A Loving Family Page 24

  ‘But what about Kit? Don’t you care what happens to him? He might be in prison for all we know.’

  Rosa chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. ‘Not my Kit. He’s far too clever to allow that to happen. I expect that he and Perry will continue with this law thing until they tire of it or decide to give up. They’ll never get the better of Uncle Gervase.’

  ‘Very well, but I must do what I think best. I’ll leave tomorrow for London.’

  ‘But you’re supposed to be my maid. How will I explain your sudden departure to Lady Langhorne?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something, miss.’ Stella bobbed a curtsey and walked off towards the green baize door.

  Later, when she was summoned to Rosa’s room to help her dress for dinner, Stella entered to find her friend throwing clothes into a valise. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘You were right and I was wrong. I’ve let this wonderful house and my feelings for Tommy go to my head. You are my dear friend and I’ve been treating you like a servant. I’m sorry, Stella.’

  ‘It had to be like that. I understand.’

  Rosa’s bottom lip trembled. ‘I’m not sure I deserve to be forgiven so easily. I’ve been selfish and thoughtless and I can’t abandon my brother, even though I’d love to stay here and be pampered. We’ll return to London together and see this thing through. If Tommy really loves me he’ll wait for me.’

  The house in Fleur-de-Lis Street was exactly as they had left it, apart from a thick layer of dust on the furniture and spiders’ webs festooning the ceilings and windows. Stella lit the fire in the range and drew water from the pump in the backyard while Rosa laid out the provisions that Mrs Hawthorne had been persuaded to pack for them that morning. ‘It doesn’t look as if Kit has spent much time here,’ she said as they sat down to eat.

  ‘He planned to stay with Perry in Whitechapel.’ Stella broke a bread roll into pieces and added a generous amount of butter. ‘I’ll go there this afternoon.’

  ‘We’ll go together,’ Rosa said firmly. ‘I’ve never felt nervous in this house until now. It’s almost as though there’s something evil lurking in the cellar or the attics.’

  ‘It’s just because it’s been locked up and empty for weeks.’

  Rosa shuddered. ‘It feels as if the house is remembering past events, and not good ones either. Uncle Silas kept your mother a virtual prisoner within these walls. He was as bad as Uncle Gervase, in my opinion.’

  ‘We must speak to Kit and find out if he’s made any progress.’ Stella cut a sliver of cheese. ‘How much money have you got, Rosa? I’ve only got a few pennies left.’

  ‘Tommy gave me two guineas. That should keep us for a while.’

  ‘But not for long. We need to earn some money, but first we must find Kit.’

  They alighted from the horse-drawn omnibus in Whitechapel High Street and entered the narrow confines of Angel Alley. Perry’s lodging house was one of several buildings at the northern end, not far from the Angel Inn, which they hurried past, ignoring the lewd remarks from drunks hanging about the open door. The smell of unwashed bodies, stale beer and tobacco smoke mingled horribly with the stench of overflowing privies and blocked drains. In complete contrast, the lodging houses at the far end seemed relatively respectable, especially when compared to those they had seen in Baker’s Row and Hanbury Street. Green blinds hung at the windows and many of the doors boasted brass plates advertising the comforts within. It was small comfort, but on the whole this was a bad area filled with itinerant Irish navvies and poor immigrants looking for cheap accommodation. Stella could not help comparing this run-down part of the city with Heron Park, and wondering how Kit could stand living in such squalor.

  ‘This is the house,’ she said, stopping outside number four. ‘This is where Perry lives.’

  ‘Knock on the door, Stella.’

  They waited for a response and when there was none Stella knocked again. Moments later a woman wrenched the door open. ‘Give us a chance,’ she said, taking a clay pipe from her lips. ‘Where’s the fire?’

  ‘We’re looking for Mr Perry. I believe he lodges here, ma’am.’

  The woman threw back her head and laughed, exposing a row of rotten teeth. ‘Lawks, we’ve got ladies in our midst. Wait till I tell me old man.’ She brushed a strand of grey hair back from her forehead and leaned forward, squinting at Stella. ‘Who wants to know?’

  ‘We’re friends of his,’ Stella said firmly. ‘And we believe this lady’s brother was lodging here too. Mr Rivenhall.’ She held her breath, waiting for an answer.

