CHAPTER TEN
* * *
Averil had arrived at the Home for Distressed Women to find the place in pandemonium. Another of the women was missing, despite all of Gareth’s precautions, and all the locks on the doors. They’d sent Jackson out to search, and Gareth had even been out himself, but without any success. It was as if she had simply vanished.
“Clearly the girl did not want redemption,” Gareth said, disgruntled. “That’s her loss. There are plenty of others to take her place.”
Averil had been secretly mulling over the earl’s offer, but now it seemed too good a plan to keep to herself. Especially now. Wouldn’t Gareth look more favorably upon it, after what had happened this morning?
She took Gareth aside to speak to him. Disappointingly, he wasn’t at all happy with the earl’s offer. Or with her, either, for suggesting it to him.
“What has the earl of Southbrook to say to anything?” he demanded, eyes flashing with fury. She had never seen him so het up. “Donations are one thing, Averil, but trying to take over my Home is quite another.”
Averil was angry, too, but she reined it in, trying to stay calm, to reason with him. “It isn’t your Home. It belongs to the women who live here, and if they don’t feel safe then they’ll stop coming. Mrs. Claxton told me she’s already seen three women leave in three days because they say they’ve changed their minds. Gareth, I think the reason they’ve changed their minds is that they don’t feel safe, because in every direction they look they are confronted by their past. They might come here with the intention of escaping it, but how can they?”
But as usual Gareth wouldn’t hear of it. “You’re being dramatic,” he said sharply.
“I’m being sensible, Gareth. Please, consider what I’ve said. I know you feel strongly about the Home and I know you want the best for the women.”
He shook his head, his hands clenched on the desk in front of him. There was something so distraught about his expression that Averil was silenced. Gareth could be difficult and awkward but this was different. There was something very wrong.
“Gareth?” She came to his side, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Gareth, what is the matter?”
He looked up at her, his eyes full of misery and helplessness. She hadn’t known him as a child—she’d only met her cousin when they were grown—but right now he seemed to have regressed to one.
“Averil, I know this is hardly the time, but . . . I am having difficulties with Baroness Sessington.”
Averil struggled to understand. “The baroness?”
Jackson sauntered past the open door, casting them a sideways glance, heading toward the common room. Averil was tempted to follow him and finally have words with him, but she could hardly leave Gareth in the middle of their conversation. A moment later Averil saw several of the women come hurrying past the other way, as though Jackson’s arrival was the signal for their departures. Surely that was wrong, she thought, but Gareth had reached out to take her hand in his, and she was forced to turn her attention back to him.
“It’s rather personal,” he said, and sighed. “Sit down, Averil. I need to explain to you.”
She sat down on the chair facing him, tense and uneasy. This was not the time to push him into a corner, so she began in a soothing voice that couldn’t quite disguise her concern.
“Gareth. I know you’re worried about the missing girl, but . . . well, you’re probably right and she just didn’t want to be here. And there will be others who do want to come to us. You work hard and—”
He shook his head and curled his hands into fists again. His eyes lifted to hers and she was surprised to see he had a rather sheepish look. As if he’d done something he was not proud of.
“Gareth, please tell me what is going on.”
“The baroness wants me to marry her.”
Averil’s mouth opened and closed.
Watching her, Gareth nodded. “Exactly,” he said.
Averil leaned forward, her voice urgent. “But can’t you say no? For heaven’s sake, Gareth, she is ancient!”
“You shouldn’t be rude, Averil,” he said, more from habit than with any real heart. “The baroness has done a great deal for me. And for the Home. I don’t know how we’d manage without her support, but if I refuse her . . .”
“She’ll redraw that support,” Averil finished for him.
Gareth nodded heavily. “In the circumstances, how can I say no?” he asked her miserably.
“Oh dear. Gareth. I don’t know what to say. You know, if you did marry her, it would cause a most dreadful scandal. Everyone would think you were marrying her for her money.”
“Of course they would, but would that be any worse than what they’re saying now?”
Averil remembered what Beth had told her. The gossip about Gareth and the baroness being more than friends.
“Gareth, are you . . .?” She didn’t know how to phrase it. Perhaps it was safer not to travel down that particular road.
His eyes widened. “No, I am not!”
“No, no, of course not.” She took a breath. “The decision is yours, of course. But would you be happy with such an arrangement? Could you live in such a situation?”
He thought a moment but it was evidently all too much for him. “Averil, I don’t know what to do. She says she is in love with me!”
As irritating as he sometimes was, Averil was fond of her cousin, and she felt for him now. She didn’t want him to be unhappy for the rest of his life. “If only I had my inheritance, I could help you and you wouldn’t need the support of the Baroness Sessington.”
“I am not eyeing off your fortune, Averil,” he said stiffly.
