The Ragged Heiress (32 page)

‘Giles doesn’t know what he wants,’ Sir Hector said dismissively. ‘He’s a good fellow, but he lives in a
bubble. His life has been lived in the narrow confines of school, university and then the hospital where the women he meets are either dying of fever or are career-minded blue-stockings.’

‘Mary is not like that, sir.’

‘Of course not. I wasn’t including my daughter with women like Sister Demarest and Matron who would, if she were on the battlefield, have terrified even the Iron Duke.’

‘Mary is an angel, sir. I love her like a sister and I would cut off my right arm rather than hurt her. I agree with your assessment of Giles, and that is why I must go away now before it is too late. He thinks he is in love with me, but I have just aroused his chivalrous feelings and he is sorry for me, which he has mistaken for something deeper. Once I am gone he will turn to Mary, of that I am certain.’

Sir Hector placed his glass down on the sofa table. He came towards her, swaying a little as he walked. He was so close that she could smell the alcohol on his breath, with just the hint of a Havana cigar. She dropped her gaze, unable to meet his eyes, but he placed his finger beneath her chin, raising her head so that she was forced to look at him. ‘You are a good girl,’ he said thickly. ‘You are very young, but I think that you are old for your years. You don’t have to go, Lucetta my dear. There is an obvious answer to both our problems if you will hear me out.’

She brushed his hand away more in panic than anger. ‘Please don’t, Sir Hector.’

He caught her round the waist, holding her tightly
so that her body was pressed against his. ‘You are not a schoolroom miss. You have known what it is to love and want a man, you told me so yourself. I am not trying to seduce you, my dear. I am offering you marriage, respectability, an old family name. In short, Lucetta, I am asking you to marry me. Disregard the gap in our ages, it doesn’t matter. I will do my utmost to make you happy.’

‘Please let me go,’ Lucetta cried, struggling to break away.

‘I won’t hurt you, my little dove,’ Sir Hector said, smiling tipsily. ‘I will treat you like a queen. You will want for nothing.’

She could see that words alone were not going to save her and she went limp in his arms. ‘I don’t know what to say, sir. May I have time to consider your offer?’

He slackened his grip, staring down into her face with an unfocused gaze, and then he released her, bowing from the waist with a flourish. ‘Of course, my pet. Anything you say. But don’t keep me waiting too long, Lucetta. I admit that I might have had a little too much to drink tonight, but my blood is hot and I want an answer quickly. I’ll give you until tomorrow evening, and when you have made up your mind to accept my offer, we’ll be married by special licence and spend our honeymoon in Paris.’ He took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘I will buy your trousseau in the top fashion houses. You will be Lady Harcourt, how does that sound to you, my darling?’

Lucetta backed away from him, forcing her cold lips
into a smile. ‘Too good to be true, Sir Hector.’ She was close to the door now and she made her escape.

She did not stop running until she reached her own room. She locked the door behind her and only just made it to the bed before her knees gave way beneath her. She was trembling violently and for a moment she thought she was going to be sick. Gradually her nerves gave way to anger, but she was furious with herself, not with the hapless lonely man who had offered her a life of luxury and respectability. She must, she thought, have done something terribly wrong in her dealings with men to make both Giles and Sir Hector think that they were in love with her. She had never set out to charm them or to flirt. Perhaps it was her vulnerability and helplessness that had attracted them to her, but whatever it was she could not stay to find out. She must leave now before matters grew too complicated and painful for all parties.

She packed a few necessities in the pigskin valise that Mary had given her, leaving her best silk gown with a feeling of deep regret, but the voluminous skirts would not fit inside the small case, and where she was going she doubted if she would need anything so grand. She waited until the house was quiet and the sound of the servants treading the backstairs to their beds had died away, and then she left her room, creeping downstairs to Sir Hector’s study. Taking a sheet of headed writing paper, she dipped a pen in the silver inkwell and wrote a glowing reference for herself, signing it in a fair copy of Sir Hector’s hand. Having folded it and put it in an envelope, she took another
sheet and wrote a note to Sir Hector. She thanked him and Mary for their unstinting kindness and generosity. She begged their pardon for her manner of leaving, and she urged them not to look for her. She ended by wishing them well, and dashing the tears from her eyes, she blotted the missive and left it in a prominent position on the desk.

