“I don’t think that is entirely practical. The amount of wires and the cost involved is extraordinary and could never be viable.” Then he fell silent, frowning at the telegraph. “Not in this format, at least.”
Nic stared at it too, clearly astonished and intrigued by all that had been seen.
“Could it be adapted?” he asked.
Gabe turned back to Nic, studying him for a long moment before he answered.
“The chap who invented this is always coming up with new variations, each one more expensive than the last,” he added with a snort. “I don’t think it will happen in the near future but… well, it is an intriguing concept.”
“It is. Think of the impact it could have on business, if you could get a message from say, London to Manchester… or even Paris,” Nic said, looking struck by the possibility.
“Paris!” Gabe exclaimed. “I think you might be getting ahead of yourself, Mr Demarteau. There is the small matter of a rather wide body of water between us and France, or had you forgotten?”
Nic grinned at him and shrugged, looking almost boyish with enthusiasm. “I had not forgotten. I was only dreaming, I suppose.”
Gabe nodded at him with rather more approval than before. “Such dreams are what the future are built on. Come, let me show you the wires the messages run along, and you’ll better understand the constraints the system works within.”
Eliza watched as Nic, Jules, and her uncle filed out of the bureau, leaving her alone with Helena.
“Well,” her aunt said with a smile. “So, that is the infamous Monsieur Demarteau.”
Eliza nodded. “Did you like him?”
“He’s extremely handsome,” Helena replied. “Lucky girl.”
“He’s more than a handsome face, though,” Eliza said, making a show of studying the telegraph again. “He’s… oh, Helena, he’s so kind beneath that gruff exterior, but no one ever sees that side of him.”
“But you do,” Helena replied.
Eliza nodded and turned back to her. “Mama said I must speak to you about it. Papa is very unhappy with me.”
Her aunt snorted. “No? Really? You thought he’d be pleased that you’d run off and got into the man’s bed when he wasn’t at home and lay in wait to seduce him?”
Eliza blushed. “Of course not!”
“Well, then, my dear, you can hardly be surprised that he views your beloved with such suspicion. You have ever been the model of propriety, so much so you have put us lesser mortals to shame, and yet you fall in love with this man and suddenly you are acting like the verriest hoyden. Yes, I should think my poor brother is scared to death at what he might induce you to do next.”
“Oh, but Nic never encouraged me! Indeed, Helena, he was furious.”
Helena laughed and held out her hands to Eliza, grasping hers warmly. “Oh, dearest Eliza. I never believed he had. I am only illustrating what poor Robert must be feeling, but he is not an unreasonable man. If your Nic is as good and honourable as you say, my brother will see that too, in time, and he will accept him, just as he accepted Gabe. But it did not happen overnight. You cannot expect it to.”
“Did you ever regret it, Helena?”
Helena frowned.
“Marrying Gabe?” She gave a little laugh, and a soft look entered her eyes. “Never. I adore him. He is everything I ever dreamed of. Gabe challenges me and supports me and we have come through many ups and downs, but he has never wavered. He is the foundation on which I stand, and he keeps me strong, but that is not to say it has always been easy. I did lose friends, Eliza, not that I ever regretted them, for a friend who would cast me aside over marrying a good man like Gabe is not a friend at all. It does sting, though, at the time, and you must be prepared for it. There will be snide comments from those who once toadied up to you and now enjoy viewing you as having been in some way diminished. Those people do not, cannot comprehend what it is to love, though, and I have only ever pitied them their lack of understanding.”
Eliza nodded.
“I do know that, and I can imagine how it must sting but… but the idea of losing Nic…” Her breath caught at the idea and she shook her head. “That is not a little unpleasantness, that is… unthinkable.”
Helena nodded, her eyes very bright. “And there is your answer.”
“Yes,” Eliza replied, a little choked.
“Well, if I know my husband, I believe he may approve of your choice.”
Helena gestured to the window and the scene farther along the platform where Gabe and Nic were immersed in an animated conversation.
