The Mistletoe Seller Page 2

  The desk sergeant dipped his pen into the inkwell. ‘Name, please?’

  ‘Cordelia Wilding.’

  ‘No, ma’am, the infant’s name, if it has one.’

  ‘Angel,’ Cordelia said firmly.

  ‘Angel?’ He looked up, frowning. ‘Surname?’

  ‘Really, Officer, is this necessary?’ Joseph leaned over the desk. ‘My wife knows nothing of this child. She’s simply caring for the infant until someone comes to take her away.’

  A shaft of fear stabbed Cordelia with such ferocity that she could scarcely breathe. ‘Angel Winter. It’s the name I’ve given the poor little creature who’s been cruelly abandoned by her mother. She needs someone who can take care of her bodily needs, and a home where she will be loved.’

  ‘Don’t we all, ma’am?’ Sergeant Wilkes said drily.

  ‘I suggested the Foundling Hospital, Sergeant,’ Constable Miller took his notebook from his pocket. ‘The infant was found at approximately eleven forty-five in Angel Alley by a Mr James Fowler, the verger at St Mary’s church, and taken into the vestry where this good lady has been taking care of the said babe.’

  The sergeant glanced at the clock. ‘It’s nearly half-past one in the morning, and it’s Christmas Day. I doubt if anyone would be happy to be awakened at this time.’

  As if acting on cue, Angel began to cry and this time no amount of rocking or soothing words made any difference.

  ‘She’s hungry,’ Cordelia said apologetically. ‘A wet nurse must be found immediately.’

  ‘Lumpy Lil is in the cells, Constable Miller. Go and fetch her, if you please. She’s up for soliciting again.’ Sergeant Wilkes shot an apologetic glance in Cordelia’s direction. It was bad enough having a nipper howling its head off fit to bust, without the added complication of there being a lady present. He thought longingly of home and a warm fireside, a pipe of baccy and a glass of porter to finish off a long day. ‘Begging your pardon, ma’am.’

  ‘Lumpy Lil,’ Cordelia repeated faintly. The image this conjured up made her shudder, but Angel’s cries were becoming more urgent, and she supposed that one mother’s milk was as good as another’s, even if the woman was of questionable morals.

  Joseph moved closer to her, lowering his voice. ‘Come away now, Cordelia. You’ve done your best for the infant. Let the police deal with her.’

  She turned on him in a fury. ‘You make Angel sound like a criminal. I won’t abandon her, and I intend to remain here until I’m satisfied that a good home has been found for her.’

  ‘This is ridiculous, my dear,’ Joseph said through clenched teeth. ‘You cannot stay here all night, and possibly all day too. I won’t allow it.’

  Cordelia turned away in time to see Constable Miller escorting a large, raw-boned woman along the corridor that presumably led from the cells. Lumpy Lil lived up to her name – her torn blouse was open to the waist, exposing large breasts, purple veined and threatening to burst free from the confines of tightly laced stays.

  ‘Good grief!’ Joseph stared at her in horror. ‘Surely not this creature.’

  ‘Where’s the little brat then?’ Lil’s words were slurred. It was obvious that she had been drinking and was still under the influence, but Angel was screaming by this time, and much as Cordelia hated the thought of this unwashed, drunken woman laying hands on her pure little angel, she could see that there was little alternative. She cleared her throat, meeting Lil’s aggressive glare with an attempt at a smile.

  ‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you be kind enough to give sustenance to this poor little child, Miss Lumpy?’

  ‘It’s Miss Heavitree to you, lady.’ Lil tossed back her shaggy mane of mouse-brown hair. ‘You never told me the queen was visiting Leman Street nick, Constable Miller.’

  ‘Less of your cheek, Lil. You know what’s required of you.’

  ‘Give us the kid, missis.’ Lil held her arms out, exposing tattoos that ran from her bony wrists to her elbows. ‘I’ll be glad to get some relief from me sore titties. My babe only lived three days, and then the cops brought me in for trying to make a living.’ She spat on the floor at Constable Miller’s feet, narrowly missing his boots. ‘I provides a valuable service, they knows that.’

  ‘Less of your lip, Lumpy.’ Constable Miller poked her in the back. ‘If you’re willing to take care of the nipper you can use the inspector’s office. He’s at home with his family, where we all should be, and I’m going off duty, so don’t give me any trouble.’

