A Mother's Secret (22 page)

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Authors: Dilly Court

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‘Never,’ Belinda said emphatically. ‘I’m insulted by your remarks, Signor Montessori. You would not be so bold if my husband were alive.’

‘He left you with nothing. I can offer you my protection, after all, Lady Davenport, you have nothing to sell other than your body or that of the child who is masquerading as a lady. I could get a high price for a beautiful young virgin.’

Cassy had heard enough. She leapt to her feet and looking round for a missile, her eyes lighted on the silver epergne which normally graced the centre of the dining table but had been set on a chiffonier whilst breakfast was being served. Seizing a handful of fruit, she pelted Leonardo with plums and grapes, catching him squarely in the face with a ripe peach. His shocked expression might ordinarily have made her laugh, but it quickly changed to one of rage and he advanced on her, fists clenched and teeth bared in a snarl. She was saved from a certain beating by Poulton, who entered the room to announce that a hansom cab was waiting to take the master to Victoria station.

‘I should wash your face before you leave, Leonardo,’ Flora said, stifling a giggle behind her hand. ‘An unfortunate accident with flying fruit, Poulton. Perhaps you would be good enough to assist the master?’

Poulton stood his ground. ‘I am no longer in his employ, ma’am. I wouldn’t wipe his face any more than I’d wipe his blooming arse.’ Having rendered them all temporarily speechless, he stalked out of the dining room. Leonardo followed him, shouting something in Italian, the tenor of which made Cassy suspect it was a stream of expletives which would undoubtedly have impressed Biddy and the rest of the inhabitants of Three Herring Court.

Belinda had risen from her seat, but she sank down again. ‘He’s gone, and good riddance I say.’

‘And we must be gone soon too,’ Flora said decisively. ‘Pack a few necessities and what valuables you still possess, and I’ll do the same. I’ve seen this sort of thing happen to people of my acquaintance and the bailiffs will descend on us like wolves on the fold. Bring only what you need. We must not be too obvious.’ She moved swiftly to the door, almost bumping into Poulton.

‘They’re here, ma’am,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I sent them to the master’s study on the pretext that he was there, but he left the house by the back door some minutes ago.’

‘Cassy, run up to my room and bring my jewel case,’ Flora said sharply. ‘Belle, you do the same. Even your paste baubles will fetch something. Pack a few necessities but be quick; those men don’t waste time on niceties.’

‘I’ll find you a cab, ma’am,’ Poulton said, holding the door open for Cassy. ‘Best hurry, miss. The bailiffs are up to all the dodges.’

Flora laid a hand on his arm. ‘We’ll be gone soon. I hope the new owners will take you and the others on, Poulton. You’ve served me well all these years.’

Cassy hesitated in the doorway, hardly able to believe her eyes as she witnessed tears running down Poulton’s cheeks. It seemed as though the stiff-necked butler had suddenly melted into a shivering mass.

‘Hurry, girl,’ Flora commanded in a voice that had to be obeyed. ‘Belle, go with her and make certain you bring my best bonnet with the ostrich feathers and my velvet mantle. I’m not leaving them to be sold at auction to tradesmen’s wives and daughters.’

Lugging two large portmanteaux packed with what both women termed were absolute necessities, they escaped down the back stairs and out through the servants’ quarters. Sounds of hysterical female voices coming from the kitchen were drowned out by the shouts of the bailiffs, who had apparently become suspicious and realised that the master and mistress of the house had absconded. Poulton had found a cab and they bundled into it with the aid of one of the grooms, but two of the bailiffs erupted from the house just as they were about to leave.

‘Hold on a minute, mate.’ The more senior of the men raised an imperious hand to the cabby. ‘I need to speak to the owner of the establishment.’

Flora leaned across Cassy, smiling sweetly. ‘Then you must find my husband, officer. Everything I had belongs to him. I’m just a poor deserted woman, left to fend for herself by a faithless rogue. Drive on, cabby.’

‘Where to, missis?’

For once, Flora appeared nonplussed. She turned to Belinda with a puzzled frown. ‘I hadn’t thought that far.’

Belinda bit her lip. ‘I don’t know anywhere else. What will we do?’

Cassy leaned out of the cab window. ‘Spectacle Alley, Whitechapel, please cabby.’

‘Good grief, girl,’ Flora exclaimed. ‘Whitechapel? What are you thinking of?’

‘It’s somewhere we can be sure of a welcome,’ Cassy said firmly. ‘My best friend, Lottie, lives there with her father. They took me in during the holidays when I had nowhere to go. I’m certain they’ll help us now.’

