by Jocelyn Kirk
“And…?”
“Bella died of a fever she caught from a sailor. She were earning ’er bread on ’er back, missus, if you know what I mean.”
“Mrs. Cacker, I said, trying to meet her eye and gain her full attention, “where are the children?”
“In the Dirty Corner. They sleep in a hallway next to one o’ them places where men puff on pipes.”
“What’s the name of the place?”
“World o’ Dreams, Old Biddy said. World o’ Dreams.”
“An opium den!” said Georgina.
Georgina tapped on the carriage hood and told Hiram Dodge to take us home. We deposited Mrs. Cacker in her kitchen and left again immediately. Dodge was not happy about our destination, but he put the horses in motion.
“Wait!” Georgina called. Mr. Dodge pulled up and turned about. “M’lady?”
“We’d best stop at Captain Blake’s house. I will convince him to accompany us, and we will be well protected.”
“Yes, m’lady. A fine idea. The Dirty Corner is no place for ladies.”
I knew from earlier conversations with Georgina that the captain, a widower, lived alone in a dark little house on Callie Lane, although I had not yet met him. He answered our knock himself and threw his arms about Georgina, apologizing for not calling the day before.
Captain Blake was a tall, gray-haired man, past his best years but with a look of energy and vigor. “I had a touch of the gout yesterday,” he said with a laugh, “but today I’m stout as ever.”
We settled in the parlor and accepted port, although the day was early. After a bit of chat, Georgina explained our errand.
“Mrs. Stanfield,” said the old soldier, “these children you seek will no doubt be as deep in hardened evil as every other urchin in the Dirty Corner. I beg you to reconsider your errand.”
“No, indeed. These children are my brother and sister! I will not abandon them, although my father seems to have done so.”
Captain Blake nodded. “Well, then…let us see what can be done.”
The captain procured his sword and jacket, and we hastened to the carriage. He jumped onto the driver’s seat next to Hiram Dodge, and off we went at a fast trot.
How does one describe a place as wretched as the Dirty Corner? We turned from a main thoroughfare down a narrow side street, and entered another world. Emaciated children begged on every street corner, and girls who looked about fourteen loitered in doorways, with their shabby dresses pulled down in front to display their tiny bosoms. A man in rags, shouting gibberish, ran into the street and frightened the horses. All the buildings were black with soot and dirt, and the refuse from chamber pots ran along the gutters. I gagged from the smell and had to hold a handkerchief to my face.
We had no trouble finding the World of Dreams. We espied it before we had found anyone to whom we could pose a question as to its location.
Dodge pulled up the horses, and he and Captain Blake jumped down. Georgina and I stepped gingerly from the carriage, avoiding the gutter. There was a bit of discussion as to who should enter the premises to locate the children; Dodge did not want to remain alone to guard the horses and carriage, and of course Captain Blake would not hear of two ladies going inside alone. We decided Georgina would remain with Dodge, and Captain Blake and I would search for the children. He left a pistol with Dodge but wore a sword for his own protection.
My heart pounded as I followed the tall captain through a dirty, creaky door into a hallway. Before us a flight of stairs led upward, and to our right was an open door. Inside, a haze of smoke filled the room. Several men lounged about in states of half dress, pulling on their hookahs or pipes and staring with unfocused eyes. Two slatternly women walked among them, and one of the women sat on the floor and began to caress a man between his legs!
“Turn away, Mrs. Stanfield,” hissed the gallant captain. I did as I was told, with alacrity.
“Wait here, ma’am. I will inquire of the owner of this wicked place and return in a moment.”
“Mention the name of the children’s mother,” I instructed the captain. “He will no doubt remember Isabella.”
The captain nodded and slipped into the smoky room. I shivered as I stood in the hall, with my back turned toward the opium den. But my wait was not long. Captain Blake soon reappeared and took my arm.
“The proprietor of the establishment said that Isabella’s children still sleep in the hallway, but on most days they are out begging until dark.”
“Oh dear. How can we find them? I do not want to think of returning here after dark.”