  ‘All right, I’ll see to the little thing. What’s her name?’

  ‘I call her Angel.’

  ‘There’s no accounting for taste. I dare say she’ll be as much of a brat as the rest of ’em when she’s old enough to answer back.’ Lil flung the baby over her shoulder with careless abandon. ‘Lead on, Constable. You can stay and watch if it gives you pleasure.’ She winked at him, but Constable Miller merely shrugged and gave her a push in the direction of the office.

  ‘It would be nothing new to me, Lil. I’ve got five of my own, but I’ll be outside the door, so don’t try to escape.’

  ‘I’ll keep an eye on her,’ Cordelia volunteered as Constable Miller ushered Lumpy Lil and the baby into the inspector’s office.

  ‘You don’t want to mix with the likes of her, ma’am,’ he said in an undertone. ‘She’s not your sort at all.’

  ‘She most certainly is not.’ Joseph laid his hand on his wife’s shoulder. ‘You’ve done your duty by the infant, Cordelia. It’s time to go home.’

  Cordelia Frances Wilding had been brought up to be a dutiful daughter and a biddable wife, but at that moment something inside her snapped. The need to protect the infant was stronger than any other emotion she had felt in her whole life, and nothing anyone said or did would make a scrap of difference.

  ‘Go home, Joseph,’ she said firmly. ‘I intend to remain here until I am satisfied that Angel will be looked after properly.’

  ‘You are telling me to leave you here? In a police station with common prostitutes and villains of every kind?’

  ‘Yes, I am. I won’t move from this spot until I know what arrangements have been made.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘Or else I’ll bring her home and hire Miss Heavitree as her wet nurse.’

  ‘This is ridiculous. Have you lost your senses, Cordelia?’ Joseph paled visibly. ‘What about my status in the business world – have you considered that?’

  She turned her back on him. ‘I’m not listening.’

  Joseph stared at her in horror. This angry person was not the docile wife who had run his household and acted as hostess to his business acquaintances for more than twenty-five years. He barely recognised the mutinous woman who was openly defying him, and worse still he felt a wave of sympathy emanating from the desk sergeant. There seemed to be little he could do other than admit defeat and save face by appearing to support his wife.

  ‘Very well, my dear. I can see that this means a lot to you, so I’ll do as you ask, but only if you promise not to do anything rash.’

  ‘I’ll do what I think best, Joseph.’

  Defeated for the first time in his married life, Joseph turned to Sergeant Wilkes. ‘I have to go now, but I’ll send the carriage back to wait for my wife.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I understand.’

  Joseph lowered his voice. ‘I would be prepared to make a generous donation to any charity of your choosing if a suitable home can be found for the infant. My wife will not leave until she is assured of this.’

  ‘I can’t promise, sir, but I’ll see what I can do.’

  Joseph turned his head to see his wife looking directly at him and his heart sank. ‘You heard what I said, Cordelia?’

  ‘Yes, I did, and I’ll stay here until I’m satisfied that Angel will be loved and cared for, but don’t be surprised if I bring her home with me, Joseph. I will not be swayed on this matter. It’s Christmas Day – a time for children and families – I can’t abandon her, and I won’t.’

  Chapt
er Two

  Spital Square, Spitalfields – 1871

  Angel put down her sampler and stared out of the window. The square was bustling with life and the sun was shining. She longed to go outside but she was forbidden to leave the house unless accompanied by Lil Heavitree, her nursemaid, although at eleven years of age she thought it ridiculous for a big girl like herself to be waited upon hand and foot by an old woman. Lil must be forty, if she was a day, and her large ungainly figure seemed to broaden with every passing year. Clumsy and prone to using bad language when she forgot herself, Lil was looked down upon by the other servants and Angel was constantly flying to her defence, particularly when her guardian’s personal maid, Miss Nixon, used her wiles to get poor Lil into trouble. Quite often, when Lil’s innate clumsiness had caused her to smash a valuable figurine or one of Mrs Wilding’s best Crown Derby dinner plates, Angel had taken the blame. Aunt Cordelia might grumble, but she would forgive Angel, whereas Lil would probably lose her job. There were times when Angel heard the underservants calling Lil names, referring to her as Lumpy Lil and taunting her about her former life. Angel was not sure what Lil’s crimes had been, but they haunted the poor woman even after nearly twelve years of devoted service.