Eliza laughed, delighted and relieved to think that Nic might have found an ally among her family.
8th April 1839, Covent Garden.
“Better,” Louis said, as Aggie quietly filched his fob and watch as she sidled past him.
She was a remarkably quick learner. The girl beamed at him, triumphant as she handed him his belongings back. Louis took them with a smile, but still a sense of unease nagged at him. Why, he didn’t know. He had lived this way for long enough, as had Nic. When the weather was bad and people didn’t want to go out to visit Franconi’s, when Nic’s mama had run up bills they had no money to pay, and there was nothing to spend on food… well, it had to come from somewhere. Millions of children lived like this, and yet….
“Can I try it out for real now?” she said, her fingers almost twitching with impatience. “It’s all well and good me swiping your watch and fob when I have to give the bleeding thing back again. That won’t put food in my belly.”
Louis frowned. He’d given her enough money to eat well for the last few days, warning her not to try her luck until she was better equipped. Yet now she was far quicker and less likely to get caught, something inside him rebelled at the idea.
Stop being such a damned fool, Louis. She’s a thief. It’s not your fault she’s a thief, and she’s a damn sight less likely to get caught now.
It was a reasonable argument.
He felt sick.
“Agatha….”
“Aggie,” she corrected, rolling her eyes.
Louis sighed. “Aggie, how did you come to be here?”
She gave him an odd look. “You told me to meet you here. Every day for five days now.”
With an impatient click of his tongue, Louis shook his head. “Your parents, what happened to them? Did you know them?”
Aggie frowned and wrapped her skinny arms about herself.
“Why do you want to know? What’s it to you?”
Louis wasn’t sure he could answer that. “I don’t know,” he said, realising she would smell a lie as easily as he could. “Curiosity. Will you tell me?”
She studied him for a long moment, measuring up the reasons for and against. Though she did not trust him, she had done well enough from him and it might mean more coin in her hand if she told him a sob story. He could almost see the thoughts run through her mind, the same thoughts he would have had himself, though he doubted she need manufacture a heart-rending tale. Most children who lived like her had a history that would make any with the slightest claim to a heart weep with pity.
“I knew them,” she said quietly. “Ma married a bad man. She was lovely. Pretty and soft, and she smelled so nice. I remember that, but Pa….”
She shivered and shook her head.
“Where are they?”
Her face darkened with her tone. “Don’t know about him. Ran off about four years ago, never saw him again. Ma got sick and died, two years ago now, I suppose. I spent a bit of time in the workhouse after she went, but I escaped. I’d rather take my chances than go back there again.”
Louis nodded, well understanding her reasoning.
“Aggie, we both know this life… it’s not one where you’ll grow old. There’s no happy ending here.”
The look she gave him was that of a very old man regarding a little boy, and Louis might have chuckled if he’d not felt so much like crying.
“You think I’m daft, do yo
u? Reckon I’m waiting on a prince to come and rescue me?” she said, curling her lip at him.
Louis gave a soft laugh and shook his head. “Non, I think you are far too wise and quick-witted for that. I am only wondering just how clever you really are.”
She stood a little taller, chin up. He had noticed before now how she responded to the least bit of praise. It made his throat tight. “You said I’m quick. A quick learner, you said. I’m not stupid.”
“No, indeed you are not, but are you clever enough to grab an opportunity when you’re given it?”
Aggie scratched at her scalp and then tugged at the filthy mat of her dark hair as she considered that. Louis longed to see the awful tangle washed and brushed. He suspected she was crawling with lice, and the thought made him itch.
“You got a job for me?” she asked suspiciously, but with a glimmer of interest too. “Need someone with light fingers, someone small who can fit in tight spaces?”
Louis frowned and then wondered if that might be the best tack to take with her. He doubted she would like the idea if he did not make it appealing. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose I have.”
“Go on.” She folded her arms, her head tilted to one side, birdlike, her blue eyes attentive and bright.
