A Place For Repentance (The Underwood Mysteries Book 6) (19 page)

BOOK: A Place For Repentance (The Underwood Mysteries Book 6)
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              “Then what is it?” she cried, tears falling freely now as she tried to writhe and twist her wrist from his grasp.

              “I will not let you slave for us with so little return. Martha and I cannot possibly afford to pay you your full worth and it is wicked to expect you to subject yourself to poverty for our convenience.”

              “That is not your decision,” she cried, still pulling away from him.

              They were both distracted from the altercation by a sudden anguished howl from behind them. Minta had woken and seeing the two struggling and Violette’s tears, she had given vent to a terrified cry, “Papa! Don’t! Hurting Vee!”

              He immediately released the girl and turned to his now sobbing daughter, “Minta, sweeting, please don’t cry.”

              “You hurt Vee,” she snivelled accusingly and Violette sank to her knees, putting her arms around the little girl.

              “No, Minta, papa didn’t hurt me. A nasty wasp stung me. Papa was trying to help.”

              “A wops?” asked the child, hiccupping, but ceasing to wail.

              “What’s wops?” said Prue, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

              “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. Come girls, time to go home. Papa has to go back to work and we shall go and tell Lucy thank you for our lovely luncheon.”

              Will silently offered his handkerchief to Violette, who hastily wiped her own eyes before subjecting Minta to a thorough mopping up of tears and mucus, which had flowed freely from her nose as soon as she began crying.

              “Thank you, Mr Jebson,” she said, handing back the linen square.

              “This is not over, Violette,” he said in a low tone which his daughters could not hear, “We will talk about this again.”

              “We will not,” she said determinedly as she took hold of the children’s hands, “Mrs Jebson hired me and only she can dismiss me.”

              He watched her as she walked away, despair darkening his thoughts and a sort of panic gripping his insides.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

 

 

‘Panem Et Circenses’ – Literally ‘bread and the circus’ – food and entertainment

 

              As it transpired there were not quite the unmanageable numbers of guests which Adeline had feared. It could not be denied that the population of Hanbury was considerably swelled by the presence of the army, for some were married men and had brought families, but most, it must be said, had journeyed to the Peaks alone, with the express purpose of carousing.

              The worthies of the borough very quickly realized that they would do well to make the most of this sudden influx of younger people and the Assembly Rooms, the Spa, the Baths and various other places of entertainment had hasty amendments made to their opening times, their accessibility and the events they were wont to host.

              It was not that the usual visitors to Hanbury were universally aged and decrepit, but in view of the treatments offered, they did tend to be on the elderly side, apart from reluctant young relatives who accompanied them for the purposes of showing such dedication as would ensure a mention in a will. To suddenly have a large number of younger people invading the town was as surprising as it was welcome – at least from a financial point of view. They were to quickly discover that money was not everything.

              Underwood had always been aware, but had managed very neatly to ignore, that there were ladies of the night inhabiting Hanbury. They tended to remain firmly in their own small section of the town, where wise people never ventured, and were discreet in their dealings. This unwritten rule was always going to be swiftly and decidedly broken when a large contingent of soldiers and ex-soldiers arrived, looking for amusement of a sort that was not necessarily encompassed in country dances at the Assembly Rooms.

              At their daily meeting in the Pump Rooms, Underwood and Thornycroft watched this change with alarm and amusement respectively.

              “I understand you were accosted yesterday, Underwood, on your way into the hallowed portals of the Spa,” remarked Jeremy James, with a smirk, delighted that the normally complacent Underwood had been severely discomposed.

              Underwood gave a theatrical shudder of distaste, “My dear fellow, it was mortifying. Lady Hartley-Wells was entering just behind me and I swear she gave me a withering glance that hinted that she thought I was only politely declining the offer because she was there to hear me!”

              Jeremy laughed loudly and raucously at the vision this tale engendered, “Poor you. No doubt she ran straight to Verity and told her tale of your debauchery?”

              Gad, I hope not! Verity would find it vastly amusing to know I had been propositioned. For some peculiar reason she rather enjoys seeing my so-called pomposity deflated.”

              “We all do, my friend. You can be a little over-bearing on occasion,” acknowledged Jeremy, as though the notion had only just occurred to him.