Flora cast a despairing glance at Belinda, who nodded her head. ‘Mr Solomon is a tailor: a very respectable man, and a kind one too. I met him at Cassy’s school and he was most polite and courteous, a real gentleman. Perhaps he can help us find a house to rent while we sort ourselves out. I mean, your solicitor might be able to salvage something of your fortune, Flora, and then we can move back to the West End where we belong. I have to think of Oliver too. He will need somewhere he can call home when he returns on leave.’

And Bailey, Cassy thought, although she dared not voice his name. If Oliver had home leave then perhaps Bailey would also be allowed time away from the Afghan conflict. Her pulses quickened at the thought of seeing him again. If Bailey were here now he would know what to do. He had promised to find them a home and she knew in her heart that he would keep his word.

‘Very well then,’ Flora said slowly, ‘but tomorrow I will see my lawyer. I don’t intend to spend more than a night or two in that part of town. It’s rife with crime and filth, which may be acceptable to the lower classes, but it isn’t for us, Belle. We won’t stay for a day longer than necessary.’

‘Have you enough money to pay the cab fare?’ Belinda whispered.

Cassy saw Flora flinch, as though this was a question of huge impertinence, and one which had never entered her head. For a moment it looked as though she was about to dismiss the matter as a mere triviality, but she seemed to reconsider and she opened her reticule, taking out a small purse. She opened it and counted the contents. ‘I was going to buy a new pair of gloves with this,’ she muttered, ‘but I suppose someone has to pay the cabby, although I haven’t the faintest idea how much it will cost. One leaves that sort of thing to those in one’s employ.’ She turned her head to stare out of the window as if daring the world to encroach any further upon her.

Cassy squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘We’ll be fine, Mama. I’ll look after you.’

‘My dear girl, I know you will, but it should be the other way round. I should be taking care of you, Cassy.’

‘It don’t matter, Mama. I was used to caring for the nippers, though most of the poor little things died and I could do nothing to save them.’

‘Oh do be quiet,’ Flora said wearily. ‘Isn’t it bad enough we have to come crawling to a little tailor without you reminiscing about your atrocious experiences in the slums of Cripplegate? Don’t say another word or I’ll scream.’

The carriage came to a halt and as Cassy looked down the narrow street she could see her friend’s dark head bent over a seam she was sewing. She leapt out, waving frantically, and when Lottie looked up her face creased into a delighted grin. Abandoning her work, she ran from the shop with her arms outstretched, but she stopped short when she saw Belinda alight from the cab. She bobbed a curtsey. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure, ma’am.’

‘I see they taught you something of manners at that school.’ Flora stepped down onto the pavement, accepting the proffered arm of the cabby who tipped his hat respectfully as she thrust a silver coin in his outstretched hand. Cassy could tell that she had overpaid him quite ridiculously, and she was tempted to demand some change, but thought better of it as Flora dismissed the man with an imperious wave of her hand. It was obvious to Cassy that the toffs never bothered to ask the cost of anything, but that would have to change. Every penny would count in their impoverished circumstances.

‘Won’t you come inside?’ The bell jangled as Lottie thrust the shop door open. ‘Pa, look who’s come to see us.’

Eli Solomon appeared from the dark depths of the shop, his eyes red-rimmed and his posture bent from long hours hunched over his work. His lined cheeks cracked into a wide smile as he recognised Cassy. ‘You are always welcome in my home, Cassy.’

‘It’s lovely to be here again, Mr Solomon.’ She rushed forward to give him a hug, but she drew away, realising that his gaze had wandered to her mother. He stared at Belinda as though transfixed. Cassy had seen this happen a dozen times in the past. Her mother’s radiant beauty was enough to render any man speechless. ‘May I introduce you to my mother, Lady Davenport,’ Cassy said, struggling to remember the lessons in etiquette that the North wind had drilled into her pupils.

Belinda’s smile seemed to light up the dingy little shop as she held her hand out to Eli. ‘We met once before at Miss North’s academy, Mr Solomon.’

His jaw dropped and he stared at her open-mouthed before recovering himself enough to murmur, ‘I remember it well, my lady, but . . .’ He turned his head to send an appealing glance to Cassy.

‘Yes, Mr Solomon,’ she said happily. ‘You heard right. This is my mama. I am her daughter.’

Flora pushed past Cassy with an impatient sigh. ‘Come to the point, Cassy. I’m not standing all day in this dreary little shop while you discuss your parentage.’ She fixed Eli with a stony stare. ‘I am Lady Davenport’s sister-in-law, and as you might surmise when given a chance to catch your breath, we find ourselves in dire straits, which is why we have been forced to come to you for help.’

