Читать книгу A Regency Courtesan's Pride - Ann Lethbridge - Страница 12

Merry hurried along the corridor. She knew why she was hurrying. It had nothing to do with talking to the women and everything to do with escape. From him.

Not because she was attracted to him, because that part she could handle. Indeed, it was rather pleasant being looked at with desire. But it was the other part that caused her unease. Every now and then, when he looked at her with those intense dark eyes, she had the feeling he could see her innermost thoughts, whereas he seemed to hold himself very much at a distance because he really didn’t approve.

The sooner he was gone the better.

She pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked the door to what had once been the nursery. Voices from an open door let her know where she would find Caro and her charges. She entered the day room. Caro faced the two women sitting at desks along with Thomas, Caro’s six-year-old son, writing his letters on a slate. The women each held a book. Beth was reading, slowly sounding out the words. She stopped the moment Merry entered.

Looking at the two women, one would never guess their original profession. Their faces shone with good health and cleanliness. They wore the modest practical clothing of the women who worked at the mills.

‘Good morning, ladies,’ Merry said smiling.

‘Good morning, Miss Draycott,’ they chorused.

‘Good morning,’ Caroline said. Her gaze held curiosity. Wondering about last night, no doubt.

‘If I could have your attention,’ Merry said, to the room at large. ‘Because of the snow, we have a guest at Draycott House. I gather you ladies met him this morning. I think it would be best if you remained in this wing until his departure.’

Beth giggled.

Jane frowned. ‘Ashamed of us, then, are you? Is that how it’s to be?’

Heat stung Merry’s cheeks. Jane was not the easiest woman to deal with, despite the fact that she’d sought out Caro’s help on her own account. Jane had come north from London and was far more worldly than Beth, or the other girls they had rescued. And she’d appointed herself as their leader. The other girls had fled after the fire—Jane and Beth were all that were left of the soiled doves they’d been trying to help.

‘I am not ashamed,’ Merry said firmly. ‘It is for your protection. I don’t know this gentleman very well and I do not want any misunderstanding.’

Jane curled her lips. ‘She wants to keep him all to herself, that’s what it is.’

‘Enough, Jane,’ Caro said.

Jane sniffed. ‘I don’t care about no fancy man. What I wants to know is when do we get a proper job, instead of cleaning your grates?’

In other words, was her meeting successful? The townspeople had called the house in town Draycott’s whorehouse and had thrown bricks and stones through the windows. Finally a torch had been thrown, starting a fire and forcing them to flee. The meeting yesterday had been supposed to bring the other mill owners over to her side.

The two women looked at her hopefully. ‘It’s bloody awful here,’ Jane said. ‘No shops. Nought to do ‘cept readin'.’

‘I like it,’ Beth said stoutly. She’d grown up in the country. Most of the other girls they’d rescued were town girls, daughters of shopkeepers and millworkers who had taken a wrong turn and been cast out on to the streets to make their way as best they could. All had turned to the oldest profession known to women.

When Caro, who had narrowly missed turning to the same calling out of desperation, had proposed Merry use her money and her influence to help some of these women, Merry had readily agreed. She hadn’t expected the resentment of the community. They seemed to believe the presence of these women would taint them and their families.

They’d driven the girls off.

She glanced over at Caro, who looked sad, but offered a supporting smile. ‘I wasn’t able to meet with them yesterday.’

Jane’s mouth turned sullen. ‘Too busy enjoying yerself with yer fancy man.’

‘He is a gentleman,’ Merry said. ‘He provided me assistance on the road and he will be leaving as soon as the snow is passable.’

‘Gentlemen are the best,’ Beth said, as if repeating a lesson by rote. ‘They’s polite and don’t have no pox.’

‘'Course they do,’ Jane said.

Caroline rapped on her desk with her ruler. ‘Ladies, please. This kind of talk is not helpful.’ She glanced at Thomas, who had stopped writing and was listening with a furrow between his fair brows. ‘Miss Draycott will find you work and a place to live as soon as she is able. In the meantime, you are being paid to learn to read and write.’

A groan from Beth made Merry smile.

