Ruined (17 page)

This was also a wise decision. Having exhausted the possibilities for her list, Jessie put down her pen and taking up her candles, went to sit next to the empty fireplace in order to read the book that Lady Ilam had given her. She opened the copy of
A Vindication of the Rights of Woman
and smiled bitterly as she read these words:

Jessie sighed. At least, it seemed, Miss Wollstonecraft would not blame her for having had a weakness for a rake; but she would have to take issue with the rest of the sentence. Her life had certainly been one of attempting to please others and when she had attempted to take pleasure for herself, she had only ended up feeling guilty.

Eventually, she did drop off to sleep after reading a few more 
pages. She was glad that Mrs Machin did not insist upon early rising, for the sun was well up before she stirred, and even then, when she got downstairs, she found that the other lady was still abed. Her meal concluded, she went upstairs again to examine her list in the clear light of day.

The first resolution she discounted immediately. There would be absolutely no purpose served in making such a confession. It would only make Henry angry over something that he could not do anything about. As for the second, it was all very well to resolve to wear her ring. The problem was, there were some places where it would not be suitable to risk its loss – at the poor house, for example. How shocking it would be if she mislaid it. Then she would indeed have something to confess!

The third item on the list – visiting the poor house – she would do that very day. It would serve as an act of penance. The items on the list that concerned Raff, and the one concerning Wallace Weary, she would look at another time. For the present, she would occupy the rest of the morning with writing to Henry. That would be a good preparation for her fourth resolution. Then, after luncheon, she would go to the poor house, unless Mrs Machin wanted her company for a walk, or to go shopping.

When Henrietta did eventually emerge, however, it seemed that going out was the last thing she wanted to do. Her mind was
positively
seething with ideas after the previous night’s experience and she desired nothing more than an afternoon’s solitude in which to write down all her impressions.

‘Do you mind if I take Dilly with me?’ Jessie asked. ‘I think Mr Hinder said that he would be from home this afternoon.’

‘Take her by all means,’ replied Mrs Machin, in rather abstracted tones. ‘And now, I must get on with my work.’

For going to the poor house, Jessie went upstairs to change into one of her plainest gowns. She was coming down the stairs tying the strings of her bonnet when the door-bell rang, and Dilly came into the hall and opened the door to admit Raff. He was in a dark-blue coat with buff breeches and waistcoat and shiny black boots, and all at once he made Jessie feel quite shabby.

‘Good afternoon, Jez,’ he said, executing an elegant bow. ‘I’ve come to call on you, but I see you are going out.’ 

‘I am,’ Jessie agreed, ‘and I do not advise your interrupting Mrs Machin at the moment. She is wrestling with her muse.’

‘Then I will leave her in peace. Where are you going? You shouldn’t go out alone, as I’ve told you before. London is full of unsavoury characters.’

‘Yes, so I have discovered,’ she answered staring pointedly at him, which gaze he returned with a bland expression. ‘Dilly is going with me, so I am not going alone,’ she continued, annoyed with herself for blushing. ‘I am going to the poor house.’

‘Thrown out already?’ he said in sympathetic tones. ‘Shall I plead with Henrietta on your behalf?’

She had to smile at this, even though her feelings towards him were in turmoil. ‘No, I am going to read with the children,’ she replied.

‘Then let us go,’ he responded. ‘Leave Dilly at home. I will be your escort instead.’ She stared at him for a moment or two. ‘Any
objections
?’ he asked, his brows soaring.

‘You are always telling me that I shouldn’t be seen with you,’ Jessie pointed out.

‘Yes, but I need to talk to you.’

‘All right,’ she said after a moment or two. ‘It will at any rate give you the opportunity to apologize.’

‘Apologize?’ he asked, raising his brows again.

Then, a moment or two later, he added, ‘As a matter of fact, I
was
going to apologize, but I don’t like being told to do so. Are you quite ready? Shall we go?’

They set off walking along Sloane Street in the direction of Knightsbridge. Ashbourne offered his arm, and after a moment or two’s hesitation, Jez took it. ‘It’s all right,’ he told her. ‘I don’t bite.’

‘Don’t you?’ she replied dubiously.

‘Very well, I apologize,’ he said wearily. ‘Will that do?’

‘I don’t know,’ she answered him candidly. ‘I’m not at all sure what you are apologizing for, you see.’

They both halted, and for a moment, they locked gazes as he looked down at her and she looked up at him. ‘Neither am I,’ he said, both his tone and his expression utterly serious. As she looked into his eyes, it was if she was transported back to Vauxhall, to that moment in the Dark Walk when he had kissed her. She remembered 
the feel of his mouth covering hers and she knew that her face was flaming. They walked on for some time in silence.

