Sins of the Father (11 page)

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Authors: Kitty Neale

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BOOK: Sins of the Father
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11
 

Horace was hovering in the hall when Emma arrived on Monday morning. He stepped up to greet her, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her cheek.

‘Good morning, my dear.’

Emma moved hastily to one side. ‘Good morning, Mr Bell.’

‘Now then, Emma, we’re engaged now. Surely you can call me Horace?’

He noted the blush that stained her pretty cheeks. She was a beauty all right, and, he was sure, totally innocent. So much so that he would have to be very gentle. After all, he didn’t want to scare her off. ‘Talking of engagement, come into the drawing room. I have something for you.’

She meekly followed him, which gratified Horace. Yes, she would be obedient. He was also pleased that he didn’t have to buy a ring. His first wife’s would suffice, though it might need altering
to fit her slender finger. He drew her to the sofa, sitting a little apart as he took the ring from his pocket.

‘I hope you like this, my dear. I chose it for the colour of your eyes.’

Emma’s eyes rounded as he slipped the diamond and sapphire cluster onto her finger. Her voice was barely a whisper. ‘It…it’s lovely.’

‘Oh dear, I’m afraid it’s a little large. Never mind, I’ll drop into the jeweller’s today and have it altered. I’ll also go to the registry office to arrange the ceremony. How do you feel about the last week in September?’

‘That soon!’

‘Well, yes, my dear. When I suggested yesterday that we marry next month, you didn’t object.’

Emma sat quietly for a moment, but then nodded. ‘All right then.’

She removed the ring, passing it to him, and he saw that her hands were shaking. So skittish and shy, he thought, wanting to pull her into his arms right there and then.

He resisted the urge, instead breaking the tension by saying, ‘Why don’t you go and make us both a cup of tea before I leave?’

She jumped to her feet, almost running from the room, and Horace settled back to await her return. Emma was a virgin, he was sure of it, and his excitement mounted. His first wife had been
married before, but it had been her inheritance that attracted him. He had courted her, married her, expecting to gain control of her money, but Isabelle had been clever, thwarting his attempts at every turn. His thoughts turned to Joyce, his mistress, another woman of experience. He’d be rid of her soon, along with the expense of keeping her exclusively to himself. Instead he’d have Emma, and this time he’d be the first man to lay a hand on her body. He hardened, having to cover himself hastily when Emma came into the room.

She laid the tray on a side table. ‘Err…Mr Bell, sorry…I mean Horace. How many bedrooms are there in this house?’

‘Well, let me see, there are five on the first floor, and two more in the attic. Mind you, with just the two of us, I don’t see much point in opening them up. One bedroom will be sufficient for our needs.’

He saw her eyes widen with dismay and wondered why. Was it his bedroom, the one she thought he’d shared with his wife? Huh, little did Emma know that Isabelle had demanded separate rooms. Still, maybe she would feel more comfortable if they slept somewhere else.

He took a set of keys out of his pocket, handing them to her. ‘Perhaps you’d like to select another bedroom for us to share.’

Emma poured the tea, her cup rattling in the
saucer as she took a seat a little distance away from him. ‘If I marry you, I can’t leave my brothers and sisters to fend for themselves. With seven bedrooms…I…I was hoping you’d let them come here to live.’

Horace was fit to explode, to tell her in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t stand for that bloody horde of brats in his house, but then one word struck him. Emma had said
if
she married him–not
when
. He placed his teacup on the table, abruptly standing and striding to the window as his mind churned. He needed to talk to Tom Chambers, to nip this suggestion in the bud. In the meantime he’d have to stall Emma.

Fixing a smile, he said, ‘Well, my dear, I don’t think your father would agree to that.’

‘He won’t care. He hasn’t any time for the kids, and I know they’d be happier with us. Please, Horace, they need someone to look after them, and I can’t abandon them…I just can’t.’

‘Leave it with me, Emma. I’ll have a word with your father to see what he has to say about it and then we’ll talk again.’ And to avoid any further discussion on the subject he glanced at the clock, adding hastily, ‘Goodness, look at the time! I must be off now, but I’ll try to return before you leave.’