None of the girls had found the concept of reading and writing particularly relevant. Only by offering them a wage had she been able to convince them to try when they’d moved into the house in Skepton. They’d been making great strides until forced to run for their lives. Caro insisted these two continue while they stayed with Merry. If nothing else, they would be able to read a newspaper and their employment contract before they signed it.

If they could find jobs.

‘What about the grocer’s in the High Street?’ Beth asked. Her father had owned a shop, but when he found out she was pregnant, he’d turned her out. The boy had run away to sea and left her to fend for herself. If she couldn’t support herself respectably, she would never get her child back from the orphanage. ‘He’s got a sign in the winder for a shop assistant.’

No one in Skepton seemed willing to risk employing Draycott’s whores, no matter how clean they were or how well behaved. The townspeople claimed they would be a bad influence on the men as well as the women.

Merry pressed her lips together. ‘I told him of your experience, but he said he’d changed his mind.’ She’d even threatened to stop purchasing from him, but then he told her his fear of the mob tearing his shop apart. What could she say?

Jane’s lip curled. ‘See. I told you it was all a farradiddle.’

‘They think we’ll steal them blind,’ Beth said.

It was an outbreak of burglaries that had turned the townspeople violent, even after Caro told the constable she could account for all her girls at the time of the crimes.

‘I’m leaving at the end of t’month,’ Jane said. ‘There’s good money to be made in London. Abbesses always looking for new blood. Once the weather breaks, I can walk there in a fortnight.’

‘How much does a girl make in Lunnon?’ Beth asked.

‘A fortune if you finds the right man,’ Jane said. ‘Dripping with jewels and furs, some of the girls are.’

Beth’s eyes grew round.

‘It is not quite like that,’ Caro said. ‘Very few girls meet that kind of man. And often they cast them off, the way they throw out old clothes.’

‘What would you know about it?’ Jane sneered.

Caroline coloured. ‘I have eyes.’

Merry didn’t care much for Jane. Gribble had found her slipping a silver teaspoon in her pocket. Caro had reminded her that she might have done the same, if she had been in Jane’s situation.

Damn it. If Merry didn’t do something soon, these two women would slip back into their old ways.

A feeling of inadequacy swamped her. Grandfather would have been able to deal with the mill owners and the shopkeepers. He wouldn’t have been locked out of the meeting.

Because he was a man.

If only Prentice would stand up to them.

As a manager, Prentice had very little clout. He could speak on her behalf, but even though he was the manager of the largest mill in Yorkshire, he wasn’t the owner.

The only way she would ever have a voice in those meetings was if she was married. And then that voice would go to her husband.

Which brought her right back to the mad idea she’d had this morning—and rejected before it was fully formed. How she could have let such an idea creep into her mind, she didn’t know.

‘I’ll find a way to bring them around,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry.’ But how?

Merry squeezed her eyes shut, then looked at the document, forcing herself to read the figures again. The mill was in trouble.

How had it happened so quickly?

The door opened and Caro glided in as if she walked on air. Even on a good day, Merry galumphed around, as Grandfather always said.

But then Caro was as small and delicate as Merry was tall and big boned.

She smiled at her friend. ‘Lessons over?’

‘Yes. I’ve left them with some needlework. There are sheets in need of turning.’

‘They really don’t have to work for their board, you know.’

‘I know.’ Caro clasped her hands together. ‘But it does them good to keep occupied as well as giving them a feeling of worth. They are not bad women. Only misguided.’

‘Of course.’

‘Although I’m a bit worried about Jane. I think she’d sell her grandmother for a shilling.’

‘Probably less.’

They laughed.

‘How soon can we rebuild the house?’ Caroline asked. ‘Is it possible?’

‘Not until the snow clears, I’m afraid.’

‘I suppose Mr Prentice did his best?’ Caro sounded doubtful.

‘I’m sure he did. Although he doesn’t feel as strongly about finding the girls work as we do, he has always followed my instructions.’

‘As far as you know.’

‘Your biases are showing.’

‘He’s too nice. Too friendly.’

Merry sighed. ‘He’s young. He tries too hard and I wish Grandfather’s old manager had stayed on. He was crusty, but he knew everything there was to know about wool. He would have known how to handle the other mill owners.’

‘Did he retire?’