Then, in a different tone he went on, ‘With regard to Wallace Weary—’

She cut him off. ‘Shall we consider the matter closed?’ she said. ‘You made it quite clear last night that you are not prepared to hear my criticisms of your life. You therefore have no right to tell me what I should do in mine.’

‘The two cases are not the same,’ he replied. ‘You are a complete innocent. You have no idea of what the likes of Wallace Weary are capable; whereas I—’

‘Whereas you know all too well, since there is very little to choose between you,’ she interrupted. ‘May I remind you that it was you who walked off and left me completely at his mercy?’

Two red spots of colour appeared on his cheekbones. ‘I had not realized that your entire party would be so utterly lacking in sense,’ he responded. ‘Conducting a party from Bedlam would have been easier. Would to God I’d never agreed to take you there.’

‘In case you had forgotten, it was not my choice, was it? It was Henrietta’s idea to invite you.’

‘I suppose you would have preferred it, then, if you had had Wallace Weary’s escort instead.’

‘Infinitely,’ she answered with vigour, if not with complete truth. ‘At least he did not drag me in amongst the bushes and force his embraces upon me.’

He laughed shortly. ‘Force? Is that how you remember it? I seem to recall that you were a willing participant.’

‘How dare you!’ she exclaimed, all the more angry because she knew that he was right.

‘The truth hurts, does it? Well here’s another fact. The only reason that Weary did not drag you into the bushes was lack of
opportunity
. No doubt you would have been quite happy to receive such attentions at his hands. How would you have responded to his kisses, my lovely Jezebel?’

She stared at him. ‘You’re disgusting,’ she said. ‘A rake, a libertine, who pays women to … to …’

‘At least I’m not engaged to a clergyman who is conveniently away in Derbyshire,’ he retorted. 

The fact that she had been belabouring her conscience with this very matter did not improve her temper. ‘How can you bring Henry into this?’ she demanded. ‘Henry is worth ten of you – twenty!’

‘Of course he is,’ Ashbourne answered. ‘What is that to the purpose?’

‘Why nothing,’ she answered, trying to think of the most hurtful thing that she could say. ‘I suppose what I mean is that although being with a well-known rake is diverting in a way, a woman looks for someone of greater substance in the man she marries.’ She paused. ‘I’ve outgrown you, Raff. Pray do not put yourself out any further on my account. I would much prefer it if you stayed away from me completely. I will give your excuses to Henrietta. Doubtless she will understand that infidelity in any kind of relationship is one of the hallmarks of a rake.’

They had just reached the entrance of the poor house. Ashbourne bowed, with his usual elegance. His face was chalk white. ‘Very well, ma’am. It shall be as you say,’ he responded. ‘Don’t be afraid that I will trouble you any further.’ He touched his hat and walked away. She stood and watched him until he went out of sight.

Chapter Fifteen

J
essie had not thought that the day could possibly get any worse, but she was proved to be wrong when she returned home in a hackney, procured for her by the matron, to be told by Dilly that a gentleman had come to visit them. Jessie’s first thought was that it might be Raff, come to make up their differences, and her heart gave a little skip. Then she recalled that Dilly knew Raff, and would hardly refer to him just as a gentleman. It could not possibly be Henry or Mr Hinder for the same reason.

‘Has he been here long?’ Jessie asked, when she had established that Dilly had no idea of the gentleman’s name.

‘Only just come, miss,’ Dilly replied.

Jessie went upstairs, took off her outside garments and smoothed her hair, then came back to join Henrietta in the drawing-room.

‘So you see, that is why we were at Vauxhall; so that I might conduct further research,’ said Hetty’s voice.

‘My dear ma’am, I understand completely. How very ingenious of you.’ Jessie was conscious of a slow, creeping sensation of dread as she heard the rather nasal accents of Sir Wallace Weary. What was more, it sounded as though Mrs Machin had been so indiscreet as to confide in the baronet with regard to her novel writing. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Sir Wallace looked up at her entrance, and got to his feet, a wide smile spreading across his features. ‘Miss Warburton, how delightful to see you,’ he said. ‘Mrs Machin told me that you had gone out, so I did not dare hope for this pleasure.’ 

‘Indeed,’ Jessie replied in frosty accents. ‘Henrietta, is the tea fresh, or shall I ring for more?’

‘Please do ring,’ Mrs Machin replied. ‘Sir Wallace, you will stay for another cup?’

‘I should be glad to do so, but I fear that my presence is not welcome to Miss Warburton.’