She returned to the drawing room and, lifting the sash, she climbed out of the window onto the terrace. It was a fine summer night with a full moon and myriads of diamond-bright stars to light her way. Keeping close to the house, she made her way to the shadow of the trees. She had to struggle with the heavy iron gates but managed to squeeze through without causing the hinges to groan and give her away. Once outside the grounds she set off walking in the direction of Dorchester, where she intended to get the first train to London.

She had no idea how far it was, but she was unused to walking long distances and she soon tired. The valise which had seemed so light at the outset began to feel as though it was packed with bricks, and her arm ached miserably. The thin soles of her boots were not designed for tramping miles on stony roads, and after an hour or so she was forced to sit down by the roadside. She resumed walking after a brief respite, following the Roman road which stretched in a straight line like a silver ribbon between hedgerows and fields where sleeping cows lay like gigantic molehills on the dewy grass. She longed to rest, but it was midsummer and the nights were short As she trudged onwards the end of the road seemed to get further and further away.
She was exhausted and almost at the point of collapse when she heard the clip-clop of a horse’s hooves behind her. She stopped and turned to see a farm cart laden with milk churns lumbering towards her. The farmer pushed his billycock hat to the back of his head, staring at her curiously as he drew his animal to a halt. ‘D’you want a lift to town, maidy?’

‘Oh, yes please.’ Lucetta handed him her valise and heaved her tired limbs up onto the seat beside him. ‘Thank you, sir. I’m much obliged.’

‘Running away, are you?’ He clicked his tongue against his teeth and flicked the reins so that his steady old nag lurched forwards. ‘Maidservant, are you? Going to meet your lover then?’

‘That’s right,’ Lucetta agreed. She was too tired to argue. She leaned back against the hard wooden rail and closed her eyes.

She was awakened with a jolt as the cart stopped and the farmer leapt from his seat to begin unloading the churns. It was sunrise and to her intense relief they had stopped outside the railway station. She picked up her case and clambered down to the ground. ‘How much do I owe you, sir?’

‘Nought, maidy. I was coming anyway.’

Before she had had time to thank him he hefted a heavy churn on his back and staggered off towards the platform where a train was waiting.

Lucetta bought a single ticket to Waterloo and was relieved to find an empty compartment. She settled herself in the corner seat and closed her eyes, but a sudden noise made her snap upright as the door to
her carriage was opened and three young soldiers climbed in laughing and talking loudly.

‘Well, what have we here,’ the boldest of the three said, sitting down beside her. ‘What’s your name, my dear?’

‘Leave her be, Joe.’ The youngest-looking seemed little more than a boy and he took the seat opposite Lucetta. ‘Don’t take no notice of Joe, miss. He thinks he’s a masher but he ain’t.’

‘Shut your face, Billy-boy. This young lady knows a gent when she sees one, don’t you, dearie?’ Joe laid his hand on Lucetta’s knee.

The third soldier, who had the raw-boned look of a man country born and bred, slapped Joe on the back. ‘I’ll have her next, Joe. I’ll show her what a real man can do.’

Lucetta leapt to her feet. ‘Leave me alone. I’m not that sort of girl.’

‘Ho, ho, airs and graces,’ Joe said, pulling her down onto his lap. ‘I like a bit of spirit. Lady’s maid are you, love?’

Lucetta struggled to free herself but he had her tightly around the waist. She took a swipe at his face but she missed and merely knocked his cap sideways over his ear.

‘Let her go,’ Billy said anxiously. ‘There are officers on the train, Joe.’

They had not bothered to close the carriage door and as Lucetta uttered a scream of protest an officer resplendent in a scarlet uniform entered the compartment. ‘What’s going on here?’

The men stood up to salute their superior and Lucetta slid to the floor in a flurry of petticoats.

‘Get out or I’ll put you all on a charge,’ the officer snapped.

Shamefaced like naughty schoolboys the troopers filed out onto the platform and stood to attention. Lucetta scrambled to her feet listening to the officer giving the men a good dressing down before ordering them to find another carriage. A blast from the guard’s whistle was followed by a gust of steam from the engine as it started to pull out of the station. The officer leapt inside the compartment and slammed the door, pulling up the window as columns of steam and smoke blew back along the track.

