Endure My Heart (17 page)

“So if you would be willing to help out in little ways—convince Mr. Williams, for instance, that you are indeed an invalid [it had been decided she would be invalidish] if he comes snooping around, and just generally keep an eye on things, you know...”

“A light at the window! The gentlemen bringing the stuff in from the sea will require a signal, for the cave will be impossible to find in the dark.”

“Yes, little things like that—then I can pay you more than the sum we spoke of.”

“How much?” she asked, her eyes alight.

“Same as the gentlemen. Ten shillings a trip, on top of the sum we spoke of before. And of course I shall take care of the running of the house—fuel, a bit of furniture, and so on.”

“That’s grand of you, dearie. Really generous, and you needn’t fear I’d ever say a word, for I’ll be in it as deep as any of them, won’t I? ‘We’re all for nubbin cheat together,’ my pa used to say. “If the law don’t get you, the gentlemen will,’ was the way they put it to anyone that had a thought of squealing.”

All the details were settled; then she turned around and threw a spanner at me. She wanted a companion—someone to talk to. A backhouse boy had already been agreed upon to do the heavy work and, more importantly, run errands. This was not what she had in mind. She’d be lonesome all alone in that great hulk of a house. Who would not? She already had her companion in her eye. I feared it would be a man, for her conversation and her wandering eyes made it perfectly clear she was not blind to the attractions of the opposite sex. She was
not
a member of the muslin company, she insisted, but a virtuous woman.

Still, I think her virtue had as many lives as a cat. My relief was great to hear it was her sister she wanted. The sister was in service at a fancy home in London—a widow, childless. I heard the whole history but it is irrelevant to us. She brought her around, ignorant of the whole affair, for me to inspect. Pearl’s hair was undyed and her outfit was neat and plain, but in other respects the women were somewhat similar. They had lit out from home thirty years ago together and gone their separate ways in London, keeping in touch, but leading very different lives. I could see no moral to be gained in comparing their fates. All Pearl’s virtue and hard work ought to have led to some better reward than being every jot as poor as Rose Marie at the end of the thirty years, but it was not the case.

Of the two, I think Rose Marie had the more interesting life, but that is perhaps my own prejudice speaking. I would rather taste the dregs and lees along with the top of the bottle than not have a sip at all. The talk was led subtly to smuggling, at which point Pearl abandoned her virtue and stood up for her father. It was good enough. In for a penny, in for a pound. I hired Pearl as well as Rose Marie Mettel, bringing double wrath down on my head from Edna. I really do not know why Pearl agreed to go along with us. Boredom with thirty years of running to answer bells perhaps.

All the way home, we devised a background for the sisters, to account to the villagers for their taking over the Eyrie. Rose Marie was an outgoing woman, and artful enough to make anyone believe anything. She was to be nurse-companion of all work to her pseudo-employer, whom we christened Miss Silver, due to her metallic name. Rose Marie became Miss Lock.

Miss Lock was free to jaunter into town whenever she wished. She was to be an ardent churchgoer so she could pop in to see me when she was there, should we have any business to discuss. My greatest regret was that she could not live in the town, for I was infinitely amused by her conversation and manner.

We were not so naive as to enter town on the same coach as the sisters, Edna and I, nor even on the same day. The women stayed overnight at Colchester, to fill out their wardrobes for their roles, and follow us the next day to Salford.

“You’ll be lucky if you see a sign of that pair, giving them five pounds. They’ll skip back to London, and that will be the end of them. Good riddance too. Unless they take it into their heads to blackmail you,” she added as an afterthought.

The next evening, however, the rumor was buzzing around town that an invalid had moved into the Eyrie. She had become, during the day, a sister to the owner, Mr. Simon. Silver was close enough to Simon to have given birth to this invention. I regretted I had not thought of so logical a thing myself, and would inform the sisters of the change of name on the first opportunity.