  The woman looked them up and down as if calculating the cost of their outfits and assessing their value in the second-hand market. She nodded her head. ‘They might be among me lodgers, or they might not. What’s it worth, ladies?’

  Rosa took a silver sixpence from her reticule. ‘A simple yes or no would do, ma’am.’

  The woman snatched the coin and stuffed it in her pocket. ‘A simple yes it is then, for Perry and the cripple boy, but not the toff.’

  ‘But Mr Rivenhall was here?’ Stella nodded to Rosa. ‘Give her another sixpence. We must know.’

  Reluctantly Rosa handed over the money. ‘Well? Do you know where my brother might be found now?’

  ‘He’s in the Clerkenwell House of Detention awaiting trial. Not that I want such information to get around. This is a respectable lodging house.’

  Stella’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp of dismay, and Rosa swayed on her feet as though she were about to collapse. Stella took a deep breath. She had to be strong for both of them. ‘Mr Perry and the boy? Where might we find them, if you please?’

  ‘Look, lady, this ain’t no hotel with a palm court and all that. Me lodgers have to be out by eight in the morning and in before ten at night or they don’t get a bed. Now clear off. I’ve got better things to do than waste time standing on me doorstep talking to the likes of you.’ She went inside and slammed the door.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Rosa glanced over her shoulder at a group of men who were watching their every move. ‘Poor Kit, I can’t believe that he’s languishing in prison while I was enjoying myself in the country. I feel dreadful, Stella.’

  ‘We have to find Perry. He’s the only one who can tell us what’s been going on in our absence.’

  ‘Let’s get away from this dreadful place,’ Rosa whispered. ‘Those men have been watching us ever since we arrived.’

  ‘Walk on,’ Stella said, taking her by the arm. ‘Don’t let them see you’re afraid.’

  They retraced their steps, heading for Whitechapel High Street. The men made suggestive remarks but did not attempt to stop them, probably, Stella thought, because of the sudden appearance of two burly characters whose ruddy complexions and clothing suggested that they might be farmers’ men who were up from the country for the twice weekly Whitechapel hay market. They tipped their caps and ambled into the Angel Inn, leaving Stella and Rosa to escape into the relative safety of the crowded high street.

  Next day Rosa was still feeling the after-effects of their travels and the dark circles beneath her eyes bore witness to a sleepless night. Stella, who despite everything had slept well, was determined to track down Perry and Spike. As soon as she had breakfasted on tea and toast, she left for the long walk to Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where she hoped to find them at one of the law offices. It was a slim hope but they were a pair that would be hard to miss.

  She arrived mid-morning and began knocking on doors, but no one seemed to have seen Perry for quite some time. She was hot, tired and dispirited, and she sat down to rest on a tree-shaded bench. Lawyers and their clerks went about their business and barristers in their wigs and flapping black robes hurried between the offices and the court buildings, but there was no sign of Perry or Spike. She was hungry and thirsty but she had only a few pennies in her purse and she was determined to save them to pay the bus fare to the prison. She would have liked to cross-examine Perry first but if all else failed sh
e would visit Kit anyway.

  It was late afternoon and heat haze shimmered on the grass, giving it a satiny sheen that made her eyes ache. The hum of bees buzzing as they collected nectar from the flower beds and the chirrups of birds in the trees were combining to make her feel sleepy. She closed her eyes and slept. She was back in the garden of Chalkhill Farm and someone was walking slowly towards her. She knew at once that it was Kit and she tried to call out to him, but no words came from her lips. She tried to shout but she could not make a sound. She tried to run to him but someone was holding her down. Someone was shaking her by the shoulder, calling her name. ‘Stella, wake up. Stella.’

  She opened her eyes and found herself looking up into Perry’s lined face. His grey eyes were filled with concern. ‘Are you all right, duck? You was sound asleep. You’re not ill, are you?’

  She blinked and realised that Spike was standing at her side, holding her hand. His freckled face was puckered in a worried frown. ‘Are you all right, miss?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m fine, and I’m so pleased to see you both. I’ve been searching for you all day.’

  Perry helped her to her feet. ‘Well, you found us. I thought you was safe in the country.’