“No, certainly not. We will request help from the local constabulary. If you tell them your story and ask them to fetch the children, they will certainly do so. It will be a benefit to have two beggars and—pardon me—thieves, or future thieves, as the case might be, removed from the city.”
As we spoke, we pushed open the door to the street, and our eyes instantly met a terrible sight. Two beggars had seized hold of the bridles of Lady Georgina’s frightened horses and were demanding coins. Georgina was shouting, and Dodge was waving his pistol. As we ran toward the group, Georgina jumped from the carriage and threw herself at one of the men, attempting to pull him away from the horses.
Captain Blake yanked his sword from the scabbard, but before he could reach the group, Dodge discharged his pistol. The thunderous roar of the gun caused the horses to rear and leap forward. The carriage brake was on, but the beasts surged with such might that the carriage was jerked off its wheels.
The force threw Georgina onto the doubletree. The beggars ran off, with Captain Blake chasing them down the street.
Georgina cried out, “Cassie, Dodge, help me! I’m tangled in the harness!” Dodge was pulling on the reins trying to prevent a stampede, so I rushed to Georgina’s aid. Not sure what to do, I leapt atop one of the horses, seized the bridle, and pulled its head to the side, hard. A horse will not go forward if it cannot see ahead, and the creature stopped yanking on the harness and stood shaking. The other frothed about a bit and then also quieted. Dodge jumped from the carriage and held the bridles while I extricated Georgina from the rigging. She had cuts in several places on her arms and hands, and her face was pale. I was afraid she would swoon, and I held her against me until Dodge was able to assist her into the carriage. I gently patted her lacerated hands with a handkerchief and helped her arrange her hair and dress.
A very few minutes seemed to restore her to tranquility, and she soon gave me a reassuring smile. “I declare, Cassie, you have saved my life. Or at least, you saved me from further injury. You are truly brave and resourceful!”
Before I could speak, the clatter of hurrying footsteps distracted us. Captain Blake appeared and had to seize breath a few moments before he could talk.
“Georgina…Mrs. Stanfield…there are two urchins around yon corner, boy and girl, and the girl—I declare!—she is the image of you, Mrs. Stanfield! The very image!”
Georgina did not hesitate. “Dodge, turn about and follow the captain’s directions!”
Captain Blake jumped aboard and held the reins while Dodge led the nervous horses in a circle. We set off at a slow pace. A sharp corner took us to a street with the look of a bit more prosperity, and we quickly spied two thin, filthy children standing on a corner. They eyed the equipage as we pulled up. I peered at the girl—she did indeed resemble me greatly. Her dirty hair was gold and wavy, and her face had the same heart shape as mine. Anyone would have believed she was my daughter.
Captain Blake prepared to disembark. “Careful!” I cautioned. “Do not frighten them!”
The captain held out a gold coin. “This is yours, children, if you can answer one question.” The children stared at the coin with eyes as wide as an owl’s.
“We’ll gie you the answer you want, sir!” cried the boy.
“No, no,” Blake replied. “You must answer honestly. What is the Christian name of your mother?”
The girl shrank back, and I feared s
he would run, but she stepped closer to her brother and took his hand. They stared at Blake.
“Gie me the coin, sir,” said the boy, “and then I’ll tell you.”
“No,” Blake stated. “If you want this coin, tell me the name of your mother.”
“ ’Tis Bella.”
“Is it now?” said Blake. “Just Bella?”
The girl peered at me and then at Blake. “Please, sir, ma’am. I am hungry. Mama’s name be Isabella. Please, sir.”
Blake glanced at me with a question in his eyes. I nodded and stepped from the carriage. I trod carefully and slowly toward the pathetic little boy and girl. My eyes watered as they stared in fear at me.
“Children,” I said, “you are going to have the gold coin and as much food as you can eat, but first you must jump into the carriage so we can drive you to this lady’s home.”
They watched me with narrowed eyes. Judging from the rags they wore and the bruises and red marks on their faces and arms, they were accustomed to being knocked about and used for God only knows what terrible purposes.