With my next delivery only three days away—a special delivery too, for I had managed to get a load of cognac, more profitable than cheaper brandy—I had to contact the higgler. When he came to pick up Edna’s glass beads, I told him we would require Jed Foster’s fishing smack to be tethered at the Eyrie cave. Jemmie was round-eyed with delight at my having discovered Miss Marjoram’s secret, and I was stern in making him realize the importance of the gentlemen approaching the spot with the greatest stealth, to prevent Williams from becoming suspicious of it. He hit on the capital idea of providing fresh commodities to the women—milk, butter, eggs and so on—in his role of higgler, thus giving me another line to them. It was logical he pick them up as clients. It had occurred to him even before he knew their real reason for being there. Jemmie always answered the door before opportunity knocked. The new residents settled into Salford without a single embarrassing question arising.

Chapter Thirteen

I was curious
in the extreme to discover whether Mr. Williams had brought a wife back to town with him. When no one said a word about such an occurrence, I assumed he had done no more than visit his fiancée. I felt if he had any sensitivity or conscience at all, he would let our romance die a natural death. He proved to be without either one.

Our first meeting, which occurred on the second day I was back, was taken up with mutual and insincere repinings at our having failed to find each other in the city. He darted over at noon hour “the
minute
I heard you were back! You might have let me know last night.” This was uttered with a wounded countenance, to denote the lover’s chagrin.

There was more lover-like scolding for my negligence. “Why did you not send a message to me at Hadley’s? You knew I was there. How was I to know to which of the dozens of hotels you went when your aunt fell ill, and was unable to make the trip?”

I had to give him some excuse for Mrs. Harvey’s not being at Portman Square, and had given her a bad case of flu. “Was it not wretched timing on her part?” I asked.

“Wretched cruelty on yours, not to notify me of the change of plans. I had half a dozen outings planned for us.”

“What of all your business meetings?”

“They were not so long as I feared. I sat through that demmed farce at Drury Lane two times, hoping to see you. Had you been anxious for my escort, you might have sent a note around to me,” he complained, in jealous, offended accents.

“I thought we might bump into each other somewhere or other,” I replied, dismissing it as a mere detail.

“I went to six hotels looking for you. Where the devil did you stay?”

“Stephen’s,” I answered, not naming Storms, which was not quite grand enough to boast of.

“I was sure you would be at Grillons. It’s a nice spot. Try it next time. I kept hoping you might be at Hadley’s ball— that your aunt might have arranged it in some manner.”

“How was the ball? Did you stand up with Lady Lucy?”

“Of course,” he answered, without so much as a blush or a batting of the lashes. “Well—a guest in the house, naturally I must.”

He did not realize it, I think, but there was a defensive note in that last speech. “It must have been a pleasure as well as a duty, Mr. Williams. You described her as a vivacious, pretty girl, if I recall. Why, if you look sharp, you might make a match with her,” I said archly.

“I am not at all interested in making a match with
her,”
he told me, bold as brass, while he grabbed my two hands and gazed into my eyes with a meaningful look. “And I remember—or did I dream it—that you were to call me Stanley when we are alone.”

“It was no dream, Stanley. I remember very well that it was only when we were alone you wished for the intimacy. I wonder why that should be?”

“I thought you understood why. Until I have established myself in a respectable line of employment, I do not wish the gossip-mongers saying Miss Anderson has lowered herself to make an alliance with a drapery merchant. I would like to put a ring on your finger, and announce our engagement today. I would like it very much, Mab,” he said in a soft voice. His head inclined a little toward mine. I thought he was going to kiss me, right there in the saloon in the middle of the day with all the doors open, and Edna and Andrew somewhere about.

“How did the business talks with Lord Hadley go? Will it be much longer you must remain so far beneath my touch?” I asked, with a fond look to indicate I had no aversion even to a draper.

“Excellent. We had very fruitful talks. As soon as the Owenses return, I am to go to him in London.”

“There is no talk of the Owenses returning?”

“Not just yet,” he replied, frowning. “Her recovery is slower than we had hoped. By the way, Mab, I have been wanting to ask you about that Porson fellow who was making those very annoying statements at your party. He behaves as though he owns you.”

“I don’t think he will any more. I gave him a sharp set-down.”

“I didn’t like the cut of him above half. Low-minded type. Oh, we have some newcomers here in Salford. Have you met them?”