“I have a friend, a lady, who is about to open a school. It will teach orphan girls, like yourself, to read and write, and to learn skills that they might use to support themselves, instead of thieving or….”
“Or lying on their backs?” she suggested without so much as a blush.
“Quite,” Louis replied.
“I don’t want to go to no school,” she said at once and exactly as he had predicted, a mutinous look on her face.
“Of course you don’t,” she said, waving this away. “It is not for the likes of you. You are too wild to be kept in a cage, petit oiseau.”
“Petty what?” She scrunched up her nose at him and Louis laughed.
“Petit oiseau. It means little bird.”
“Oh,” she said, and he could see that pleased her.
“The thing is, this friend of mine, she is the daughter of a duke.”
“Cor!” Aggie said, eyes wide and round. “A duke? That’s like a king, ain’t it?”
“Isn’t it,” Louis corrected. “And no, not quite but close enough. As you might imagine, my friend is—”
“A babe in the woods?”
“Exactly,” Louis said, pleased she had grasped the problem at once. “And I am worried that some of the children she tries to help, or even the staff, might take advantage of her kind nature.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
Louis shrugged. “Well, I’m not sure. It’s probably not something you’d be able to manage, because you’d have to pretend to fit in and act like the other girls, and I don’t think I could ask that of such a wild thing as you. You’d not be able to stand it. There would be many lessons to learn, and a strict bedtime. I cannot imagine you living a life with soft beds and clean clothes, having to wash every day and do as you were told, when to eat… you’d miss being free, being—”
“I could do it,” Aggie said, looking affronted. “You think I’m too stupid to learn how? Or… here, are you trying to trick me?”
Louis sighed.
“Perhaps a little,” he admitted. “Only I did not think you would help me if I asked directly. Forgive me, Aggie, that was foolish, and the last thing I would think was that you were the least bit stupid.”
She glowered at him with suspicion and he shrugged, uncertain how to proceed now. Louis gave her an enquiring look and was surprised to see something like interest in her eyes.
“Is she nice, this lady?”
“Very,” Louis said at once. “Too nice.”
Aggie pursed her lips.
“Do… Do you mean to say you would do it?” he asked, eyebrows raising.
Aggie shrugged and stared at the ground, scuffing the toe of a well-worn boot against the wall they were stood beside. “Reckon I might be able to give it a go. Just for a bit, like. To make sure your friend don’t get caught out by sharpers.”
“Well, Agatha… Aggie,” he corrected hastily at her glare. “I should consider myself in your debt if you would… give it a go.”
Aggie spat in her hand and held it out to him. Louis regarded it with revulsion. “Child, I would cut my hand off first. That is disgusting.”
“It seals the deal!” she exclaimed impatiently.
“No.”
She rolled her eyes and wiped her hand vigorously on her tattered coat sleeve before holding it out again. Thank God he was wearing gloves. He took her hand and shook it solemnly.
“I will meet you here in two days, at nine a.m. sharp,” he said, before handing her a small bag of coins. “There is enough here to feed you and get you something half decent to wear, including shoes. You’ll need a bath too, and… your hair.”
He made a general motion towards her head and tried not to grimace.
Aggie looked at him in horror.
“I told you washing would be necessary,” he pointed out, folding his arms. “There is no negotiating the point.”
She grumbled and muttered but didn’t back out.
“In two days, Aggie. Don’t you think about letting me down, will you?” he said, wondering if she’d really do it.
“I ain’t no liar, and I gave my word,” she grumbled, taut with injured pride.
Louis smiled. “So you did. Well, then, I shall see you in two days, mon petit oiseau.”
She brightened then and her nose crinkled as she grinned at him. “Right you are then.”
Louis watched her go, uncertain still what the emotion was kicking about in his chest, but this time he was smiling.