  ‘Rosa and I came back to find Kit, but your landlady told us that he’s in prison. Have you any news of him? Is he all right?’

  Perry glanced round as if looking for spies. ‘Keep your voice down, miss. You never know who’s listening round here. We’ll see you safe home, and then we can chat.’

  ‘But Kit is all right, isn’t he?’

  ‘As well as can be expected in that place. He’s been there for a month and we’ve been trying to get him released, but his trial is coming up next week. That uncle of his put the finger on him for Clifford’s death, and that of the young woman who died in the caves.’

  ‘But that’s nonsense. We all know it’s not true.’

  ‘We do, miss. But we’ve got to convince the judge and jury that it’s a pack of lies and that ain’t going to be easy. Spike and me have been working on the case for weeks and nothing’s come up that will implicate the real criminal. Mr Gervase Rivenhall has got friends in high places, namely a judge who had a taste for drink and debauchery in the caves. Begging your pardon, miss. I know it’s not a subject to talk about to a young lady.’

  ‘There must be something we can do.’

  Perry gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Believe me, miss, we’re doing everything we can, aren’t we, Spike?’

  ‘Yes, guvner.’ Spike puffed out his chest.

  Stella looked from one to the other, frowning. ‘Have you discovered anything that would help in court?’

  Perry laid his hand on her arm. ‘We’re doing all we can. Come along, miss. We’ll see you safely home.’

  ‘Have you found a barrister who will take Kit’s case?’

  ‘Not yet, miss.’

  ‘But there’s so little time. You have contacts here, Perry. You must know someone who would help.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s a matter of money, miss. A good mouthpiece don’t come cheap, and we’re broke. Can hardly afford the fourpence a night she charges in Angel Alley for meself, let alone the boy.’

  Stella had only seen the outside of the lodging house in Angel Alley, and although the premises seemed better kept than in other areas, she could only imagine what conditions inside might be like. ‘I’d have to ask Rosa, because it’s her house, but we’ve got plenty of rooms in Fleur-de-Lis Street. I don’t see why you couldn’t lodge with us. We’d feel safer with a man about the house, and Spike already has a room there.’

  ‘I dunno, miss. You’d have to be sure that Miss Rosa didn’t object.’

  ‘Of course I don’t object,’ Rosa said, smiling. ‘I think it’s a splendid idea and Kit would say the same if he were here. We’ve all got to work together to get him released, and, as Stella said, we’d feel safer with two men on the premises.’

  Perry’s thin features broke into a wide grin. ‘I can pay the going rate, miss.’

  ‘Let’s say tuppence a night for both of you,’ Rosa said, holding up her hand to silence his protest. ‘That would include breakfast, but you’d have to contribute towards the food if you wanted an evening meal. Does that sound fair?’

  ‘More than fair, Miss Rosa.’

  ‘Well, then,’ she said, getting up from her chair. ‘I’ll take you upstairs and find some clean linen for your beds. You can have the room next to Spike’s.’

  Stella was preparing vegetables to add to the beef bones she had purchased on the way home. She stopped chopping and called to Perry, ‘I want to visit Kit in prison. Can that be arranged?’

  ‘Yes, I want to go too.’ Rosa clutched his arm. ‘You will take us, won’t you?’

  He hesitated. ‘It’s no place for young ladies.’

  ‘I don’t care about that,’ Stella said emphatically.

  ‘Kit doesn’t want you to see him in that place. He made me promise that if I saw you before the trial I would tell you that. In fact he was hoping that it would all be over by the time you returned from Essex.’

  ‘But that’s awful,’ Stella protested. ‘He might be found guilty and . . .’ She could not bring herself to put the outcome into words. She shuddered. ‘We both want to see him, Perry.’

  ‘It’s more than my life is worth, miss.’ Perry pulled a face. ‘Ain’t it, Spike? You know what Kit said; you was there.’

  Spike nodded vigorously. ‘Yes. That’s what he said all right. It’s no place for young ladies like you.’ He sniffed the air like a hungry hound. ‘I don’t suppose we could have some of that soup, could we, miss? It smells so good.’

  ‘Of course you may.’ Stella tipped the chopped vegetables into the simmering stock. ‘I haven’t had time to bake bread, so you can run down to the bakery in Quaker Street and get a couple of loaves. I can see that you’re going to eat us out of house and home.’ She tempered her words with a wink and a smile.

