Beyond Rubies (Daughters of Sin Book 4) (32 page)

She had to keep reminding herself just how lucky she was, for her heart beat nervously, and her hands felt clammy and shaking. She hadn’t spent the night with Nash and had tossed and turned, slipping into a short and feverish sleep at dawn.

“Lord Nash is a very lucky man,” Dorcas said softly as they sat together in the carriage, rocking gently over the cobblestones. “I ‘ope ‘e realizes that.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Kitty objected. “How many men of his station marry so low if they choose to marry for love?”

She didn’t like the woebegone looks Dorcas kept sending her as they progressed in a deepening silence. It was hard not to snap at her, but Kitty wasn’t going to sour the mood any further.

Organ music struck up on cue as she and Dorcas arrived at the doorway of St Margaret’s, and at last Kitty felt as if this was not just a pipedream, but rather her dream come true. This was the sound her own mother had heard, perhaps, more than twenty years ago when she progressed down the aisle on her father’s arm, to marry her father, Lord Partington. But there had been no bridegroom waiting for her.

Anxiously, Kitty peered into the dim recesses of the church, and her heart lurched to see Nash, in company with another gentleman, staring at the priest. So it was true. She
would
be married. Legally. Finally, a Miss Hazlett was going to get a ring on her finger, and not only enjoy the love of a good man, but respectability for herself and her children.

Nash turned when she was a few yards away, his expression full of love. He looked so handsome, his fine-featured face with its small scar below the eye relaxing into a smile of hope and adoration that made Kitty’s belly cleave. She smiled back at him warmly, as she made her approach, turning slightly when she heard footsteps behind her. Another guest.

She swallowed, and her heart hitched a little. Silverton had come to honor their union. But she was able to put aside anything she might have felt for him as she concentrated on the fact that Nash loved her. And he loved her enough to marry her.

Silverton slipped into a pew on the right-hand side while Kitty continued her progress down the aisle.

Nash gripped the tips of her fingers in a light reassurance as she joined his side.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as the vicar began to intone the service, his strong voice filling the holy space with his solemn words.

And then Nash was saying his vows, Kitty glancing over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps, which muffled the words.

Shocked, she saw her father advancing, and looked nervously at Nash, still murmuring “...take thee, Catherine Jane Hazlett, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer...”

So her father had come to see her in her finest hour. He should be pleased that she was marrying as her mother ought to have married him, though what he had heard about the celebrated actress, Kitty La Bijou, she feared to know.

Nash was still speaking, binding himself to her for eternity“...in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

She realized her father hadn’t slipped into a pew, and now his footsteps were joined by another pair. Not her mother’s for these, too, belonged to a male the way they clattered with loud purpose into the church, interrupting proceedings, and a voice rose above the vicar’s, “That boy has no authority to wed before he’s twenty-five, and is no gentleman if he’s told the lady otherwise!”

The vicar stopped speaking; Nash swung his head around, crying out, “Father! How dare you?” and Kitty stared with horror at the young man next to her who now defended himself.

“Not true, Father!” Angrily, he faced his father while Kitty’s own barked, “I will not see my daughter tricked into a farce of a marriage, but nor would I see her marry above her station.”

“Father!” Kitty cried as devastation threatened to undo her a second time.

Lord Partington had risen, and now he clapped his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t take it amiss, my girl. It ain’t that I don’t love you any less than the others, and I’m aware that the wrong I did your mother has blighted your prospects.”

It was a double blow.  The two men who should have given her the greatest support had pulled any foundation for future happiness from beneath her feet.

With a gasp, Kitty spun around, avoiding Nash’s outstretched arm and his plea to believe him. Gathering up her train in a bundle, she pushed past her father who tried to grip her hand in passing, but she tugged herself free, picking up her skirts, running only faster as she heard the cries behind her to stop.

Stop? For what? For whom? Her father who had given her nothing except a lineage to be ashamed of? For Nash who claimed to love her but who had deceived her?

“Kitty, come back! Believe me—”

Believe him? She could never believe anyone again. Vaguely, she glimpsed Lord Silverton’s shocked expression as he, too, rose from the pew.

Kitty didn’t stop. She fled into the street, nearly slipping on the slick cobbles, righting herself and plunging beneath the hooves of a passing hackney. Regaining her footing, she hastily snatched up the part of her train that had fallen in the mud, and continued her mad dash along the pavement, coming alongside the carriage which she saw had slowed.