Once again he gave her a kiss on the cheek, gratified when this time she didn’t move hastily away. Instead she smiled shyly at him before
following him into the hall, giving him a little wave as he left.

Horace made his way to Clapham North underground station. With Emma’s request on his mind, he would have preferred to see Tom Chambers before he started his day’s business, but knew it would have to wait until that evening when he could waylay the man in his local pub again. Christ, five kids, albeit the eldest boy working. Emma must be mad to think he’d take them on. He shuddered. He couldn’t stand children, and on the rare occasions that he’d been allowed in Isabelle’s bed, he’d made quite sure she didn’t become pregnant. He liked his life ordered, his home a haven, and anyway, children cost a bloody fortune in upkeep.

At the underground station Horace paid for a return fare to Balham. The agent had told him that the property he was going to see was a bargain and Horace hoped he wasn’t being misled. According to the details it was a three-storey house with a basement, and once converted would yield an income from four flats. Balham was new territory for him, all of his other properties being in Battersea or Clapham, and though he wasn’t actively looking for another house, this one sounded too good to miss. A small smile played around his thin lips. After this bit of business he’d
go to the registry office…He frowned. Maybe he should put if off until he’d spoken to Tom Chambers. He wanted desperately to marry Emma, but not if she expected him to take on her bloody brothers and sisters.

Emma was relieved when Mr Bell left. She then rebuked herself. Horace–she had to think of him as Horace now. When he’d suggested September for their wedding, she’d been tempted to ask for more time, but knowing that she still had to speak to him about moving the children in, she’d decided to go along with his plans. After all, she didn’t want him upset. She smiled happily. He had agreed–well, almost. It was just a matter of talking to her father. For once Luke’s prediction was wrong, his doubts unfounded. She held out her arms and on tiptoes spun around and around in the wide hall, her heart light as she imagined the kids’ reactions to living in this house. Like her, they would love it, and they’d even have a garden to play in. Oh, she loved them all, but it had been the thought of leaving Luke that had been the hardest to bear.

Dizzy now, Emma came to a standstill, swaying slightly. She was also dizzy with the speed with which her life was changing. So much had happened in such a short time. Her mother, her beautiful mother, had died. James and Archie had
gone to live with Alice, and now she was going to marry Mr Bell.

Emma shook her head, and as she regained her balance her eyes alighted on the staircase. She’d leave the dusting for now and instead would select the children’s rooms. Other than Horace’s bedroom and the bathroom, all the others had been locked, but now with the keys she hurried up to the first-floor landing.

Horace’s room was at the front of the house. She passed it, heading for the four others on this floor. The key was stiff in the lock on the first one, but she eventually mastered it, stepping into another double bedroom. There were two oak wardrobes and a dressing table, the room decorated with pink flowered wallpaper. Emma smiled. This was a much brighter room, one she preferred, and Horace’s current room would be ideal for Dick.

She moved over to one of the wardrobes, opened it and gasped. It was full of evening gowns, the scent of mothballs making her nostrils twitch. Inadvertently, her hand reached out to touch them, her fingers stroking silks, satins and velvets. Emma knew they must have belonged to Horace’s first wife, and must have cost the earth. She closed the door and then opened the second wardrobe, finding this one full of day clothes. My God, she had thought that Alice had lovely clothes, but they
were tawdry compared to these. She flicked along the rails, finding that all the garments were large. Mrs Bell must have been a big woman. Her curiosity was piqued. Mr Bell was generous, and he must have loved his wife very much to provide her with all these wonderful things.

Emma held a gown up in front of her. Would Horace buy her lovely gowns too? Would he buy her beautiful jewellery? The mirror was full length, and as she took in her appearance, a frown creased her forehead. Even dressed in such finery she would never be a lady. The way she spoke let her down, and her manners. If she wanted to wear clothes like these, she would have to learn–learn to speak correctly, learn to behave like a lady. Emma stiffened her resolve, determined to do just that.

She moved to the wardrobe again, placing the dress back on the rail. It was time these clothes were cleared, but perhaps Horace had hung on to them for sentimental value; perhaps it was too painful to let these reminders of his wife go?

