The Orphan's Dream (7 page)

‘It's like any big city at night,' Jack said casually. ‘This is nothing compared to some places I've visited abroad.'

Mirabel stared out of the window. ‘That child can't be more than nine or ten years old,' she cried, horrified. ‘The old woman is exhibiting her like an animal in the market.'

‘That's probably her mother or her grandmother. It's a harsh world if you're poor, Mirabel.'

She shook her head. ‘It's on my doorstep and yet I knew nothing of it. I thought the lives of the beggars who come to the soup kitchen were bad enough, but this is a living hell.'

‘We're here,' Jack said as the hackney carriage drew to a halt. ‘It's best if you wait in the cab. I'll take Gertie inside and then I'll see you home.'

‘I'm coming in. I want to see what sort of place this is.'

He opened the door and lifted Gertie gently in his arms. ‘Suit yourself, but don't say I didn't warn you.' He climbed out, leaving Mirabel to manage on her own.

The street was thronged with people going about their business as if it were noon on market day. Every other building seemed to be a pub, and the sound of drunken singing, raucous laughter and raised voices was accompanied by the smashing of glass and splintering of wood as fights broke out. Bruised and bloodied men were ejected with force through open doors, landing sprawled in the gutter along with the rats and feral cats. Jack carried Gertie into a house that blazed with lights. The front door was wedged open and a burly man stood at the top of the steps with his muscular arms folded across his chest and a pugnacious set to his jaw. His expression did not alter, but he seemed to know Jack and moved aside to let him in.

Even as Mirabel stepped over the threshold she realised that this was no ordinary establishment. The gaudy red and gold wallpaper in the entrance hall and the brass candle sconces set between dozens of long mirrors created an ambience of opulence verging on vulgarity. The air was heady with a mixture of cheap perfume, cigar smoke and wine. It was unlike any other place she had ever seen, and unless she was very much mistaken this was a brothel. Any doubts she had were dispelled by the appearance of a tall, slender woman wearing an emerald-silk gown lavishly trimmed with bugle beads and quite shockingly low cut. She might once have been quite lovely, but her painted cheeks and lips could not replicate the bloom of youth. Her hazel eyes held a world-weary expression that lightened momentarily when she saw Jack and darkened almost instantly, as if she were afraid to allow human emotions to interfere with business.

‘Zilla, my dear. How lovely you look tonight.' Jack inclined his head, smiling.

‘Don't try to soft-soap me, Jack Starke. I'm doing you a big favour taking this skinny little rabbit of a girl under my wing.' Zilla touched Gertie's cheek with the tip of her forefinger. ‘She looks terrible. Which gutter did you pluck her from?'

‘Excuse me,' Mirabel said angrily. ‘I didn't agree to this, Jack.'

‘Didn't you tell this person what you had in mind?' Zilla shook her head. ‘You always were a fool when it came to a pretty face, Jack Starke.'

Mirabel faced him angrily. ‘I thought you had a refuge in mind for the poor girl. Leaving her in a brothel isn't going to improve her lot.'

‘A brothel?' Zilla gave her a withering look. ‘This is a private club, where gentlemen relax and enjoy the company of young women.'

‘It's still a brothel,' Mirabel insisted. ‘We've just rescued this girl from a life on the streets. She needs to recuperate in pleasant surroundings with people who'll treat her kindly.'

Zilla stood arms akimbo, glaring at Mirabel. ‘And what makes you think she won't get that here?'

‘That's enough, ladies,' Jack said firmly. ‘Mirabel, this lady is Zilla Grace, one of my oldest friends. A better person you'll go a long way to meet. Zilla, this young puritan is Mirabel Cutler. Her heart is in the right place but she's led a sheltered existence, and apparently can't tell the difference between a genuine kind heart and a money-grubbing wanton.'

Zilla's angry expression melted into a smile. ‘You always were good with words, Jack, as well as other things which we won't mention in front of a well-bred young lady.'

‘Laugh at me if you like.' Mirabel drew herself up to her full height, finding to her annoyance that she was still half a head shorter than Zilla. ‘But I'm not leaving Gertie to be sold to the highest bidder like that poor child I just saw.'