If he had decided on a direct approach, thought Jessie, then she too could be similarly frank. ‘I cannot imagine how you could ever suppose that it would be, sir, after your insinuations of the other night.’

‘Insinuations!’ exclaimed Henrietta. Jessie was not sure whether she was on the point of asking him to leave, or of demanding that he repeat his remarks so that she could use them for her book.

Sir Wallace looked abashed. ‘I fear that I rather over-indulged in arrack punch,’ he confessed. ‘I am glad of the opportunity to admit that I did not act like a gentleman and to apologize for it.’

‘Had you also over-indulged in arrack punch when we met you in the bookshop?’ Jessie asked, opening her eyes wide.

‘No,’ he admitted, ‘but I was with Ashbourne. He always brings out the worst in me, I fear. I would be very grateful, ladies, if you would forget my past misdemeanours, and allow me to make a new start.’

Despite her quarrel with Ashbourne, Jessie immediately found her hackles rising at this implied criticism. Henrietta did not seem to be similarly affected, however, and she said immediately, ‘I am sure that we would be less than Christian if we did anything else.’

Sir Wallace stayed for half an hour and during that time, took another cup of tea and exerted himself to please. Jessie did not completely let her guard down, but his cheerful good humour made a welcome change to her recent angry exchanges with Raff.

Before he left, he invited them to go with him for a drive in Hyde Park. ‘Such an outing will be an opportunity for me to make up for my past sins,’ he told them.

‘I am afraid that our arrangements are a little uncertain,’ said Jessie, still not convinced of the man’s sincerity.

Henrietta appeared to have no such doubts. ‘My friend is thinking of evening outings,’ she said. ‘During the day, however, we can easily make arrangements to join you.’ 

‘Splendid,’ declared Sir Wallace. ‘Shall we say tomorrow, if it is fine?’ The ladies agreed, one with enthusiasm, the other with barely concealed reluctance, and soon afterwards he took his leave.

The moment the front door had closed behind him, Jessie exclaimed, ‘Hettie! That dreadful man! What upon earth can have possessed you?’

‘Do you think he is so very dreadful?’ Henrietta asked, wrinkling her brow. ‘He has always seemed perfectly civil to me.’

‘Well he has not been to me,’ Jessie replied frankly. ‘In fact, at Vauxhall he was vulgar and insinuating.’

‘But he has explained that, dear. He had too much to drink. I have never had a relative inclined to that sort of habit, but I am told that it can have a shocking effect upon the most proper person.’

‘It certainly can,’ agreed Jessie with feeling, thinking not just about Sir Wallace but about Squire Warburton.

‘There you are then,’ replied Henrietta. ‘Anyway, we are only going out with him for a drive. What could be more harmless than that? He will not have had a chance to get drunk then, surely?’

‘No, perhaps not. But you are forgetting that he was just as bad when we met him in the bookshop. I don’t trust him, Hettie.’

‘Well, of course, I do not trust him either. You must not think me completely naïve. I intend to make very good use of him.’

‘For your book?’

‘For my book. He will be another rake to observe, besides Raff.’

Jessie remembered rather guiltily that she had told Raff not to come again, and thus had cut off one of Henrietta’s sources of
information
. ‘I suppose a drive in Hyde Park would not do any real harm,’ she said slowly.

‘Exactly what I have been saying all along,’ Hettie pointed out.

‘You must be very discreet about what you disclose to him, though,’ Jessie warned her. ‘I would give something to find out how he discovered our address, for instance.’

‘Perhaps through the bookshop,’ Hettie suggested. ‘Anyway, let us leave that subject, for there is another matter that I want you to help me with.’

‘Something else to do with your book?’

Hettie nodded. ‘I have decided that I need to find out about brothels.’ 

Jessie was glad that she had finished her cup of tea, or she would certainly have choked. ‘Brothels?’ she exclaimed.

‘My heroine is to visit one in search of a gentleman who has wronged her,’ Henrietta answered. ‘So I have decided that we ought to go to one in disguise.’

‘Surely you do not intend us to go inside?’ said Jessie, much shocked.

‘Certainly not,’ Henrietta replied. ‘All we need do is to sit outside in a closed carriage and watch as people go in and out. It will give me an idea of how many people attend, what the women look like, at what times they are busy, and so on. If we are lucky, someone might even leave the door open for long enough for us to see inside.’

‘What if we are spotted?’ Jessie asked. ‘Not that I have agreed to go, you understand.’

‘We will go heavily veiled. We may even wear masks if you wish. Of course,’ she mused in a thoughtful tone, ‘One could always slip inside if one were masked, for just a little minute. Oh do, please, say you will go, Jessie. It would mean such a lot to me.’