“Of course you’re not. But why don’t you allow me to follow up on this suggestion of Lord Southbrook’s? I know you prefer the Home to be here, but if we find somewhere else, away from the East End, we might be able to send some of the more difficult girls there, away from the rest. I think women like Molly may be stirring up the others to rebel against the rules. It couldn’t hurt to make inquiries, could it?”
It took some persuading but eventually Gareth gave his consent. He was a foolish man, and sometimes a very annoying one, but Averil couldn’t let him down in his hour of need. And Rufus’s offer might well be the way out of their troubles.
Besides, if you say “yes” then you’ll be able to see Rufus again. Soon.
Averil wondered if she was really so devious. No, of course she wasn’t. She genuinely wanted what was best for the women, but the thought of being in Rufus’s company was also a strong motivation. She still shivered when she remembered how he’d kissed her fingers and looked at her so intently. She’d felt as if she could lose herself in those dark, dark eyes. She’d wished, afterward, that she’d had the courage to throw herself into his arms and kiss his mouth, but now she was glad she hadn’t.
He might put her kindly aside, and tell her she was being silly, but then again, he might have ravished her right there in the parlor, and Averil wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be ravished. Well, not yet, anyway. Despite the definite attraction she felt for the earl, she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine one moment of passion would mean they’d live happily ever after. She had her mother as a warning, as well as the many women she met every day in the East End. Passion was one thing; love was quite another.
She glanced now at Gareth, but he seemed deep in his own thoughts, so she made her way toward the common room.
Violet was standing just outside the doorway, eavesdropping, her arms full of mended sheets. The girl looked worried. Whatever was happening inside the room, Violet wasn’t happy about it.
“Violet?”
Violet jumped nervously, and when she turned toward Averil her pretty face was wary. “Lady Averil. I-I was . . . I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Interrupt who?”
“Jackson. He’s talking to the women. He’s asking if anyone knows anything about the missing girl.”
“I see.” Averil didn’t think that was the whole truth. Why would Violet feel the need to stay outside the door listening when the subject concerned her as much as the others?
She moved closer to Violet, forcing her to meet her eyes. They were of a similar height, although Violet was an inch or so taller, and certainly more slender. “If you know anything about the missing girl, Violet, you can tell me. What if something bad were to happen to her? You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“I don’t know anything.” Violet stared straight into Averil’s eyes as she said it, her own pale blue ones defiant. “The others don’t talk to me, do they?”
“Oh? I thought you got on well with the other women? They look up to you, Violet. They see in you what they could become themselves.”
Violet’s eyes flickered for a moment, and Averil could have sworn she saw tears in them. She was just about to probe further when Jackson came out of the common room, interrupting them. Violet took a step backward and Averil saw real fear in her face. “I have to go,” she muttered, and clutching the folded sheets to her chest, she turned and hurried away.
Jackson seemed intent on following, barely giving Averil a glance, but she blocked his path. “Jackson, I’ve been looking for you. Have you been avoiding me?”
He stopped, and if he was annoyed at her he didn’t show it. His ugly face was a blank. “Why should I do that?”
“Perhaps because you ran off and left me?”
His mouth tightened but he didn’t rise to her bait. “I had me reasons.”
“What reason could there be for leaving me alone in the East End?”
No answer.
She sighed. “Is there any news about the missing woman?”
“These tarts,” he said, “they don’t know when they’re well off. She’ll turn up, but that don’t mean she’ll want to come back here. Better money to be had out there on the streets. She liked her gin, that one. She won’t want to give it up for all the doctor’s warnings.”
“I find that difficult to comprehend.”
Jackson gave her a scornful look. “That’s because you’re a lady. These are common trollops.”
“We don’t use that language here,” she said sharply.
Jackson just shrugged, and then his eyes turned sly. “His lordship came to tell me he’d be doing the looking for your sister now. As long as you’re happy with that, Lady Averil.”
“Why wouldn’t I be happy with that?” Averil asked, and then wished she hadn’t. It was exactly what Jackson was waiting for.
“There was talk . . .” He lowered his voice and took a step closer. “Talk that Lord Southbrook let his wife die. Didn’t call on the doctor when she needed one. She was an inconvenience, you see, and he wanted to get rid of her.”
Averil knew her cheeks were hot. “You’re repeating slanderous gossip, Jackson. It was you who left me outside The Tin Soldier, and Lord Southbrook who came to my rescue. I don’t think you can hold a candle to a man like him.”
The look he gave her sent a shiver through her. Her wretched temper had landed her in trouble again, and now her tongue had run away with her and Jackson, already a doubtful friend, was now most definitely her enemy.
She watched him walk away.
Averil felt troubled and concerned. What was going on here? Girls going missing, others too frightened to say anything, and Jackson up to no good. What was she to do? At least Gareth had more or less given her permission to speak to Lord Southbrook about the house on his estate.
He wanted to get rid of her.
Jackson’s words slipped into her head, teasing, mocking her. She forced them out again. No, she wouldn’t listen to gossip. It wasn’t true anyway.