“I heard the Eyrie is rented. Two women, I understand.”

“A lady and her nurse-companion. The latter was in the shop. She seems a lively soul, vulgar as can be. I liked her.” Then he laughed, quite a natural-sounding laugh. “That would be my low origins showing.
You
would think her beyond anything.”

“I’m surprised the Eyrie is fit to live in.”

“It’s a total shambles,” he said, letting slip he had been there. He realized it at once, and rattled on, “Or so the woman said in any case. Good business for me. She will have to do a deal of shopping to get it set to rights. Did you ever hear the Eyrie used to be a smugglers’ den?” he asked, in a casual way.

“It used to have the reputation of it long ago. Legend from the days of Miss Marjoram,” I corroborated, as he already knew.

“If that is the spot they’re using now, they’ll have to move their base,” he remarked idly.

“What is this interest in smugglers?”

“A notion of Hadley’s. The customs fellows in London are all in the boughs about the quantity of brandy coming in here at Salford. Hadley feels if I could do something to discover the ring, it would stand me in good stead with the party. He is a friend of the president of the Board of Trade. Just an idea, you know, as I happen to be here.”

“A wretched idea! You must know my views on smuggling, Stanley,” I pouted. “If you lift a finger to help them, I shall disown you. Buy all my ribbons in Felixstone.” I was shocked to see this brought an uncomfortable look to his face. He had maintained his pose through all my taunts about Lucy, but this one hit the quick.

“I hope you are not
unalterably
on the side of crime,” he ventured.

“Oh no, I am quite opposed to taxation and the crimes of the government.
I
am on the side of the righteous poor.”

“Ah good, then you are on my side. I am as poor and as righteous as they come.” This was mere persiflage to divert the course of our conversation. He did not wish to discuss his real work with me, and I must own I was happy enough to drop the matter.

“I hope you got that leg of yours looked at by a good man while you were in London.”

“No, it didn’t seem to be bothering me at all. I wonder if it would be the sea air here that is hard on it.”

“Perhaps it requires the regular exercise of waltzing.”

“A pity my favorite waltzing partner will not lower herself to attend the assemblies. It would be such an excellent excuse to get her in my arms.”

I had a vision of him waltzing with a vivacious Lady Lucy. It proved a good cure to his insidious charm. Yes, inveterate idiot that I was, I felt myself softening toward him again. Neither in London nor in Salford had I seen any gentleman I liked better, nor half so well, but I would not give way to my weakness. I wished to do a little planting of the idea I was soon to win a thousand pounds in a London lottery, to make it less startling when it was announced. My chance arose very soon, when we began to discuss my trip to the city, with my telling him of its highlights (those of them that were for his ears). “And of course I bought lottery tickets,” I said.

“I usually buy mine at Felixstone.”

“So do I, but there was one in London with a thousand pounds prize. Only fancy if I should win it.”

“Not much chance, I’m afraid. I imagine they are all fixed, but that doesn’t stop anyone from taking a chance.”

“Much good it would do me if I did win. Andrew is opposed to gambling. He would make me give the whole to charity.”

“He isn’t that big a gudgeon.”

“Oh yes, stuffed full of rectitude.”

“Hardly worth your while buying a ticket then.”

I dismissed it with a hunch of my shoulders. The matter was not to be belabored, only mentioned. Williams still had to go to the inn for luncheon, so he left then, asking if he might drop in that evening. Setting himself up as quite an established suitor, you see. Curious to discover how far he would go, I gave him permission.

He proved, when he arrived at the front door no later than eight o’clock, to be ready to go to most any lengths to secure a second girl friend. To get me alone for some serious flirtation, he had brought a catalogue with him, and sat in a corner with me perusing its pages, while I selected those items I wished to see on the shelves of Owens’ shop. The other few hundred customers were nothing to him.

It was an eye-opening experience to see how much excuse for dalliance a determined flirt could discover in a catalogue. Eye-opening too to see Owens’ markup on his merchandise—one hundred percent, and
more
on some items! He was robbing us blind. As bad as the government.