Eli took a step backwards as Flora towered over him. ‘I – I don’t understand, ma’am.’

Lottie had been holding Cassy’s hand, but she let it slip from her grasp, eyeing her friend in awe. ‘Are you really her daughter?’

‘Yes, isn’t it wonderful? I have a mother at last,’ Cassy whispered. She would have liked to shout the news from the housetops, but this was neither the time nor the place. ‘It’s a miracle,’ she added softly.

Lottie folded her hands in front of her, casting her eyes down and refusing to look at Cassy. ‘Congratulations. I’m happy for you.’

If Lottie had slapped her across the face, Cassy could not have been more shocked by her friend’s reaction to her news. ‘What’s the matter? What’s wrong, Lottie?’

‘You shouldn’t have brought her here,’ Lottie said in a low voice. ‘She’s a lady and she doesn’t belong in Whitechapel. Just look at the other one; you can tell what she thinks of us. How could you do this to my pa, Cassy? You’ve embarrassed him and me. I’ll never forgive you for this.’ Choking on a sob, Lottie pushed past her father and disappeared into the back of the shop.

Chapter Fourteen

Cassy made to follow her, but Belinda caught her by the arm. ‘Let her go, Cassy. Give her time to get over the shock.’

‘Yes,’ Eli said, nodding. ‘This has come as a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. I must congratulate you on your daughter, my lady. Cassy is a good girl and she deserves to be happy.’

Belinda encompassed him with her radiant smile. ‘I am the most fortunate one, Mr Solomon. It’s a long story, but I was forced to give up my child when she was just a baby, which is something I will regret for the rest of my life.’

‘I understand, my lady. Only a parent could appreciate the pain that must have caused you.’

‘Poppycock,’ Flora said angrily. ‘This sentimental drivel is getting us nowhere. If you can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth, Belle, then I will.’

‘I should go after Lottie,’ Cassy said urgently. ‘I need to speak to her.’

Belinda swayed on her feet and Eli rushed to pull up a chair. ‘Please sit down, ma’am. I can see that this is very distressing for you.’ He turned to Cassy. ‘Fetch a glass of beer for your mother, my dear.’

‘Beer!’ Flora almost spat the word. ‘My sister-in-law doesn’t drink beer, sir.’

Fanning Belinda vigorously with his hands, Eli’s mouth twisted into a grim smile. ‘She will have to drink ale while she’s in this part of London, ma’am. The water is putrid and would kill her as easily as a dose of arsenic.’

‘Then give her brandy. For heaven’s sake, use your head, man. Can’t you see that Belinda is a lady and used to better things?’

‘I’ll get the beer,’ Cassy said hastily.

‘No need,’ Belinda said, rallying a little. ‘It was just a dizzy spell. I’m quite all right now, and I think we ought to leave. Coming here was a mistake and an imposition on Mr Solomon.’ She looked up at Eli with an apologetic smile trembling on her lips. ‘I am sorry if we’ve upset you and your daughter. It wasn’t our intention to cause trouble.’

Cassy hesitated, longing to go after Lottie, but unwilling to leave her mother in this delicate state. She could see that Eli had fallen under her mother’s spell, but that only seemed to make matters worse. She twisted her hands behind her back, wishing that there was something she could say or do that would help matters, but Flora was obviously not in a mood for using tact and diplomacy. She took a lace handkerchief from her reticule and made a point of dusting off the seat of a chair kept for valued customers before sitting down. ‘A woman’s touch would make this apology for a business premises much more profitable,’ she said, arranging her skirts around her. ‘What no one seems prepared to admit is that we are destitute, or very nearly. For reasons which don’t concern you, Mr Solomon, we are homeless and virtually penniless. We need to find a property that is cheap to rent until our fortunes are restored.’

Eli straightened up, adjusting his spectacles and angling his head thoughtfully. ‘I’m not sure how I can help you, ma’am. I would offer you accommodation here, but as you can see it is not what you have been used to and there is barely room for myself and my daughter. When Cassy stayed here she had to share Lottie’s bed, although that did not seem to bother the pair of them. I could hear them chattering away and giggling until late into the night . . .’

‘I’m not interested in your personal sleeping arrangements, sir. Do you or do you not know of clean, respectable lodgings suitable for ladies of quality?’

‘Please don’t speak to Mr Solomon in that tone of voice, Flora,’ Belinda said, frowning. ‘We are all equals now and we are throwing ourselves on his mercy, so to speak.’ She looked up at Eli with an expression that Cassy thought would have melted the hardest heart, and it was becoming apparent that Eli could gainsay her nothing. He took her hand and raised it to his lips.