But the gossip about Gareth and the baroness was true, wasn’t it?
Averil sighed. Lord Southbrook did not seem the sort of man to do something so dastardly, but how could she know? She didn’t know him; she only had her feelings to go on.
The Honorable James Blainey and Beth were strolling in the park. She hadn’t meant to agree to his invitation but he was very persuasive and she didn’t seem able to resist him. Whatever trouble James might cause her seemed outweighed by her attraction to him.
She still couldn’t quite believe it.
James was telling her about Lord Southbrook. “He hasn’t had an easy time of it,” he said, pausing to tip his hat as a couple of young women minced past.
“Hasn’t he?” asked Beth curiously. “He seems full of self-confidence and, if you don’t mind me saying so, I believe he can be rather manipulative.”
Instead of being insulted, James laughed. “What man isn’t when he sees something he wants, my dear? I take it you are speaking of Lady Averil? She is a lovely young lady, and one who knows her own mind. Young Eustace is smitten with her.”
“He’s certainly smitten with Hercules!”
James laughed. “And with you, too, Beth, I hasten to add. I am only trying to explain to you why Eustace’s father might also be a little smitten. Rufus has had a lot to deal with in his life. His wife died, you know, at a time when he was not very happy, and left him with the care of his son. The marriage was not an auspicious one, unfortunately, but men will make mistakes. And then there was the scandal after her death. I’d be overjoyed if he finally found some happiness.”
Beth was alarmed, but she hid it. Find happiness with Averil? Did she really want to see her charge shackled to the wicked earl? Not likely! “He’s almost like a son to you, isn’t he?” she said, hiding her doubts with a mild tone.
“At times he’s more like a father! He’s certainly the best friend I could ever have.”
Beth would have liked to have asked James more about his nephew, but if she was too nosy he might clam up altogether. Perhaps it was better to wait until he let something slip—being a very chatty man he was sure to.
She felt even more conflicted. She was enjoying James’s company very much, despite being fully aware that he was not the most respectable of gentlemen, and at the same time she was using him to find out more about Lord Southbrook, in order to protect Averil from his possibly dangerous intentions.
“There is a rose garden at Southbrook Castle, in memory of my mother,” James was saying, “and a shrubbery, as well as herbaceous borders, and then the parkland. The place is rather a mess, I’m afraid. It needs someone with a love of gardens to take it in hand.” He smiled winningly. “Rather like you.”
Beth knew she was being flattered but she couldn’t help but smile back.
“Perhaps you might come and see my gardens one day?” James added, his voice uncharacteristically tentative and therefore completely endearing.
She felt her heart give a flutter.
Oh dear, she thought, I am in desperate trouble. Am I falling in love? At my age? How utterly ridiculous, and how completely inappropriate.
She managed to answer lightly. “I would love to see your gardens. One day. At the moment I am very busy here in London, and with Averil to care for . . .”
James was quiet for a moment and she wondered if she’d hurt his feelings.
“Of course you are,” he said at last. “I forgot. I am at a loose end myself most days, apart from Eustace of course. He and I rub along very well together.”
Beth let him ramble on, telling herself she must be sensible. James was not a reliable man, and despite her enjoyment of his company, it must not go any further. There was something not quite right about the earl and she was going to find out what it was.
When Averil returned home she dashed off a note to Rufus immediately, informing him that she was interested in the house on his estate, and that Gareth had agreed to inspect it with a view to using it for the Distressed Women. She asked if he would meet her to discuss these important matters.
Once that was done she changed her clothing and brushed her hair, and tried not to be impatient. He was probably out on other business. But an hour later a reply came to her by a Southbrook servant, and it set her heart bumping just that little bit faster.
Rufus, Lord Southbrook, would be pleased to ask his land agent to travel down to London, to discuss the house with Dr. Simmons and Lady Averil. There was another matter he wished to discuss with her, too. Something closer to her heart. Might he attend upon Lady Averil this afternoon at four o’clock and take her for a drive in his coach? If that was convenient would she send back a reply as soon as possible?
It was convenient and as the servant was waiting, Averil sent off a reply at once.
The clock struck three o’clock and Averil tried not to be restless. Beth was out somewhere and she felt the emptiness of the house pressing down upon her. It was all she could do not to peer from the windows at the street, hoping to see the coach with the Southbrook insignia upon the door.
Her reflection stared back at her, a little flushed, eyes bright, and she knew she must be careful. Rufus was the sort of man who could ensnare a woman’s heart and then break it, all in a matter of moments. The memory of the earl’s lips on her skin was with her still. Averil was an inexperienced young woman, although working at the Home had certainly opened her eyes. She considered she knew a lot about the seamier side of life.
No, this was business, she told herself sternly. Rufus wished to talk about the house, and about her sister. Perhaps he had found her! Was that what he meant, when he said he wished to discuss something closer to her heart?
Averil paced impatiently about the room, waiting for the earl to come.