  Angel leaned forward, attracted by the cries of a young woman selling strawberries. Aunt Cordelia loved the sweet succulent fruit and the season when they were at their best was far too short. Angel leaped to her feet with a show of lace-trimmed pantalettes and a swirl of her silk taffeta tartan skirts, and she ran from the room, grabbing her reticule on the way out. The coins clanked together merrily as she raced down three flights of stairs, flying past the startled housemaid as she crossed the entrance hall and let herself out into the street, just in time to catch the strawberry seller before she moved on to Norton Folgate.

  With a punnet clutched in her hand Angel went to find Aunt Cordelia, but her way to the drawing room was barred by Miss Nixon.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going, miss?’

  Her enthusiasm dashed by Miss Nixon’s tight-lipped expression and sharp tone, Angel wafted the strawberries under the maid’s nose. ‘I bought these with my own money as a present for my aunt.’

  ‘Have you no sense, child?’ Miss Nixon’s voice was laced with acid. ‘The master is dead. Do you think that a few berries will mend a broken heart?’

  Angel stared at her blankly. She heard the words but they made no sense. ‘He can’t be,’ she whispered. ‘I saw him yesterday and he greeted me with such a kind smile.’

  ‘That may be so but he was taken suddenly. An apoplectic fit, so the doctor said. Anyway, it’s none of your business. Go to your room and don’t bother Mrs Wilding. She’s prostrate with grief.’

  Slowly, Angel ascended the stairs. The smell of the warm berries was suddenly nauseating, much as she loved the fruit, and she abandoned the punnet on one of the carved mahogany tables that were placed strategically on each landing. The old nursery on the third floor was now a schoolroom, but Angel’s governess had retired recently, leaving a gap in her life once filled with lessons on history, grammar and mathematics. Aunt Cordelia had insisted that Angel should receive an education fit for a young lady, although Uncle Joseph often stated within Angel’s hearing that filling girls’ heads with knowledge was a waste of time – and now he was dead. It was hard to believe that a large, ruddy-faced man, seemingly in the prime of life, should have been struck down so cruelly. Angel entered the schoolroom to find Lil waiting for her.

  ‘You’ve been told, have you?’

  ‘Miss Nixon said my uncle is dead. Is it true, Lil?’

  ‘Dead as a doornail, love. Felled like an ox, he was. Just got up from the breakfast table, so Florrie says, and collapsed at her feet, and her still holding the coffeepot. It’s a wonder she never spilled it all over him. Not that he’d have felt a thing. He were a goner for sure, and the missis screamed and fell down in a dead faint. Such a to-do.’

  ‘How awful,’ Angel said sadly. ‘It must have come as a terrible shock. I ought to comfort her. Do you think I should go to her now, Lil?’

  ‘Not at this minute, my lovely. The doctor’s been and given her a strong dose of laudanum, and the undertaker will be here any minute. Just stay up here until the missis sends for you.’

  ‘I bought her some strawberries.’ Angel walked over to the window and peered out. ‘It’s such a lovely day.’

  ‘It don’t matter whether it’s raining or sunny – when your time is up, that’s it. The master has gone to his Maker, and I don’t doubt that worry was partly to blame.’

  ‘Worry?’ Angel was quick to hear the change in Lil’s tone. ‘Why was he worried?’

  ‘Well, whatever it was he’s out of it now.’ Lil smoothed her starched white apron with her work-worn hands. ‘I can’t dawdle about here all day. There’s work to do. I just came to make sure you was all right.’ Lil gave her a searching look. ‘You ain’t going to pipe your eye, are you?’

  ‘No, I feel sad, but somehow I can’t cry for Uncle Joseph. I know he never wanted me to come and live here.’

  Lil twisted her lips into a crooked smile. ‘That was true at the outset, but he came round in the end. The missis can be very persuasive when she puts her mind to it. Now I really must get my carcass downstairs and offer to help or I’ll never hear the last of it.’ She waddled to the door, but she hesitated and turned to give Angel an encouraging smile before leaving.