‘I am at your service, my lady. If you will rest here for a while, Lottie will look after you while I go out and do my best to find you suitable accommodation.’

‘At reasonable rates,’ Flora said sternly. ‘And don’t mention that there is a titled lady in question. Tradesmen always charge more when they think the gentry are involved. You may refer to me as plain Mrs Brown and my sister-in-law as Mrs Smith. I think that sounds common enough for us to pass unnoticed.’

Eli shot her a shrewd glance. ‘It almost sounds as though you are evading the law, if you’ll forgive the impertinence, ma’am.’

‘I won’t. Go about your business, my man. When I have settled matters with my lawyer, I’ll see to it that you are suitably reimbursed for your pains.’

Cassy smothered a gasp of dismay. She could cheerfully have slapped Flora’s arrogant face, but she managed to control her anger. There were more pressing matters on her mind and making her peace with Lottie was one of them.

Eli snatched his slightly battered top hat off its peg on the wall and crammed it onto his head. Ignoring Flora, he addressed himself to Belinda, speaking in a gentle tone he might have used to a child. ‘I won’t be long, my lady.’ Crossing the floor, he opened the door that led into the private parlour. ‘Lottie, come here this minute. I want you to look after these ladies while I am out.’ Without waiting for a reply he hurried out into the street, leaving the shop door to jangle on its spring.

‘Flora. How could you speak to him like that?’ Belinda said in an undertone. ‘The poor man must have been mortified and yet he has gone out of his way to help us.’

‘Fiddlesticks! You have to keep these people in their place, Belle. I would have thought you’d have learned how to control underlings from your father, the colonel.’

‘My father treated his men with respect. He was a fair man and a good soldier.’

‘Stop it,’ Cassy cried passionately. ‘Leave Ma alone. You’re one of us now, Mrs Montessori or Brown, whatever you choose to call yourself. You should be grateful to Lottie’s pa for agreeing to help. He’s a real gentleman if ever there was one.’

‘That’s true. My pa will do anything for anybody.’

The sound of Lottie’s voice made Cassy turn with a sigh of relief. She rushed to her side and seized her by the hand. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, and I never intended to embarrass your pa. You’re my best friend and I brought them here because I knew that he would help us.’

Lottie hesitated for a moment, and then she flung her arms around Cassy. ‘I’m sorry too. It was a shock but I’m all right now, and I’m glad you found your real mother. Mine died when I was born and I suppose I was a bit jealous.’

Belinda rose from her seat. ‘Cassy is lucky to know you, Lottie. She told me how you befriended her at school and for that I will always be truly grateful to you.’

Lottie’s pale cheeks were suffused with a blush and she bobbed a curtsey. ‘That’s very kind of you, my lady.’

‘You must call me Belle. Flora is right. We’re all equals and the past is dead and buried. From now on I am plain Belinda Smith.’

Cassy shook her head. ‘No, Ma. If I’m Cassy Lawson, then you should be Mrs Lawson. It’s a good name, and one you gave to me all those years ago.’

Belinda turned away with a sigh. ‘Belinda Lawson,’ she murmured.

‘Smith, Lawson, pumpernickel – it doesn’t matter.’ Flora fixed her gaze on Lottie. ‘I thought you were getting us some refreshment, girl? I’m parched and something to eat wouldn’t go amiss.’ She fished in her reticule and brought out two silver shillings. ‘Go out and buy some food and a bottle of brandy.’ She thrust the money into Lottie’s hand with a sigh. ‘That’s almost the last of my money. Is there a pawnshop in the vicinity? I must see my lawyer as soon as possible and I’ll need the cab fare to Lincoln’s Inn.’

‘I’ll come with you, Lottie.’ Cassy could not help smiling as she followed Lottie out of the shop. Their predicament might be dire, but having found her real mother at last made her the happiest girl in London and nothing could take that away from her. She linked her hand through Lottie’s arm as they walked towards Whitechapel High Street. ‘Why were you working in the shop, Lottie? I thought you were going to be a doctor?’

‘I was. I mean I am; at least I’ve started after a fashion.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It’s all very well for the government to pass an act allowing women to study medicine, but it’s only well-off families who can afford to send their daughters to medical school. I’ve started at the London Hospital, working as a ward maid, and I’m saving up every penny I can in the hope of studying at Mrs Garrett Anderson’s hospital in Bloomsbury.’

‘You’ll do it, I know you will.’ Cassy gave her arm a comforting squeeze. ‘But shouldn’t you be at work?’

‘I’m on night shifts, so you can have my bed tonight, although I expect that snooty aunt of yours will take it,’ Lottie said with an irrepressible chuckle. ‘Come on, Cass. Let’s get some pie and pease pudding.’