              “Balderdash,” countered Underwood roundly, “I am preternaturally generous of spirit and forbearing. Why on earth you and Verity should imagine I am pompous escapes me entirely.”

              Jeremy snorted rudely, “Well, that was a pompous little speech for a start. Enough of that. How are you enjoying the newly invigorated atmosphere of staid old Hanbury? You must admit that my old comrades have livened things dramatically.”

              “They have certainly done that,” admitted Underwood, with a smile. “Every young lady is suddenly arrayed in her Sunday best, cheeks aglow with judicious application of rouge – unbeknownst to their mamas, who would be chagrined to think that their little darlings were painting and preening in the hope of catching an officer for themselves.”

              “Oh, there are going to be some broken hearts before this is over,” predicted Jeremy, without the slightest hint of sympathy. He had endured some heartlessly cruel rejections by unfeeling, flighty little minxes after his injuries had disabled him and before he met and married his beloved Adeline, so he was not about to waste his finer emotions on those of a similar ilk.

              “Sadly on both sides,” added Underwood, nodding meaningfully towards Elliott and Swann who were both vying for the favours of a young lady unknown to the two older gentlemen, who was flirting outrageously with them both, but all the while was sending longing glances towards Second Lieutenant John Pennyfather. He, arrogant in his rude health, was merely finding his rivals amusing and evidently had no worries that either of them might steal the young woman from under his nose.

              The Wablers’ company had grown to include Jeremy James’ closest comrades from the war and now each day they met first in the Pump Rooms, to see if there was any reason for them to linger – that is to say, if there were any lightly chaperoned young ladies who might be willing to indulge in some coquetry. If these proved to be sparse, or their mamas too vigilant, then the entire company moved on to spend the afternoon in some comfortable hostelry. The evening would see them patronize the Assembly Rooms to attend one of the many balls, or failing that, the theatre, where they could be sure to find sport of a different kind, as the stalls were a well-recognized hunting ground for a certain sort of woman.

              There were others who knew Jeremy less well and they drifted in and out of the circle, but Pennyfather, Puckridge, Limbrick Boxley and Thickbroome had become regulars.  These officers were all unmarried and all still in the service. Many of the other attendees were no longer serving officers and most were married and raising families. Underwood didn’t trouble himself to try and remember their names as they all made it clear that once the party was over they would be on their way. However Pennyfather and his cronies were evidently finding Hanbury much more diverting than they had ever expected to and looked set to become permanent fixtures.

              Watching them all now, Underwood could understand the attraction to the fairer sex. The red tunics of the regimental uniforms were not only dashing, but somehow so well-fitted that any man looked very fine in them, even those with a paunch, or spindly legs. Breeches and shiny boots ensured that a poor calf was quite hidden; epaulettes disguised shoulders which were less than broad and muscular, and bright buttons and sashes drew the eye away from physical imperfections. They were all resplendent in their dress uniforms and Underwood thought that it was a pity that their behaviour did not always live up to the splendid garb which they so casually donned.

              His attention was drawn back to his companion when Jeremy James asked, “Do you attend the ball at the Assembly Rooms this Saturday evening?”

              “It was certainly Verity’s intention that we should,” he answered, without enthusiasm. He did not really care for dancing, though he executed the moves with aplomb, as he did everything he set his mind to. He had been a clumsy dancer until he had worked out that using mathematics helped and since then he had become competent if not carefree. Verity, however, loved to dance and he always felt obliged to partner her for at least two or three sets, though, in truth, she was rarely short of a gentleman who would gladly stand in her husband’s stead. She was so easy-going and amusing that she was a great favourite amongst not only the Wablers, but many other young men in Hanbury too. There were always a few young people who attended such functions merely to appease elderly relatives and Verity’s obvious enjoyment of the entertainments, but without the obligation on behalf of her companion to be similarly enthused, made her a delightful person to be with. 

              “Where is the lovely Mrs Underwood now? She usually accompanies you upon your morning constitutional, does she not?”

              “She does. However, her time has been taken up by that dreadful Jebson woman. She is helping the lady to prepare the shop and living quarters above for the imminent arrival of Will and their children. I counselled her to tell the harridan to go to the devil and that she should hire a cleaning woman, but Verity won’t hear of it. She is far too kind for her own good.”

              Major Thornycroft did not trouble to answer this assertion, it being too obvious an observation to acknowledge.