Emma closed the wardrobe door and then moved on to the end bedroom. Again the lock was stiff, but this time it squeaked open to reveal a single room. It was small, but nice, the furniture not as solid as the other one, but the walls were pale blue and ideal for Luke.

The rooms at the back of the house were on
each side of the bathroom, but Emma was pleased to find another double and single, mentally assigning them to Susan and Bella. There was a small staircase leading to another floor, but she was disappointed to find it damp and musty. Horace had said there were seven bedrooms, and though they were furnished, the décor was old, the wallpaper peeling. Oh, well, it didn’t matter. There was only a bedroom for Ann to find, and she was sure her sister would be happy to share the first-floor double with Bella…

Happily, Emma went back to the ground floor. Other than the attic rooms it was all so wonderful, so luxurious. She would keep everything perfect, pristine…With a little skip she started her routine. She no longer had to fantasise. This lovely house would be hers soon, ringing with the sound of children playing. Maybe Horace would put a swing in the garden? The girls would so love that.

Later that afternoon, Emma finished her tasks, disappointed that Horace hadn’t returned. She knew he couldn’t have talked to her father yet, but wasn’t worried about that. Knowing her father, she was sure he’d agree to the children moving in, but with the wedding only a month away she was anxious to get the house in order.

There were his late wife’s clothes to discuss, and
she hoped that clearing them wouldn’t upset him too much. Along with this she wanted to talk about the top-floor rooms. Surely it would be better to get the damp sorted and the rooms decorated rather than leave them in such poor condition to deteriorate further?

Her mind had raced all day, leaving her with a slight headache, but it had kept her from thinking about the one thing that still concerned her. She had to sleep with Horace and she still found the thought sickening. Oh, he was a nice man, there was no denying that, but when making his bed her flesh crawled. She would have to lie next to him–have to let him touch her!

With one last look around the hall, Emma closed the door behind her and hurried home, trying to dismiss her fears as she again focused on how lovely it would be to live in such luxury.

Emma’s heart sank when she arrived home to find Liz Dunston hovering in the hall, the woman’s face pinched with anger.

‘Listen to that racket, Emma, and it’s been going on for hours. You may live on the top floor, but the noise still travels down and it’s been driving me mad. Not only that, the kids have been running in and out all day long, thumping up and down the stairs with no thought for others.’

Emma didn’t have to cock her ears to hear the shouting and screaming from their top-floor flat.
She frowned. ‘Have you been up to see if there’s anything wrong?’

‘No I bloody well haven’t. It ain’t my place to keep your family in order. And, young lady, let me tell you that I am definitely going to have a word with Mr Bell when he calls for the rent on Friday.’

There were footsteps on the stairs and Emma looked round to see Susan running down them two at a time. ‘Emma, Emma, tell Bella! She won’t do as Luke says and it’s upsetting Ann.’

‘See what I mean?’ Liz Dunston snapped. ‘They’re out of control and if you ask me, they shouldn’t be left on their own. That’s something else I’ll report to the landlord.’

Emma’s head was pounding now and something snapped. She glared at Liz Dunston, her tone haughty as the words came out of her mouth without thought. ‘Well, Mrs Dunston, I’m sure my fiancé will be interested to hear your complaints. However, you need not concern yourself. When Mr Bell and I marry in a month’s time, the children will be coming to live with us.’

‘What! You’re going to marry Horace Bell?’

‘Yes, that’s right. Now, come on, Susan, let’s go and sort this out.’

On that note Emma marched upstairs, and despite her splitting headache she was unable to resist a grin at the expression on Liz Dunston’s
face. Her face then sobered. She had let the cat out of the bag now. The woman was a huge gossip and word would soon spread. Oh, what did it matter? She’d be leaving here soon, they’d all be leaving. Their lives were going to be so different and she couldn’t wait to see the kids’ faces when they saw their rooms. No more sleeping on mattresses on the floor. But at that thought Emma shivered. She’d rather share a mattress with her sisters any night of the week than sleep next to Horace Bell.

12
 

Tom looked round in surprise when Horace Bell joined him at the bar. The man didn’t look too happy and Tom tensed. Had something gone wrong? Had Emma changed her mind?

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