‘I will think about it,’ said Jessie. ‘But you may dismiss that idea about ever setting foot in such a place immediately. What’s more, you must promise me that you will not mention the matter to anyone else and certainly not to Sir Wallace. Heaven knows what he would make of that.’

‘Of course, dear,’ replied Hettie, her eyes on her sewing.

Jessie awoke the following morning having had second thoughts about their outing with Sir Wallace. So uneasy did she feel that she decided to say that she would not go. She felt a little guilty because this would mean that Henrietta would not be able to go either. She would no doubt be disappointed, but it could not be helped.

Having made this decision, Jessie went downstairs for breakfast and steeled herself to give her friend the bad news. As is often the case when such a decision has been made she found that she had to wait to disclose it because Mrs Machin had not yet come
downstairs
. Jessie was very much afraid that she might be taking special trouble with her appearance. When that lady did appear, however, she looked as disturbed as her guest.

As soon as Dilly had left them alone, Henrietta said, ‘Jessie, my 
dear I have been thinking about what you said yesterday and I have come to the conclusion that perhaps we ought not to go out with Sir Wallace.’ Much relieved, Jessie was about to agree when the other lady held her hand up. ‘You may say that I am imagining things, but I am convinced that Raff did not approve of him. I do not think we ought to associate with a man of whom Raff does not approve.’

‘Really?’ said Jessie, remembering the conversation that she had had with Raff in the street the day before. ‘And when did Raff become the arbiter of our decisions?’

‘Well, I …’ murmured Mrs Machin.

‘Sir Wallace is no more a rake than Raff; probably less so,’ said Jessie forthrightly. ‘In fact, if Raff does not approve of something, then that probably means that it is perfectly all right.’

Mrs Machin opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, Dilly came in with the post. Among other items, there was a letter for Jessie from Henry.

She stared at the letter, completely non-plussed. She was thirty years of age, and Lusty really could not expect to dictate to her where she should go or with whom she could and could not associate. 

‘Is Henry well, dear?’ asked Henrietta, looking up from her own correspondence.

‘He doesn’t say. He seems far more concerned with what I may be doing,’ answered Jessie, throwing her letter down. ‘Really, if people stopped trying to treat me like a silly chit of seventeen, I should be a good deal happier.’

Mrs Machin laid down her own letter with a small sigh. ‘Oh dear, I suppose we had better not go out with Sir Wallace Weary, then.’

Jessie stared at her for a few moments. ‘I see no reason why we should not do so,’ she replied assertively. ‘We talked about it yesterday. There is no danger in driving with a man in public in the middle of the day.’

‘No, of course not,’ Henrietta replied in a more confident tone. ‘We will go, then, as arranged.’

After all their heart searching, the outing itself was something of an anti-climax. Sir Wallace arrived punctually, and was dressed in buckskin breeches and a green cloth coat with an embroidered waistcoat. His clothes might not fit as well as did Raff’s, but he looked like a gentleman, and his behaviour matched his appearance. He greeted them politely, and helped them up into his phaeton without making any attempt to employ such stratagems as holding hands for longer than necessary or surreptitiously attempting to fondle any other part of their anatomy.

Jessie found herself in the middle, which meant that she was pressed up against Henrietta on one side and the baronet on the other. It was not the place that she would have chosen, but Sir Wallace, although he must have been just as aware of their
proximity
as was she, showed no tendency to take advantage of the situation.

They encountered a number of different people in the park, some of whom, remembering meeting Jessie and Henrietta at church, were good enough to acknowledge them. The only person of whom Jessie was conscious, however, was Raff. He was mounted on the back of a magnificent bay stallion, and the moment that she saw him, it was as if there was no one else in the park. Then seconds later, she
realized
that he was accompanying Lady Gilchrist, who was riding a dainty grey mare. Deciding that the earl should be left in no doubt that she was enjoying herself, Jessie started to pay closer attention to 
her own escort. She was not jealous, she told herself. She just did not want Raff to think that the presence of Lady Gilchrist bothered her.

‘Your cavalier from the other night has deserted you,’ commented Sir Wallace.

‘He has been acquainted with Lady Gilchrist for some time,’ Jessie answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

‘Yes, their relationship goes back for many years,’ Weary agreed. ‘Of course he and Sir Philip enjoyed a friendship in which they shared many interests.’

‘Indeed,’ replied Henrietta interestedly. Jessie could not think what to say. The implications of the baronet’s words were shocking indeed, but taken on the surface, they could have been taken to refer simply to Sir Philip and Lord Ashbourne’s enthusiasm for items of antiquity.