The Ragged Heiress (23 page)

‘That is a grave charge, Mary. The apparent disappearance of the people who would know Lucetta could be purely coincidental.’

‘And very convenient, Papa,’ Mary said, resuming her seat. ‘What do you say, Daisy?’

‘If only my uncle would see me, I’m sure we could come to some arrangement. I really don’t care about the business or the money, but I want to be me again.’ Lucetta stared down at her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. She heard her voice break with emotion and she could not bring herself to meet Sir Hector’s gaze. He might think she was an imposter too, and all her hopes would be dashed.

He cleared his throat. ‘You said that my nephew had paid a call on your uncle, is that correct?’

Lucetta nodded her head. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Giles has been very good, Papa,’ Mary said hastily.
‘He would have done more but you know what dreadfully long hours he keeps at the hospital.’

‘As do you, my dear girl. I am still not happy about you working there, or working outside the home at all if it comes to that. But we won’t speak of such matters now. What is more important is to help Lucetta regain her rightful place in society.’

‘What will you do, Papa?’ Mary asked anxiously.

‘I think the obvious course is for me to visit Mr Bradley Froy. He might be able to browbeat a young fellow like Giles, but I don’t think he will try that with me.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Lucetta said wholeheartedly. ‘I don’t think my uncle would lie to a man like you.’

‘That is most flattering, but we will see.’ Sir Hector placed his empty cup and saucer on the sofa table and he rose to his feet. ‘Now, I must go to my room and change for dinner. I hope that Cook has excelled herself tonight. My housekeeper in Dorset employs what one would call a good plain cook, but I’ve really missed Mrs Bullen’s cooking.’

‘Well,’ Mary said, turning to Lucetta with a smile as the door closed on her father. ‘I told you that Papa would take your side. Aren’t you pleased?’

‘I’m delighted and very relieved. Your father is a real gentleman, Mary. My uncle will crumble when faced with such a man.’

The snow had ceased by morning, leaving a winter-white world glistening in the sunshine. Lucetta gazed out of her bedroom window with a feeling of renewed
optimism. Sir Hector’s arrival had given her fresh hope. She had been so excited at the prospect of his challenge to Uncle Bradley that she had hardly slept, but she did not feel the least bit tired. She had been wide awake when the chambermaid came to clear the ashes from the grate and light the fire, and a tweeny had brought a jug of hot water and fresh towels. Lucetta had risen as soon as the maids had left the room and she had washed and dressed herself, struggling with the laces on her stays and the tiny buttons on the back of her gown; managing as best she could without help.

She sat at the dressing table, brushing her hair and thinking longingly of Naomi’s nimble fingers working swiftly and expertly to create the most flattering coiffures. If she closed her eyes she could shut out the cold white northern light and imagine herself back in sun-drenched Bali, and that made her feel closer to Sam. He was never far from her thoughts and just knowing that his family lived in Devon made their separation a little easier to bear. She could only hope and pray that her letter would reach its destination, and that his feelings for her had not changed.

She captured a strand of silver-blonde hair that had escaped from the chignon she was attempting to create and secured it with a hairpin, although she could do nothing to confine the small tendrils that insisted on curling around her forehead in the most unfashionable manner. She sighed. She would never achieve the sleek style adopted by Mary, whose thick dark hair was worn parted in the centre and drawn back like two glossy raven’s wings to lie in a heavy knot at the nape of her
neck. Lucetta stood up, smoothing the crumpled skirts of Mary’s old gown and hoping that no one would notice the dried mud and water stains on the hemline. She wondered what had become of the winter clothes that had been left hanging in her wardrobe at home. The frocks would be sadly outdated now and maybe a little too short, since she was certain she had grown an inch or two since they had left the cold shores of England, but at least they belonged to her. The thought that her things might have been given away or thrown out for collection by the dustman was too painful to contemplate. She must be positive and think only of the future. With that thought in mind, Lucetta made her way downstairs to the dining room.

Sir Hector was just finishing his meal, and he half rose from his seat as she entered. ‘Good morning, my dear. I hope you slept well.’

‘Yes, thank you, sir.’ A polite lie was better than admitting the truth. Lucetta went to the sideboard to help herself to a plate of buttered eggs and sautéed kidneys. She took her place at the table. ‘Mary is not up yet?’

