a moment that the newcomer might well break down into tears.

  ‘Mrs Alworthy.’

  ‘Verity, please. Surely we have not come to be quite that distanced?’ Her voice was tremulous and desperate.

  Jasper turned towards her. ‘Allow me to introduce Miss Charlotte Fairclough. Charlotte, this is Mrs Verity Alworthy.’

  A slight hesitancy followed.

  ‘I hoped I might have a few moments to speak to you, Jasper. Alone?’

  She seemed fragile. She was also looking at Mr King as if he were the answer to all her prayers.

  Lottie thought Jasper might simply refuse her, but then he demurred, leaving Meghan and her in the company of the other woman.

  ‘I do hope he shan’t be too long,’ Meghan said and looked at the dance floor with longing.

  ‘It seems as if dancing is the least important of things, Mrs Gibson. My friend Verity’s heart has been broken.’

  ‘Perhaps then, Miss Seymour, she ought to have thought of that when she left my brother perfunctorily on the eve of their nuptials.’

  There was a note
in Meghan’s voice that Lottie had not heard there before. A challenge and a direct protection of her sibling. She certainly did not look as if she liked either of these newcomers.

  Sensing opposition, the other woman backed down.

  ‘Your cough seems a lot better tonight, Miss Fairclough?’

  ‘It is, thank you. I procured some special medicine from an herbalist in Rochester Row on the edge of the Irish Rookery and it seems to be doing the trick.’

  A look of disdain passed into the other woman’s eyes. ‘I forget your Foundation lies so close to that part of town.’

  ‘We provide services to the population there, so it is entirely well placed.’

  The conversation faltered.

  When Jasper and Mrs Verity Alworthy returned to them Mrs Alworthy did not look at all pleased. As the orchestra struck up in preparation for the waltz he took Charlotte’s arm, withdrawing himself from the whole situation.

  On the dance floor he faced her directly. ‘I am sorry. Mrs Alworthy is an old acquaintance who has problems.’

  So he would not say anything of the relationship between them? Meghan’s words echoed in her brain.

  Why had Verity Alworthy left him? What had he thought at the time? The eve of a marriage sounded like particularly poor timing to leave anyone in the lurch. Lottie wondered how that had played out.

  Certainly now Jasper looked angry at the other woman’s interruption. She also sensed guilt.

  He was not a man who was easy to read and she knew that there were things about him that were hidden. Women liked him. She could see in those around him their stares and hopeful glances. Lottie thought that had she been Verity Alworthy, on the cusp of becoming Mrs Jasper King, she would have fought tooth and nail to keep him.

  ‘She is upset?’

  ‘She has fairly recently lost a husband.’

  The words sounded rough, a flare of fury threaded through them. When he moved into the dance she felt his right side lurch and his arms tighten. Then he seemed to recover, his grip loosening.

  ‘It’s been a while since I have done this.’

  She frowned as the dark in his eyes raked across her, the loss there so at odds with all he showed the world.

  ‘I am not a proficient dance partner, Mr King. My own style is the result of a few practised hours at home with my sister and brother. I can claim no finesse whatsoever.’

  He laughed and a warmth spread through her, her hand curling across his nape, bringing him in. Instinctive. Shocking. It was as if it was only Jasper and her alone on this dance floor, the rest of the ball falling away somehow into nothingness.

  She felt his body against her, felt the rhythm of the music and the play of light, the rise and fall of movement smooth even given his limp. Two halves, both made more as a whole.

  ‘I think you are well practised, Mr King, despite your protesting otherwise.’

  To one side she could see Verity Alworthy staring at them with a heavy frown on her beautiful face.

  ‘I was supposed to marry her.’

  The words said out loud and with the woman present were a shock to her.

  ‘But you did not?’

  ‘I got injured. The timings were unfortunate.’ He brushed off her concern and asked a question of his own.

  ‘What do you make of Nigel Payne?’

  ‘He is a man who needs a woman and I like the girl who will become his bride. She seems kind.’

  ‘You were not interested in his advances?’

  ‘He told you of his attentions?’ She shook her head. ‘I value my freedom, Mr King, and I am sure I must have related such to him on numerous occasions.’

  * * *

  He’d asked Charlotte to dance in order to get away from Verity, but now, in her arms with her fingers on his neck, he felt he had jumped from the frying pan straight into the fire. The flames of want consumed him and his leg hurt like the devil.