  ‘One day you might make us a cake,’ Spike said hopefully.

  ‘The day that Mr Kit is released from prison I’ll bake the biggest cake you’ve ever seen.’ Stella met Rosa’s hopeful look with a nod of her head. ‘We’ll get him out of that place. I promise.’

  Later that evening, when Spike had gone to bed and Perry had gone out on business of his own, Stella and Rosa sat at the kitchen table drinking tea. ‘What are we going to do?’ Rosa asked urgently. ‘We can’t afford to pay a barrister to defend Kit. We don’t even know exactly what they’re charging him with, other than that he was supposed to be involved in Ronald’s murder and possibly the girl’s too, which is utterly ridiculous. Why would he want to kill that wretched man anyway? What would he have to gain by Ronald’s death?’

  ‘I’m sure other people had stronger motives,’ Stella said thoughtfully. ‘Your Uncle Gervase comes to mind, since they were doing business together. My mother thinks that Ronald might have witnessed the girl’s murder in the caves. I tried to make her talk about that night, but she said she could remember very little.’

  ‘She must have seen something or my uncle wouldn’t have kept her prisoner in the caves. Even though she can’t testify against him in court she could tell the police what happened and there must be other witnesses.’

  ‘Of course. Why didn’t we think of that? There must have been some eminent men attending the party. They wouldn’t want the world to know of their antics so they would hardly come forward.’

  ‘I agree,’ Rosa said slowly. ‘But we don’t know who they are, and Uncle Gervase won’t reveal their identities.’

  ‘He might. If we can convince him that my mother is prepared to go to the police and tell all, he might change his mind.’

  ‘And how would we make him do that?’

  ‘By bluffing, Rosa. Ma is safe with the Hendys. If we can convince him that she’s told us everything we might be able to persuade him to get the charges against Kit dropped before the trial. I’ll need you to get me through the gates,
but if you’re willing we’ll go to Heron Park tomorrow and face him.’

  Wearing their best clothes and travelling in a hired chaise, Stella and Rosa arrived at Heron Place next morning. Rosa managed to convince Masters that her uncle had sent for her and Noakes admitted them to the house unchallenged. ‘Where is my uncle?’ Rosa asked, peeling off her lace gloves.

  ‘He’s in the gun room, Miss Rosa. I believe he intends to spend the day at the home farm, shooting pigeons.’

  ‘There’s no need to announce us, Noakes. I know the way. Come, Stella, let’s go and find him. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see us.’ Rosa waited until they were out of earshot. ‘Or not, as the case may be. I think my uncle is in for a shock.’

  ‘Let me do the talking,’ Stella whispered. ‘I’ve been rehearsing what I would say all night. I’m determined this is going to work. It has to, or Kit is in terrible trouble.’

  ‘The gun room is this way.’ Rosa led her down a series of long corridors to a room at the back of the house. She burst in without knocking.

  Gervase Rivenhall was in the process of choosing his weapon while Hinckley loaded cartridges into a case. They stared at their visitors open-mouthed. ‘What the devil?’ Gervase spluttered. ‘What the hell are you doing here? Are you mad?’

  ‘No, Uncle. Far from it. We’ve come to speak to you privately.’ Rosa stared pointedly at Hinckley. ‘Or we can speak in front of your servant if you don’t mind him hearing things that were better kept between us.’

  Hinckley took a step towards them but Gervase held up his hand. ‘Wait for me outside. This won’t take long.’

  ‘Yes, master.’ With obvious reluctance Hinckley left the gun room.

  ‘You’ve got a nerve,’ Gervase said, glaring at Stella. ‘You interfering little bitch. You’re your mother’s daughter.’

  ‘And proud to be so, Mr Rivenhall. She’s told me everything.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘What has the slut said?’

  ‘She’s named all the gentlemen who attended your party on the evening the girl was murdered.’

  ‘That’s impossible.’

  ‘She was here, but perhaps you think that her mind was so clouded by opium that she couldn’t remember what happened. It’s not true. She’s regained an excellent memory of that particular event and she’s made a written statement naming everyone who was here that night. She witnessed the so-called accident and is prepared to give evidence in court.’