Sir Hector dabbed his lips with a starched white-linen table napkin. ‘She left for the hospital an hour ago. I wish I could persuade her to give up working like a slave for so little money, but my daughter has a mind of her own.’

‘She is a very good nurse, sir,’ Lucetta said with feeling. ‘I can vouch for that.’

‘I know, and it does my heart good to hear you say so, but I think that young women are being exploited
by their employers, and that goes for all trades and professions.’

‘You are very liberal-minded, sir.’

‘And you are a very intelligent young woman, Miss Froy.’ Sir Hector flashed a charming smile in her direction. ‘I can see that we are going to get on very well.’ He drew a gold half-hunter watch from his waistcoat pocket and he frowned. ‘I am due in my office in less than ten minutes for a most important meeting.’

Lucetta dropped her fork with a clatter. ‘But, sir, I thought you were going to see my uncle today.’

Sir Hector rose to his feet. ‘And I will, my dear. I always keep my promises, but constituency business comes first, and I have urgent matters to attend to. I will pay a call on your uncle after luncheon. I’m afraid you must be patient for a little while longer.’ He paused as he was about to leave the table, and taking a wallet from his inside breast pocket he selected a ten-pound note and laid it on Lucetta’s side plate.

She stared up at him, wide-eyed with embarrassment. ‘What is that for, sir?’

‘I am not blind, Lucetta. I can see that you are in desperate need of some new clothes, and if we are to convince your uncle and the world in general of your true identity, then at least you should look the part. I suggest you take a cab to Oxford Street and visit some of the fashionable department stores where they sell ready-to-wear garments. It will pass the day pleasantly for you and take your mind off your problems.’

‘It’s too much, sir. I really can’t accept …’

He raised an eyebrow and his eyes twinkled.
‘Charity? Think of it as an advance on your rightful inheritance, Lucetta. Now I really must go. We will meet again at dinner this evening.’

Despite feelings of embarrassment and guilt at accepting money from a relative stranger, Lucetta spent a blissful day shopping. She had visited some of the department stores in Oxford Street shortly after they opened, but then she had been accompanied by her mother and Mama’s maid had tagged dutifully along behind them ready to carry any purchases they chose to make. When her parents were alive Lucetta had never been allowed to venture out alone and the experience was as daunting as it was delightful. She received some strange glances from shop walkers and shop assistants alike, but their attitudes changed subtly when they discovered that she had the means to pay for her purchases. By mid-afternoon she was the proud possessor of two new gowns, one for evening in gauzy pink Barèges, and one for afternoon wear in dove-grey tussore trimmed with dashing purple braid. For morning wear she purchased a more practical navy-blue serge skirt and two white cotton blouses, three pairs of lisle stockings, two plain lawn shifts, a pair of stays, three pairs of unmentionables and, lastly, a pair of black boots with high heels that she simply could not resist. She had not thought as far as protective outer garments, but she was sure that Mary would allow her to borrow the warm woollen cloak and the grey-silk bonnet for just a little longer.

Laden with bandboxes, she hailed a cab outside
Peter Robinson’s store in Oxford Circus. She had forfeited luncheon in order to save the cab fare back to Islington, although she had been tempted by the delicious aromas coming from the restaurants inside the larger stores and she was now extremely hungry, but a young woman eating out alone was unheard of. She had taken one look through the half-glassed doors at the head waiter in his black tailcoat and she had known instinctively that she would not be welcome in his domain. She had hurried off in the opposite direction and ignoring hunger pangs she had found fresh delight in the millinery department. Now it was almost dark and the lights from the store windows shone out across the snowy pavements. The shop dummies in their elegant costumes seemed to beckon to her like Lorelei but she was not to be seduced any further. A cab drew to a halt by the kerb and she tossed her purchases onto the seat, climbing in after them. The cabby peered at her through the roof window. ‘Been spending your boyfriend’s hard-earned cash, have you, miss?’

She chose not to respond to his cheeky grin. ‘Lonsdale Square, please, cabby.’

She closed the folding doors and huddled beneath her cloak as she came back to earth with a bump. The cabby had seen her for what she was, just as Phyllis had done. Without a proper identity or the means to support herself she was less than the servants. She was a nobody and they saw through her as though she were as transparent as a pane of window glass.