All the old anger returned in a hot rush. Her hands curled into fists. ‘He didn’t want to work for a woman. Said if I got married he’d be happy to come back.’ She’d been terribly hurt.

‘Oh, Merry. That is ridiculous.’

‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘Sometimes I wonder if I’m making a mistake.’

‘Why should you give up something you’ve worked so hard at all these years?’

‘Grandfather always used to say I was just as good as a son. But honestly

Caroline winced. ‘You are as good. Clearly you are.’

It wasn’t the first time they’d discussed the appropriate roles for men and women, and in the past they’d been in accord. Merry glanced down at the figures in her book. Was she wrong after all?

‘We will find a way,’ Caro said. ‘I didn’t have a chance to ask you how your game of billiards went. You were in high form last night.’

Merry felt heat creep up the back of her neck. ‘He won.’

‘Then I suppose you will be wanting a rematch this evening?’

Hardly. ‘Perhaps you’d care to join us for a game of cards.’

‘You need four for cards,’ Caro said.

‘We could ask Jane.’

Caroline giggled. ‘Poor Tonbridge. He wouldn’t know what hit him.’

Jane had fleeced the other girls of their pin money the first night she arrived at the house in town. Merry had the feeling she would not succeed with his lordship, but was not going to put her theory to the test.

‘Perhaps I’ll ask him to play chess.’ And there would be no removal of garments either. Her insides fluttered pleasurably as the image of his naked chest popped into her mind. Perhaps she should go straight to bed.

She almost groaned at the unfortunate thoughts that idea conjured. It would be better if she’d never known the pleasures a man could bring to a woman.

‘You will join us for dinner, though?’ Merry asked. ‘I can hardly entertain him alone.’

‘Naturally. I will see you in the drawing room at six as usual.’

Caro glided silently out of the room and Merry turned back to her accounts. It was only to be expected that the mill wouldn’t be as profitable as it had been under her grandfather. The army no longer needed the number of uniforms they’d required during the wars and the clothiers had cut back on the quantities of cloth they bought from the mill. If things didn’t improve, soon, she’d have to cut back on the number of workers she employed. With the price of bread continually rising, even those fully employed were barely surviving.

Nothing but problems, no matter which way she turned.

She began adding the column of figures again. The door opened. With a sigh, she looked up.

Tonbridge. The aristocratic lines of his face stark in the cold light from the window. Gorgeous. She blinked.

‘Ready for our sleigh ride?’ he asked. ‘I have taken the liberty of requesting the horses put to.’

Oh, she had promised, hadn’t she? She glanced out of the window. No help from the weather. It looked like a perfect afternoon.

‘It would be good to get some fresh air,’ he said, seeing her hesitation. ‘I want to take a look at your phaeton. Make sure it isn’t a hazard to other travellers.’

‘Oh, no, really. You did enough yesterday.’ The image of him heaving the carriage out of the way returned. One would never guess he hid such strength beneath the dark burgundy superfine of his coat. Why did she have to think about that now? ‘Jed will see to it.’

His gaze drifted to the papers. He hesitated a fraction, then gave her a boyish grin. The kind of grin that no doubt made ladies of the ton swoon. And didn’t do such a bad job on her either. ‘All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl.’

Her heart gave a small thud of excitement. Her knees had the consistency of mashed turnip as the force of his charming smile hit her full on. Escaping from her account books sounded terribly tempting. Temptation seemed to personify this man.

‘All right. Why not?’ Decision made, she leaped to her feet. ‘But the sleigh hasn’t been used for years.’

A vague impression of the sharp bite of the wind on her cheeks and the feel of her parents’ large, warm bodies on either side of her teased at her mind.

And laughter. So much laughter.

‘It’s been well maintained, like everything else in your stables,’ he said.

‘Jed wouldn’t have it any other way. I know he is mortified by that axle.’

A shadow flickered over his face. ‘It can happen to the best-maintained equipages, as he well knows, and so I will assure him if you wish. Would Mrs Falkner care to accompany us? The sleigh easily holds four.’

‘I will ask her.’

She suddenly felt lighter, as if the problems looming over her these past few days had disappeared, or at least become less monstrous. ‘It will be fun.’