As I stood on the muddy road, Georgina and Dodge whispered, and Captain Blake nodded toward the carriage.
Dodge dismounted and stood at the horses’ heads, apparently adjusting something in the harness. Without warning, Blake hissed, “Now!” and Dodge raced forward. He seized the girl, and Blake seized the boy. The children screamed and kicked as they were dragged into the carriage.
“Pray take the reins, milady,” muttered Dodge as he tried to control the thrashing girl. I jumped on the driver’s seat and held the reins until Georgina was with me. She slapped the reins, and we hurried out of that evil place.
We assured the children we would not harm them, and they stopped struggling. But as we trotted through the city, Blake must have loosened his grip on the boy, for the lad gave him a kick and attempted to jump from the carriage.
Blake tightened his hold again. “Did you not hear us? We will not harm you. This lady is your sister, who has come to find and take care of you.”
The girl stared at me. “We haven’t got a sister. Our ma did the croak, and Granny can’t take us.”
“I am your half sister,” I said. “Your father is my father too.”
The boy kicked again. “Lady, our pa be the devil. Ma said so.”
Georgina intervened. “Captain, Cassandra, let us get the children home. There will be time for explanations after they’ve been bathed and fed.”
At her words, the girl glanced from her to me. “Fed? You truly have food for us, lady?”
“I do indeed,” I replied. “Stop fussing, and you will soon have all the food you can desire.”
The ensuing afternoon was harrowing. When we reached home, we fed the children in the kitchen and were horrified at their complete freedom from any form of manners. After they had gobbled bread, butter, milk, and raspberry tarts, Georgina and I sat at the table with them to attempt a bit of conversation.
“Well, children,” I began, “now that you have had a lovely luncheon, perhaps you can tell us your names.”
They stared at me with round, curious eyes.
“What did your mother name you?” asked Georgina.
“Don’t remember,” said the boy with a shrug.
“Come now,” I admonished, “these games will not do. Surely you know your names.”
“My name is Paulina,” said the girl, “but Brother calls me Paulie.”
I smiled at her. “Thank you, Paulina. It is a lovely name.”
“And what is your brother’s name?” asked Georgina.
“It’s Percival,” cried the boy. “And I don’t like it.”
“That’s a fine old English name,” said Georgina. “But we can call you Percy, if you prefer.”
“Percy and Paulie,” I said. “How very charming!”
“You talk funny,” commented Percy.
“No, Brother. She talks like a lady. And she’s my sister, so I can be a lady too.”
Percy cackled and kicked his sister’s chair.
“You certainly will be a lady,” I said to Paulie with a smile. “You are the daughter of a baronet, and you have a right to call yourself a lady.”
Paulina smiled smugly at her brother, but he had lost interest in the conversation. “Missus,” said Percy to Georgina, “can I pat your fine horses?”
“Of course you may,” said Georgina, “but first there is a little matter of getting you and your sister clean and tidy.”
A tub was drawn, but the twins backed away from the swirling warm water, shaking and gasping. They had probably never been bathed, and they were certainly unwilling to begin. Mrs. Cacker hopped in the tub fully clothed to encourage them, but that made them scream and kick. Georgina managed to get Mrs. Cacker out of the tub while I attempted to talk the children into divesting themselves of their filthy garments. Hiram Dodge had been sent to the shops to try to find some ready-made clothing that would fit them.
“Percy,” I pleaded, “you are a very brave boy, I am sure. Will you step out of your clothes and into the warm water? You can show Paulie there’s nothing to fear.”
The appeal to his masculine pride worked. He pulled off his filthy shirt, ripped trousers, and worn shoes. I did not try to help him; I let him take his time getting into the tub. I knew he would come to enjoy splashing about, and he did. Paulie watched her brother and then stuck a tentative toe into the water. Percy grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside him, as she shrieked. We gave them some tin cups to play with, and they had a fine time. They hollered loudly when we washed their hair with carbolic soap and scrubbed their faces, but the deeds were eventually done, after which Georgina and I collapsed on the floor, soaked and exhausted.