She arrived back at the house to find Mary and Giles
together in the parlour, their faces flushed with effort as they decorated a Christmas tree that in Lucetta’s estimation must be at least nine foot tall. Giles was balancing precariously on top of a wooden pair of stepladders, while Mary was putting the finishing touches to the lower branches.

‘Oh, there you are,’ Mary exclaimed, turning to Lucetta with a beaming smile. You’re missing all the fun. Isn’t this a splendid tree? Giles brought it from the market as a surprise just for us. Lord knows what his sisters will say when they see it. They’ll be green with envy.’

Giles leaned at a dangerous angle as he pinned a gold star to the topmost branch. ‘I bought one for my sisters too. They will be fighting over the glass baubles and candle holders as we speak, but I prefer the quiet sanity of my uncle’s house to the bedlam wrought by three young women all vying for attention.’

Mary pulled a face. ‘Don’t listen to him. He loves women really, he just likes to pretend that he is superior to us in every way.’ She squealed as Giles shook the tree, sending a shower of pine needles to rain down on her head. ‘Giles, you brute. If you do that again I’ll pull the ladder out from under you.’

Lucetta found herself laughing at their playful badinage, although their obvious closeness struck a painful chord of loneliness deep within her. ‘It’s a beautiful tree,’ she said, giggling. ‘But it will be quite bare of needles if you treat it so badly, Giles.’

Mary fastened the last glass ball on the tree. ‘There, that’s done. Now you must tell me what you bought
today. Phyllis said that you had gone shopping. Did you get what you wanted?’

‘Yes, and more. I’m afraid I’ve been too extravagant. Your father was very generous, Mary, but I will repay him every penny as soon as I come into my inheritance.’

‘I shouldn’t worry on that score,’ Giles said, grinning down at them. ‘My uncle can afford grand gestures. He was a barrister before he went into Parliament, and I think he misses the theatre of the law courts. He is a great one for posturing, like all politicians.’

‘And some doctors,’ Mary said wryly. ‘Get down before you fall down, Giles. You won’t enjoy Christmas if you end up with your leg in splints or worse.’

‘I’d quite forgotten that tomorrow will be Christmas Eve,’ Lucetta said dazedly. ‘I had lost count of time.’

Mary’s smile vanished and twin lines appeared between her delicate winged eyebrows. ‘Of course you have, Lucetta. After all you’ve been through, who could blame you? Why don’t you sit down and I’ll ring for tea.’

Giles climbed down the ladder. ‘That is a capital idea. We were so busy at the hospital that I missed luncheon.’

‘And so did I,’ Lucetta said with a wry smile. ‘But only because I was too shy to go into a restaurant on my own.’

Giles lifted her chin with the tip of his finger and he smiled, but there was sympathy in the depths of his dark eyes. ‘You were quite right, Lucetta. Ladies should go nowhere unattended. I am a modern man but I am
deeply conservative at heart.’ He dropped his hand to his side and turned away. ‘Where is Phyllis? Did you ring the bell, Mary? I’m absolutely ravenous.’

‘Of course I did,’ Mary said, pulling a face at him. ‘If you are so impatient go down to the kitchen and hurry them up.’

‘Do you know, I will.’ Giles clambered over the empty cardboard boxes which had contained the decorations. ‘And don’t talk about me when I’ve gone.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself.’ Mary dismissed him with an airy wave of her hand. ‘I thought he would never go. Now you can tell me in detail what you bought. Men only hate one thing more than shopping, and that is listening to females talking about it. So what did you buy?’

Lucetta sank down on the sofa. ‘I can hardly remember, but we can go upstairs after tea and I will show you everything.’

Mary paused as she tidied the boxes, stacking them in the corner by the door. ‘I’d like that, and when I next go shopping you must come with me. It will be fun, and we will have luncheon in a restaurant. It will be quite proper if there are two of us.’

‘I’ll look forward to that,’ Lucetta said sincerely. ‘And if Sir Hector has had any success with Uncle Bradley, I will be a young woman of means.’

‘Papa will be home in time for dinner. We will know then. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you. Now tell me what you bought. I can’t wait a moment longer.’

By the time Lucetta had run through her string of
purchases, Giles returned with a smug smile on his face. ‘It always pays to be nice to the resident cook,’ he announced as he took his seat by the fire. ‘Just you wait and see.’