‘My dear, you have a very odd idea of how I run my house,' Zilla said with a humourless chuckle. ‘My girls are willing participants in the activities here. No one is forced to do anything they don't want to, and I've only agreed to take Gertie in as a favour to an old friend. She can stay here until she regains her health and strength. After that it's up to her or to you, as you seem to have taken charge of her life. Are you related in some way?'

Taken aback, Mirabel shook her head. ‘No. I don't really know her.'

‘Zilla will take good care of Gertie,' Jack said easily. ‘And now I'd really like to put her down. Where do you want her, my love?'

‘If her guardian angel agrees, I'll put her in the back room. It's next to mine and I can keep an eye on her.'

Mirabel looked from one to the other, frowning. It was not difficult to work out the relationship between Jack and Zilla. She had disliked the woman the moment she clapped eyes on her. ‘I'm not sure about this.'

‘For God's sake, stop looking down your nose at me. I'm a businesswoman first and foremost,' Zilla said angrily. ‘My girls aren't slaves. They come and go as they please, and they're well treated. Your little friend will be looked after.'

Mirabel opened her mouth to argue but at that moment Gertie uttered a moan. ‘This is getting us nowhere,' Jack said impatiently. ‘She might be small but I'm getting cramp. Lead on, Zilla.'

She hesitated for a moment, glaring at Mirabel, and then seeming to relent she led the way down a long passageway to a door at the far end. Mirabel followed them, not knowing quite what to expect. She had read lurid descriptions of houses of ill repute in penny dreadful novels she had borrowed from Cook, who was addicted to them. She was vaguely disappointed to enter a comfortable parlour such as might be found in any middle-class home, the only difference being that there was a bed in one corner, but otherwise it was tastefully furnished with a chintz-covered sofa and armchairs and the windows were draped in matching fabric. Zilla lit an oil lamp and placed it on a table close to the bed. ‘It's quiet in here. She won't be disturbed.'

Mirabel watched anxiously as Jack laid Gertie on the mattress. ‘She'll wake up when the laudanum wears off. She'll be scared when she realises she's not with me.'

‘I'm perfectly capable of looking after her.' Zilla drew the covers up to Gertie's chin, stooping to brush a lock of hair off the girl's face. ‘I promise you that she'll be well cared for.'

Jack placed his hands around Zilla's slim waist and twirled her round to face him, planting a kiss on her full lips. ‘Thank you, my love.'

With the recoil of a snake she raised her hand and slapped his face, leaving scarlet imprints of her fingers. ‘That's for taking me for granted, Jack Starke.'

Mirabel held her breath, waiting for Jack to react, but he released Zilla, grinning ruefully as he rubbed his cheek. ‘You're still the same firebrand you always were, Zilla my darling.'

‘I'm nobody's darling.' She smiled and brushed his lips with a kiss. ‘Don't ever assume you can be free and easy with me. My favours are not bestowed lightly.'

‘You loved me once.'

‘Long ago, Jack. That was a long time ago.'

He nodded his head. ‘You still pack a punch, Zilla.'

Mirabel tugged at his sleeve. ‘Perhaps we should leave now?'

‘That's the first sensible thing you've said.' Zilla moved to the door and opened it. ‘I suppose you'll be leaving port soon, Captain?'

‘I haven't as yet found a cargo, but I can't afford to have the ship lying idle for long.'

‘You'll come again before you set sail?'

‘It's a promise. We'll see ourselves out, Zilla.'

‘Thank you for taking Gertie in,' Mirabel said, pausing in the doorway. ‘I am grateful.'

‘So you should be. I'm not running a charity.'

‘I'd like to visit her if I may.'

Zilla put her head on one side, curling her lip. ‘You would dare to be seen visiting such a place?'

‘What do you take me for, Miss Grace?'

‘To be perfectly frank I think you're a spoilt little rich girl who's never done a hard day's work in her life.'

‘That's not fair, Zilla.' Jack laid his hand on Mirabel's shoulder. ‘You don't know anything of this girl's life.'

‘I see you have a champion, Miss Cutler.'

‘I can speak for myself. You're welcome to your opinion, but you're wrong. Goodbye, Miss Grace. I'll call tomorrow to see how Gertie is doing.' She walked away with as much dignity as she could muster.