The door opened, and a face peered out. “Miss, do yer need ‘elp? Why, if it ain’t Kitty La Bijou. Lawks, get in, girlie! Yer look like yers fleein’ from the divil, yer do!”

Kitty could hear running footsteps behind her, gaining, and with a surge of effort, she gripped the woman’s outstretched hand as the carriage continued its progress. For a few seconds, she sailed through the air as her feet left the ground. 

Then she was dragged into the carriage, the door was slammed shut, and she was half lying across the seat, her eyes closed as she drew breath at last.

“Mrs. Mobbs!” she exclaimed when she blinked. “Good heavens! What are you doing here?”

“More to the point, what are yer doin’ runnin’ through the streets o’ London in a weddin’ dress, if me eyes don’t deceive me, an’ wearin’ the finest ruby necklace I ever did see.”

“Lord Nash gave it to me...the day he asked me to marry him.” Her voice caught, and miserably she dropped her head to look at her hands, unadorned by his wedding ring and not likely to receive one, ever again.

“I know that, me dear.”

Kitty jerked her head up. “You know it?”

Mrs. Mobbs nodded. “Yer’ve jest run away from the church, ‘aven’t yer? Found out that ‘e bought it from Maggie Montgomery fer a very reasonable sum, eh, an’ didn’t like the fact ‘e still enjoys visitin’ some o’ the girls?” She shrugged. “Not that ‘e’s done it fer a very long time. Not since the night ‘e bought the ruby necklace, in fact. Said ‘e were givin’ up other women forever, now he’d found yer.”

Mrs. Mobbs leaned across to pat Kitty’s shoulder in a motherly fashion. “There, told yer the truth ‘bout how ‘e feels, so now yer can go back if yer wants. Always did ‘ave a soft spot for yer, girlie.”

Kitty stared, feeling even worse after her supposedly bolstering speech. “He bought it from a...brothel?”

“Don’t reckon Maggie likes her ‘stablishment referred to in such terms,” Mrs. Mobbs said, warningly. “Now, if yer don’t want ter go back ter the church, yer can come wiv me, for yer can’t say I didn’t get yer a chance ter get yer way wiv ‘is Lordship after all.”

The carriage had drawn to a halt down a side street, and Mrs. Mobbs was reaching down on the floor for what Kitty now saw was a tiny baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes and sleeping soundly.

“’Ere, yer take it,” the woman said, cupping Kitty’s elbow and leading her through a door. “It’s a good little ‘un, this ‘un is. Borned of a poor scullery maid, she were, so Maggie Montgomery’s goin’ to find the bonny lad a nice spot in the country. I jest bin to pick ‘im up. That’s right, warm yerself by the fire.”

It was only then, and the recognition of the wide-eyed scullery maid who was passing with a pail of water, that Kitty realized she was in Maggie Montomery’s establishment. Horrified, she looked about her, still clutching the baby, which she thrust into Mrs. Mobbs’ arms.

“Why have you taken me here? I must go!”

“I ain’t taken yer anywhere. I jest gave yer a carriage ride to save yer from certain individuals yer were fleein’ from. No need ter accuse me o’ sommat I ain’t done,” Mrs. Mobbs defended herself. “Ah, Maggie, look who I picked up. And it were more than jest the babe.”

With her heart in her mouth, Kitty stared between the two women: Mrs. Mobbs, slatternly as ever with her greasy hair spilling out from her filthy mob cab, and her enormous breasts spilling out of the top of her print gown; and Mrs. Montgomery, magnificently upholstered, her icy gaze lit up with unusual warmth as she purred, “Kitty La Bijou. We meet at last. Your exploits are legendary, and you have caused me more than a little trouble lately with regard to a certain ruby necklace which I see you happily still have in your possession.” She looked at Kitty’s muddy slippers, the torn netting of her embroidered train, and her grubby gloves and made a sympathetic tutting noise.

“It’s clear you need to rest, my poor girl. Follow me, and I shall find you a room ...while we decide what to do with you.”

I
t was thanks to Dorcas that Silverton had any idea of where to set his footsteps. She was the fleetest of foot, initially, but then she’d been carrying her mistress’s train, and her heart was no doubt in accord with Kitty’s.