Chapter 15
Dear Lady Elizabeth,
I hope that things go well between you and Nic. He has not yet deigned to forgive me, so we are tiptoeing about each other and avoiding confrontation by keeping ourselves apart. It is likely for the best.
I did wish to enquire how your school was progressing and if I might call on you there tomorrow afternoon. I am loath to admit it after everything, but I have a very great favour to ask of you.
―Excerpt of a letter from Louis César de Montluc, the Comte de Villen to Lady Elizabeth Adolphus.
10thApril 1839, The Phoenix Charitable School for Young Ladies, London.
Eliza looked around the school with a sense of pride. There was still a vast amount to do in a ridiculously short space of time, but with hard work and—to her great delight—help from Nic, they would make it happen. The gardeners were working hard to prepare the kitchen garden, and they touched their hat brims and greeted her politely as she passed them. Hurrying upstairs, she sighed with impatience to see the dormitories were still large, bare rooms, but at least they were clean and bright, awaiting only their furniture and their occupants. On a large trestle table were little piles of uniforms. Eliza had quite unashamedly written to all her friends and relations and sent them pattern pieces and fabric samples, and begged them to help her make the school uniforms. It would have been easy to ask her father for the money, of course, but that was not how she wanted this to work. She wanted to achieve something from her own creativity and ingenuity and, yes, with the support of her friends. Pride in them and their willingness to help her made happiness swell inside her. The truth was, she had no idea how to do this and was still finding her way, having had anything she wished for at the snap of her fingers her whole life. Even without her father’s help, things came easily to her – all things except Nic perhaps, she thought with a smile. Yet she wanted to work for this, to feel she contributed something greater than throwing her considerable allowance at the project. Her fingers were sore from spending so many hours sewing and hemming, but as pitiful an effort as it was in the scheme of the project, it was something tangible that she had worked on with her own hands.
In the long run, she planned for the school could support itself, with the olde
r children making the uniforms as part of their training. For now, she had been thrilled that nearly everyone had responded to some degree and there was already a reasonable stock of pinafores and petticoats etcetera in a variety of sizes. Of course, that still left shoes and stockings and… oh, there was so much to think about.
“I made these.”
Eliza looked around at Lady Catherine as she proudly displayed a neat pile of simple shifts.
“Mama helped me,” she admitted.
“They are very fine, Cat, thank you,” Eliza said, smiling at the girl. “Can you take them through to Elspeth and ask her to take stock of all the clothing, so we can work out if there is anything missing?”
“Well, I know Mama made five dresses herself, so there ought to be quite a few. She would have done more, but Papa grumbled about her becoming a seamstress when he would happily pay to have things made and she had far better things to do, so he made her stop.”
“Oh?” Eliza said, amused.
“Yes,” Cat replied, shrugging. “He took her to her bedroom to have a stern word with her about working too hard.”
Eliza smothered a laugh and choked, and Cat patted her on the back, concern in her eyes. “Are you all right, Eliza? You’re not getting sick again?”
“Oh… Oh, n-no,” Eliza managed. “No, I’m quite well, thank you. You run along and ask Elspeth to come now, please.”
“All right, then,” Cat said, hurrying off in search of Elspeth.
Amused, Eliza returned her attention to the things she needed to do. She had organised a tombola for all the local shops who were prepared to give a contribution to the school. She had visited every one of them herself and there had been a wonderful response, with donations of books, paper and pens, needles and thread and fabric, as well as cooking utensils, and all manner of other odds and ends that were bound to come in useful. In return, those entering could win some splendid prizes, ranging from a beautiful leather-bound and signed copy of her mother’s latest book, a giant ham, a set of silver spoons, a lavish hamper from the kitchens of Beverwyck, and some very stylish kid gloves, to name just a few. Maison Blanchet, the marvellous fashion house that had made her sister’s stunning wedding dress, had also been hugely supportive, not least because Madame Blanchet would have first pick of all the most talented seamstresses who emerged from the school.
Dare to be Brazen (Daring Daughters Book 2) Page 17