But then how adorable they were, dressed in their new clothes, with their hair brushed and trimmed! Their pride showed in their bright eyes and smiles as we held a mirror for them. They were handsome children, which was not surprising as Sir Winslow Tenley had always been reckoned very handsome and Isabella was reputed to have been a beauty.
The following week was a busy one, as Georgina and I set about establishing a proper household for the children. My allowance was generous enough for me to hire a governess for the twins. The process of teaching these children manners and speech would be a lengthy one, but they were only six, young enough to forget their old ways.
Chapter Ten
I selected a pretty, friendly young woman, Miss Deirdre Little, to be the children’s nanny. She moved in at the end of the week. This allowed me the freedom to go about with Georgina and be the companion she had hoped I would be. The weeks flew by as we met with museum directors and art purveyors, dined with friends, took the warm baths, shopped, and enjoyed all the city had to offer.
One evening a few days before we were to depart for Caemre, Georgina and I were dining together in the Rabbit’s Ear Inne, escorted by Captain Blake and a married couple, Sir Robert and Lady Botts. The Bottses were not in the society of Bath, Georgina informed me preceding their arrival, because Sir Robert had married his family’s housemaid.
“Although his family could not prevent him from receiving the title,” added Georgina, “they have disdained to notice him or his wife.”
I felt for Sir Robert, knowing the pain of being dismissed in disgrace, but he seemed no worse in his spirits for his ordeal. Lady Botts was a lovely, kindly, gentle creature, who spoke in a soft voice. Her passionate interest was advocating for relief for the poor, and she was anxious to hear about the rescue of my little brother and sister.
When the table had been cleared and we were enjoying coffee, a gentleman stepped to the table and greeted Sir Robert, who introduced him to us as Mr. Eliot Sparkman. Georgina invited him to join us. He placed himself next to me with a courtly little bow. He was an intriguing man, with very black hair and very pale skin. He was tall and slender and, one suspected from the expression of his eyes, highly intelligent.
“My friend Sparkman,” said Sir Robert, when liqueurs ha
d been ordered, “has an unusual profession.”
“Indeed?” spoke Georgina and I together. “Do tell us,” I added.
We all regarded Sparkman expectantly, but he sipped his drink and said nothing. This did not deter Sir Robert. He grinned and slapped his friend on the back. “He is a private detective!”
“That is fascinating,” we all agreed. “Can you tell us of some of your cases?”
Sparkman regarded each of us in turn. “To do so would violate the privacy of the persons I serve, but I will speak of one case, for you may very well have information I can use. The individual is a member of the Bath ton and may be known to you, Lady Lovell.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” she replied, “for I avoid the ton whenever possible.”
“Then one or another of your acquaintance may know him. His name is Bartholomew Loch.”
I must have gasped, for Mr. Sparkman turned to me. “Do you know the gentleman, Mrs. Stanfield?”
I breathed hard. “Yes…I am acquainted with Mr. Loch. His cousin, now deceased, was married to my sister.”
Mr. Sparkman’s interest was obviously piqued, for he set his goblet on the table and gave me his full attention. “May I ask where and when you last saw Mr. Loch?”
Heat rose to my face. Bart’s sister and uncle had no doubt informed Sparkman of Bart’s shenanigans with a married lady. In a moment, he would realize the lady was me. Wide-eyed and pale, I glanced at Georgina.
“Mr. Sparkman, Sir Robert, Lady Botts—I am afraid we must be going. Captain Blake, pray be seated. Dodge will see us home safely.” Georgina rose and gathered her reticule.
Sparkman rose also. “Lady Lovell, pray wait. I have questions for this lady.”
Georgina quickly thrust a card into his hand. “You may call tomorrow, sir. Good night, all.”
I followed Georgina out of the inn without wasting a moment. Dodge was dozing in the driver’s seat. Georgina turned to me. “Get in the carriage. Quickly, before he pursues us.”
I jumped in. Georgina awakened Dodge, and we were off.
Mr. Sparkman was prompt the next morning, presenting himself at the front door at ten. By that time, Georgina and I had discussed what he should and should not be told.