Nevertheless, when Silverton reached the corner where Dorcas was staring into the distance, and they had long since left Lord Nash and his father and Kitty’s father behind, the young maid turned to him with real fear in her eyes.

“That were Maggie Montgomery’s carriage,” she whispered. “I recognized the faded insignia. She got it cheap from one o’ ‘er clients. When the door opened I saw the blue velvet upholstery, too. Miss Kitty’s gone and bin took by Maggie Montgomery.”

Silverton was shocked, but by no means as downcast as Dorcas.

“They can hardly keep her a prisoner against her will, Dorcas.” But then he understood the girl’s fear. That’s exactly what they’d done to her.

“You got ter save ’er, m’lord. You can’t let ‘ make her sign a contract.”

Silverton smiled kindly at the girl. “I’ll save her, Dorcas. They can’t do anything to Kitty she doesn’t want. Believe me, once we march right up to Maggie’s and demand that they let her go, Kitty will be allowed free, and then she’ll come with me, and everything will be all right.”

“I ain’t goin’ near there. I can’t, m’lord. An yet...Kitty needs me.”

“She’ll need you when she wants a good maid to help her with all those things a lady needs, and you’ll be there, eh, Dorcas.” He patted her shoulder. “Have no fear for her safety. Kitty is probably drinking tea and in no danger at all.”

Dorcas looked dubiously up the road. “An afta yer get ‘er out? Where’ll she go, m’lord? Where will
I
go?”

“Why, you’ll come to me, of course. Kitty always comes to me when she needs help.” The knowledge suddenly filled him with the greatest excitement. And desire. Kitty needed his help. And she had nowhere to go but home to be with him.

Home to be with him. Where she belonged. She desired him as much—more—than she did Lord Nash. She’d admitted it numerous times; the only reason she’d chosen Nash was because he offered her marriage. Well, Silverton could offer her much more than Nash when it came to matters of the heart.

With a thrill that coursed throughout his entire body and made him feel quite lightheaded with joy, he turned his footsteps towards Soho.

He was not surprised by the unctuous welcome he received when he was shown into Maggie Montgomery’s sitting room.

“Lord Silverton, to what do I owe this pleasure?” she purred, pouring them both a snifter of brandy.

“I’ve come to fetch Kitty La Bijou.” With a smile, he tossed back the shot, its welcome warmth feeding his anticipation. Soon he’d have Kitty all to himself. Forever and always. He’d set her up in a handsome townhouse, and he’d shower her with all the gowns and jewels she could desire.

He knew he ought not to think in this manner with Miss Mandelton due to arrive in London in the next month. But Kitty needed him. He could not fail her now.

Guilt over what he owed Miss Mandelton could wait, and he knew he’d feel it keenly. After all, Miss Mandelton needed him too. They needed each other.

She needed a husband, and he needed a wife. A wife who would cause no scandal; who would be easily accepted into society. He had a duty to his parents, to his family name. He’d never been more shocked than to learn that Lord Partington was Kitty’s father, but even Lord Partington had understood it was impossible for Kitty, a bastard, to marry a peer of the realm.

“Miss La Bijou?” Maggie looked discomposed for the first time. “You’ve come here for her?”

“Yes, I saw her. And now I’d like you to take me to her.”

He rose, and Maggie rose also, frowning. “There is a minor matter that needs attending to first.” She ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip. “You see, it concerns a ruby necklace. A very valuable ruby necklace. There is a gentleman on his way to claim it. Miss La Bijou has wrongfully acquired this valuable item, and I shall be out of pocket if I simply hand the young lady, still wearing the necklace, into your hands, my lord.” Her smiled gained confidence as she no doubt took in his anxiety to be reunited with Kitty. “No need to look so concerned. Yes, this gentleman ain’t one you’ve a mind to see, I’d wager, but you were ‘ere first an’ I reckon if you can offer me the right kind o’ money we can both say goodbye feelin’ happy ‘bout matters.”

***

K
itty sat hunched miserably on the wrought-iron double bed with its blue satin coverlet and comfortable cushions. A small fire lit the grate. It looked as if the room were awaiting guests.

But surely not her.

And she surely did not want to be here.

She put her hands up to cover her face and tried not to cry. How could her life have spiraled downhill so quickly? Half an hour ago she would have married Lord Nash, had it not been for his treachery. And now she was here, a prisoner in a brothel. Would she be forcibly coerced into becoming one of Maggie’s girls? It wasn’t possible.