Lucetta eyed him warily as he took a seat in the far corner. He doffed his plumed hat with a smile and a flourish. ‘I apologise profusely for my men, miss. They meant no harm but they are little better than animals with farmyard instincts and have not the slightest idea how to treat a lady.’ He rose to his feet, swaying with the movement of the train. ‘May I introduce myself, ma’am. Lieutenant Ralph Randall at your service.’

Lucetta managed a tired smile. Her eyelids were heavy and all she wanted to do was to sleep, but in the presence of a strange man she did not dare close her eyes.

‘May I know your name, ma’am?’ Ralph settled himself in the opposite corner of the carriage. ‘We have not been properly introduced, but I feel in the circumstances that we are no longer complete strangers.’

‘I am Lucy …’ She paused, desperately trying to think of a name other than Cutler. ‘Lucy Guthrie, Lieutenant.’

‘How do you do, Miss Guthrie? Or may I call you Lucy? My friends call me Ralph, so it would seem a fair swop.’

Lucetta nodded, avoiding his curious gaze by looking out of the window at the green fields flashing past at quite an alarming rate.

‘And where are you going, Lucy?’ Ralph continued. ‘Myself, I am going to London for a week’s leave.’

‘I see.’

‘You are not a great talker, are you?’

‘You’ll have to excuse me. I’m tired and I don’t feel like making conversation.’ She could see Ralph’s reflection in the window and he was staring at her. She wished he would go to sleep or read a book, anything to stop him asking so many questions.

‘Go to sleep then. I promise I won’t disturb you, Lucy.’

He was too confident in his own charm and too familiar by half. Lucetta felt suddenly wide awake, but she closed her eyes feigning sleep until the train pulled into the next station. The carriage door opened and she looked up, hoping that he might have decided to change compartments, but to her dismay a burly farmer smelling strongly of the stable yard was about to enter the carriage when Ralph stopped him with a gesture. ‘I’m afraid this compartment is taken, my good man.’

‘Eh?’ The farmer stepped back onto the platform, glowering. ‘There’s plenty of room. I got a ticket bought and paid for, mister.’

Ralph stood up, squaring his shoulders. ‘I am escorting this young lady to London and all the seats are taken. Do you want me to call the guard, sir?’

The farmer backed away. ‘No need to take that tone.’ He stomped off and Ralph slammed the door, turning to Lucetta with a satisfied grin. ‘You will be quite safe with me, Lucy. I will make sure that you have a restful journey to London. You did say that you were going all the way, did you not?’

Lucetta was forced to smile. ‘I didn’t say, but I am going to London.’

Ralph moved along the seat until he was facing her. ‘May I ask what takes you to the metropolis? Are you meeting your sweetheart perhaps?’

‘No. Nothing like that.’

‘Well, then let me guess. You are returning home after a visit to a maiden aunt in Dorset. Your father is
a man of means and you live in Highgate, or maybe in Chelsea.’

Ralph’s easy-going manner and undoubted charm, even if he was fully aware of it, was having the desired effect on Lucetta and she began to relax. She had no idea where she was going or how she was going to manage on her own in London. She had enough money to pay for lodgings for a week or even two if she found somewhere cheap, but she would need to find work quickly. ‘I am going to London to look for a position,’ she said, deciding to trust him. ‘I have been working as a secretary. I have references.’

‘Well now, that does surprise me.’ Ralph angled his head, giving her an appraising look. ‘I would have said your clothes cost a lot more than a secretary could afford. I think there is a mystery here, Lucy Guthrie.’

She opened her mouth to protest but he held up his hands. ‘All right. I won’t ask any awkward questions and I want to help you. Have you anywhere to stay in London?’

Lucetta was about to lie but she was desperate and she shook her head.

‘Then I can be of assistance. I am going to visit my aunt who owns a large house in Whitechapel. I know that she would be only too happy to have a young person like you renting one of her many rooms. She is getting on in years and likes nothing better than to have company. She might even be able to put you in touch with a prospective employer. Who knows?’

‘Do you really think so?’ Lucetta knew she was grasping at straws, but this offer seemed heaven sent.

‘I know so,’ Ralph said confidently. ‘Aunt Matilda will love you.’