  Left to her own devices there was little that Angel could do other than wait for her aunt to send for her, but the call did not come. Luncheon was normally brought to the schoolroom at midday, unless Angel was invited to take the meal with her aunt, but she waited until she heard the clock in the hall strike one, and then she took matters into her own hands and went downstairs to the basement kitchen.

  Cook and the young housemaid, Gilly, stared at her as if she were a ghost.

  ‘You should be upstairs in the nursery, miss,’ Cook said severely.

  ‘It’s not the nursery now,’ Angel countered. ‘It’s the schoolroom, and I’m hungry. Where’s Lil?’

  ‘She went to the pharmacy to purchase some laudanum for madam – doctor’s orders. She’s to be kept quiet in a darkened room, and she don’t want to be bothered with the likes of you.’

  Angel was taken aback by Cook’s response. She had never been a cheery soul, but now her tone was belligerent and downright disrespectful. Angel had known from an early age that she was not related to the Wildings by blood, and that she had been adopted by Aunt Cordelia when she was just a baby, but the servants had always treated her with due deference, until now.

  ‘I would like my food sent to the schoolroom, Cook. When Lil returns, please send her to me.’ Angel shot a withering look at Gilly, who was giggling helplessly. ‘I’m glad you think it’s funny. This is supposed to be a house of mourning.’

  Gilly’s jaw dropped and she backed into the scullery. ‘Sorry, miss.’

  ‘On second thoughts, I’ll help myself,’ Angel said, ignoring Cook’s tight-lipped expression as she cut several slices from a freshly baked loaf of bread. ‘Is there any ham or meat left from dinner last evening?’

  Reluctantly Cook opened the larder door and took out a plate of cold beef. She placed it on the table. ‘Is there anything else, miss?’

  ‘You wouldn’t treat me so rudely if my uncle were still alive.’ Angel added some meat to her plate and a pat of butter. ‘My aunt will hear of this.’

  ‘You’ve got a nasty surprise coming to you, miss. You won’t be so high and mighty when the bailiffs arrive.’

  Angel hesitated in the doorway. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’ Cook turned her back on Angel and returned to the range where she had been stirring a bubbling pan of soup.

  Angel took the plate to her room, but as she nibbled a slice of bread and butter her appetite deserted her and she left the remainder of the food untouched. She wanted to go to her aunt and comfort her, but Li
l’s words of warning made her hesitate, and just when she had made up her mind to ignore them anyway, Lil burst into the room. She trailed her woollen shawl behind her and her straw bonnet was askew, allowing wisps of hair to cling damply to her forehead.

  ‘I’ve just run all the way from the pharmacy, Angel. The undertaker’s arrived, love. Mrs Wilding is prostrate with grief and there’s no one but you from above stairs to tell him what’s required.’

  Angel leaped to her feet. Something to do at last. ‘I’ll speak to him.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Lil followed Angel out of the room, clumping down the stairs in her wake. ‘I’ll come with you so that he doesn’t take advantage of your tender years.’

  ‘I’ll deal with it, Lil. Don’t worry about me.’ Angel hurried to the ground floor where she found the undertaker. He clutched his top hat in his hands, but as he turned to greet her his conciliatory smile faded.

  ‘I’m sorry, miss, but I really need to see your mother. Will you tell her that Jeremiah Chancellor is here to await her convenience?’

  ‘Mrs Wilding is my aunt and she is resting at the moment, sir. She must not be disturbed but she will let you have her instructions as soon as possible.’

  ‘If you would be kind enough to tell her that I called, I’ll come again tomorrow.’

  ‘Just you wait a minute,’ Lil said brusquely. ‘You ain’t going and leaving the dead body here, are you? The master is stretched out on the dining-room table. It took me and Cook to heave him off the floor and he’s no lightweight.’

  ‘I have a coffin in the hearse, which is at your disposal,’ Mr Chancellor said stiffly. ‘But it’s customary for the loved ones to rest at home until the funeral.’

  ‘There is the morning parlour,’ Angel said hastily. ‘I’m sure that would be suitable, but you aren’t going to leave him here for long, are you?’

  He looked over the top of Angel’s head, addressing himself to Lil. ‘There’s the question of the necessary arrangements to be made, and there are certain financial matters to discuss. I can only do that with the lady of the house or someone in authority.’