The cabby was about to drive off as they emerged from the house but he stopped when he spotted Jack, and drew the horses to a halt. ‘I thought you was never coming, guv.'

Jack tossed him a coin. ‘Great Tower Hill, cabby.' He opened the door for Mirabel and climbed in beside her. ‘Zilla's a good woman but you don't want to get on the wrong side of her. I've seen her throw grown men bodily from the premises if they misbehaved.'

‘You were lovers?'

‘What sort of question is that? I thought you were a well-brought-up young woman.'

‘I was born in a warehouse loft in Shad Thames. My father wasn't always in the position he is now.'

‘And my past relationship with Zilla doesn't please you?'

‘You're answering my question with questions.'

‘All right. Although it's really none of your business – Zilla and I were together for a long time.'

‘What happened?'

‘We grew apart. She didn't like me being away at sea for months at a time, sometimes a year or more, and Zilla isn't a woman who likes to be tied down.'

‘But you're still in love with her?'

‘I'm still fond of her, but we strike sparks off each other and that's not a comfortable relationship.'

‘I see.'

He turned his head to look into her eyes. ‘Do you? I wonder.'

She looked away. ‘Thank you for helping me with Gertie. I don't suppose we'll meet again, unless you happen to be visiting Miss Grace's establishment at the same time as me.'

‘That's a thought.'

They lapsed into silence and Mirabel stared out of the window with unseeing eyes. She was exhausted both physically and mentally. The events of the evening seemed suddenly unreal, and at any moment she might wake up to find herself in the dreaming place. She hoped that Gertie would not be too scared when she opened her eyes to find Zilla Grace staring down at her, but for now at least there was nothing more that she could do for the girl.

It seemed hardly any time at all before the cabby pulled up outside the entrance to Catherine Court. ‘Wait here,' Jack said as he helped Mirabel alight. ‘I'll be right back.'

‘Yes, guv. You said that last time, but some of us has homes to go to.'

‘I'll just see the young lady to her front door and I'll be back.' Jack opened the gate and followed Mirabel into the court. ‘Will you be all right?'

‘They were all asleep when I left. No one will be any the wiser.' Mirabel opened her reticule and took out the key, but before she had a chance to put it in the lock the door opened and light flooded into the porch.

‘What time do you call this?' Jacob demanded angrily. ‘Where have you been?'

‘Who's that with you?' Ernestine peered over her husband's shoulder. ‘She's been with a man, the little trollop. I told you she was up to no good, Jake my love. I think she's had him in her room and that's why it's always locked. I heard moans coming from there. She's been whoring in our home, my love. What do you say to that?'

‘I don't believe it. Not my little girl.' Jacob stared at Mirabel with tears in his eyes, but his expression hardened when he saw Jack. ‘What's the meaning of this? Who are you, sir?'

‘It's not what it looks like, Pa,' Mirabel said hastily. ‘I can explain, if you'll give me a chance.'

‘Guilty,' Ernestine cried, pointing a shaking finger at Mirabel. ‘She's been playing you for a fool, Jacob.'

He raised his hand as if to strike his daughter, but Jack stepped forward, catching hold of his arm. ‘You're mistaken, sir. Your daughter has done no wrong.'

‘You would say that,' Ernestine shrieked. ‘Look at him, husband. He's a seafarer if ever I saw one. He's a seducer of young women and she's fallen for his sweet talk. I won't have her in the house corrupting my innocent daughters.'

‘I – I . . .' Jacob clutched his hand to his chest and fell to his knees.

‘
THIS IS YOUR
fault, you harlot.' Ernestine went down on her knees beside her husband, who had lapsed into unconsciousness. She turned to Charity who had appeared in the doorway wearing nothing but her nightgown. ‘Don't stand there looking stupid, girl. Fetch Wiley. He'll know what to do.'

‘Yes, Ma.' Charity fled.

‘He needs a doctor.' Mirabel choked on a sob. ‘Pa, speak to me.' She moved closer to her father, but Ernestine gave her a vicious shove.

‘Get away from him. This is your fault. You caused this to happen. Where's that bloody man? Wiley, I need you.'

Jack leaned over to feel Jacob's pulse. He shook his head. ‘I'm afraid it's too late.'

‘What?' Ernestine stared up at him, her mouth working soundlessly.