  God, he never wanted a repeat of what had happened between himself and Verity and his leg was swelling and aching more than it had done in the three years since the accident. It would be foolish to think that a beautiful young woman like Charlotte Fairclough would imagine herself wanting to be stuck with him. What was it that she had said of Nigel Payne?

  ‘I value my freedom, Mr King.’

  And she should.

  The freedom to be whoever she wanted to be, to travel the world, to walk from one side of London to the other. She did not seem to him in any way to be static.

  Static. The word held a dread that he could barely explain, but each year he was less mobile, more hampered, the pain greater, the leg worse. Soon he knew he would have to bring out the walking stick from the back of his wardrobe permanently and after that...

  He shook his head.

  ‘I think you value yours as well, Mr King.’ Her words came through the fog.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Your freedom. You seem to me like a man who uses up life wisely.’

  Jasper nodded because it was the only reply he could give and as the music wound down into the final throes of the dance he felt as if he had missed a chance he might never get back.

  Chapter Seven

  Shepherding Charlotte back to his sister, Jasper was pleased that Verity and her friend were no longer present.

  ‘Mrs Alworthy has gone home with a headache. You made a lucky escape from a woman like that,’ his sister said. ‘Her unending neediness would be wearying in the extreme, I should imagine. But to get back to the matter of why we are here, Viscount Harcourt is now in deep conversation with that man.’

  Jasper looked around at the Viscount who was only a few yards away and, edging backwards, he brought Charlotte and his sister with him.

  Charlotte, taking the cue, began to speak to Meghan in a quiet tone while he merely feigned interest, his whole being focused on what was being said between Harcourt and the stranger.

  * * *

  After five minutes of nothing he had almost given up when the other changed the topic completely.

  ‘I want another girl, George. One more like the pretty blonde I saw you with the other day. The one with the fascinating birthmark on her chin.’

  ‘My latest sweetheart is indeed beautiful and compliant, but I have already become tired of her.’

  ‘So she’s gone?’

  ‘This morning. There’s a replacement on the way as we speak. One with the same colouring, but with a more gentrified background. Working in a laundry hardly stimulates illuminating conversation.’

  Both men laughed.

  ‘Though she did have some experience in bed and was sweetly grateful for any titbit of kindness.’

  The conversation ended there and Jasper turned to watch the two men separate and move away.

  God. Charlotte would be aghast at Harriet’s acquiescence.

  A replacement? What the hell did that mean for Harriet White? Before he could think about it further the music heralded the arrival of a troupe of acrobats and the crowd leaned in to watch, Meghan among them.

  Charlotte, however, had stayed back, her eyes alight with questions and, taking her hand in his, he led her to a small alcove at the very edge of the room, shaded by a line of bushy and ornamental trees.

  Here there was some allowance of privacy, the candles alight on an old barrel alluding to a rustic atmosphere, but also adding to the concealment.

  ‘Harriet was with Harcourt.’ His words were measured.

  ‘Was?’ Her eyes darkened.

  ‘She has been sent away somewhere.’

  ‘By her own accord? Did she go because she wanted to?’

  Jasper could not lie. ‘More his wish, I think, though it does not sound as if she was coerced to come to him.’

  ‘He got bored with her?’

  Charlotte had read all that he was not saying well and she
looked truly heartbroken.

  ‘It does not mean she has been hurt. Harcourt is expecting a replacement which makes me think there is someone shifting women around. They would be a valuable commodity.’

  ‘Unless they made trouble?’

  ‘Was Miss White a woman who would be likely to do that? Make trouble?’

  She shook her head. ‘She was not.’

  ‘Then we will find her, Miss Fairclough. We will find her and we will help any others who are also involved and no longer wish to be.’

  * * *

  Lottie felt the relief as a physical slam in her stomach and then as a thickness in her throat as she fought to keep back the tears.

  He would help her. Jasper would help her even though he now suspected Harriet had been compliant in the whole sordid affair. She could not believe that he would. She could not believe that he might credit Harriet with a second chance and put his own life on hold and at risk to save a girl who had, unfortunately, been foolish.

  ‘It would mean going back to the dangers of Old Pye Street?’

  ‘I am sure I could handle that.’

  ‘I want to come with you.’

  ‘I know.’

  Another slam of wonder struck her. He was not disputing her offer. He was not turning her away. He was trusting her to know her own mind and to support her in the doing of it.