‘Don’t forget the brandy.’

‘Anything to keep the old lady happy.’ Lottie’s smile froze as Cassy dragged her to a halt outside a shop door where a woman lay sprawled on the pavement. Sitting beside her was a small boy of about five or six, holding out a ragged cap.

‘Spare a copper, miss?’

‘Come away, Cass,’ Lottie said, tugging at her arm. ‘The old woman is drunk. If you give her money she’ll only spend it on jigger gin.’

Memories of Biddy and Three Herring Court flashed through Cassy’s mind. She looked closer at the filthy urchin who was staring up at her. His eyes were dull and she could see his collar bones sticking out through the shreds of his tattered shirt, but there was something about him that was achingly familiar, and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the silvery line of a scar on the bridge of his nose. ‘Freddie?’ she murmured. ‘Is it you, Freddie?’

The boy’s expression barely altered as he shook his cap at her. ‘A farthing will do if you can’t spare a copper, miss.’

‘What’s the matter with you, Cass?’ Lottie demanded. ‘I don’t know who Freddie is, but this is just a beggar boy.’

Vague memories of being told that Freddie had been taken in by a soldier’s widow from Whitechapel came back to her now as Cassy leaned down to take a closer look at the old woman. Her mouth was slack and a trickle of saliva dribbled from her lips. Strands of greasy grey hair escaped from her mobcap to cling round her neck like the snakes on Medusa’s head, but even though her clothes were filthy and threadbare, Cassy could see that they had originally been of good quality. Pinned to her shawl, just discernible beneath a coating of grime, was a military badge. Cassy gave her a shake. ‘Wake up, Mrs Wilkins.’

‘How do you know her?’ Lottie asked anxiously. ‘You must be mistaken, Cass. This woman is a drunkard and the child is probably a pickpocket as well as a beggar.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Cassy said, bending lower so that her face was close to the boy’s. ‘Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. Is your name Freddie?’

He nodded his head and Cassy scooped him up in her arms. ‘I knew it. I brought this boy up from a baby, Lottie. He was only nine months old when I last saw him, but I’d know Freddie anywhere. He’s got the biggest brown eyes I ever saw, and that tiny scar on his nose is where he fell over when he was trying to stand for the first time. It bled and it bled, so that I thought it would never stop.’ She rocked him in her arms, but he was having none of it and he struggled to get free.

‘Leave us alone, missis. I ain’t going to the orphanage. You can’t make me.’

She went down on her knees, laying her hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eyes. ‘Freddie, I don’t expect you to remember me, but I’m Cassy. I took care of you when you were a baby. We were separated through no fault of mine, but I’ve always wanted to know what happened to you.’

Before Freddie had a chance to absorb this piece of information, the woman stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes. She stared blearily at Cassy, blinking owlishly. ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded in a slurred voice. She raised herself on her elbow. ‘You leave the boy alone, miss. He’s mine and you ain’t taking him away from me.’

‘I doubt very much if a woman your age could be the mother of this child,’ Lottie said sharply. ‘I think you use him to get money so that you can drink yourself into oblivion. I’ve seen it all before.’

‘I’m a respectable widow, miss. Annie Wilkins is the name, and there ain’t no call to speak to me in that tone.’

‘Maybe not,’ Lottie said sternly. ‘But can you prove that this boy belongs to you?’

Mrs Wilkins attempted to rise but only managed to struggle to her knees. ‘I raised him,’ she said thickly. ‘Freddie, come away from the lady. She’s one of them who take children away from a good home in the name of charity. She’ll put you in an orphanage as soon as look at you.’

Cassy scrambled to her feet. ‘No, you’ve got it all wrong, ma’am. My grandfather was Colonel Phillips, and I believe that your husband served under him in India. I’m right, aren’t I?’

Mrs Wilkins focused her eyes on Cassy’s face with obvious difficulty. ‘You’re Miss Belinda’s daughter?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Come away from them, Ma,’ Freddie said, tugging at her. ‘Don’t let ’em take me away.’

‘I can’t think straight.’ Mrs Wilkins ran her hand across her eyes as if hoping such an action would clear her fuddled brain. ‘I need a drop of porter to set me up again.’

‘Leave them,’ Lottie urged. ‘We’ve got things to do, Cass.’

‘I can’t abandon Freddie for the second time.’ Cassy held her hand out to the boy who was hiding behind Mrs Wilkins, and sucking his thumb. ‘I won’t put you in an orphanage, Freddie. I won’t take you away from your mother if you want to stay with her, but I will find a way to help you both.’

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