              “I believe Rutherford Petch took pity upon Will Jebson and delayed his own arrival so that he could assist with the move and they are to use the Pershore carriage to make the journey.”

              “That is good of him,” said Underwood who had not heard this particular piece of news. “I imagine it would be quite an undertaking to travel on the stage with the two little girls.”

              “Very probably,” remarked the major, “Petch is another who is too inclined towards kindness. It will get him into trouble one of these fine days.”

              “I venture to remind you that it already has,” said Underwood grimly. He had not forgotten the ‘trouble’ which had resulted from his association with Captain Petch. The younger man may have been transported to Australia because he was foolish and trusting, but it was Underwood who had nearly paid with his life.

              “Speak of the devil,” said Jeremy suddenly, looking across the room to the huge, glazed doors which were the magnificent entrance to the Pump room, “If I’m not very much mistaken, that is my old friend Rutherford Petch.”

              Underwood glanced in the same direction, “By Jove, it is. And days sooner than expected. Perhaps he had second thoughts about bringing Will with him.”

              The tall, good looking Captain stood for a moment and looked about him, hovering in the doorway, unsure of whether to enter. He too was in his uniform, but Underwood guessed it was only to please his old comrades, for in conversation with the older man, Petch had shown no inclination to renew his membership of the army, rather the contrary, though he admitted he missed the excitement of his old life.

              Jeremy, who had long since grown used to taking advantage of his handicapped condition by behaving in any fashion he choose without earning censure, had no hesitation in calling loudly to hail his friend, who heard him and smiled. He strode to join them, a broad grin adorning his features. Several heads turned to watch his fine physique as he moved across the room, his long stride covering the floor in no time at all. There was a flutter amongst the ladies as his massive shoulders and thickly muscled thighs wove between the crowded patrons. Underwood reviewed his previous notion that any man looked well in regimentals. Rutherford Petch surely outshone them all.

              The way in which the two men clasped hands, the merest hint of unshed tears in their eyes, told Underwood that had Jeremy been able to stand, they would undoubtedly have defied convention and embraced, such was the deep regard in which they held each other.

              “My dear fellow, it is uncommonly good to see you,” said Jeremy James, his voice breaking with emotion.

              Petch simply grinned and pumped his hand with enthusiasm born of affection and the need to show it, but not having any other way to demonstrate his overwhelming happiness.

              “Dear old Thorny, by gad, I’m delighted to be finally here.”

              “What took you so long, you rogue?”

              Petch had the grace to look shamefaced, “Business, you know, old man. I had a lot to deal with when I came home.”

              He turned to Underwood to exchange greetings. They also shook hands warmly and Underwood asked, “All alone, Rutherford? I understood you had a crowd with you?”

              “Oh, I have, take my word on it. You cannot know how much I need a drink right now.”

              “We shall remedy that, forthwith. But where are your fellow travellers?”

              “Cressida has taken Miss Fettiplace to the hotel to rest – her nerves, she assured me, have been quite, quite shredded. Will has taken the girls to their new home. The carrier’s cart is following and he wanted to be there when the stuff arrives. You would not believe how much is needed with a young family,” explained Petch.

              Underwood laughed, “I believe it,” he said shortly, having travelled on several occasions with his daughters.

              “You should perhaps accustom yourself to the notion that such trials will have to be endured more often in the future,” said Jeremy James, laughing unkindly. He was himself a father to a daughter of two summers. “Doubtless it is plotted by your female relatives that your next task should be to marry and produce an heir.”

              His friend’s reaction was not quite what Jeremy James expected. Petch glanced sideways at Underwood and said in an undertone, “You have not told him, then?”

              Underwood shrugged apologetically, “I did not feel it was my place to share your private affairs.”

              Jeremy James looked from one to the other, “Care to confide the secret, cullies?” he said somewhat snippily. He found it utterly astounding and perhaps a little offensive that his two friends, who would not even know each other if not for him, should share some undisclosed nugget, hence his uncomplimentary comment.

              Petch saw that he was not going to be allowed to evade an explanation, so he quickly outlined his future plans to his old friend. The major took the news stoically. There was a part of him that understood Petch’s frustration at the prospect of an uneventful life. Any objection he made would be on his own account and not for his friend.

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