Mermaids Singing (19 page)

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Authors: Dilly Court

Tags: #Historical Saga

BOOK: Mermaids Singing
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Gripping her by the shoulders, Desmond forced Bella down onto her knees. ‘You whore! Do you think I would allow my daughter to be brought up by you and that rake?’

The harsh tone of his voice must have reached Leonie even in her feverish state and she started whimpering and thrashing about.

‘Leave her alone,’ Kitty cried, tugging at Desmond’s sleeve. ‘Let her be.’

‘Pick on someone your own size. You’re nothing but a bully.’ Maria tugged at his other arm.

Shaking them off, Desmond pointed a shaking finger at Bella, who had hastily scrambled to her feet. ‘I want you out of this house now and I don’t ever want to see you again.’

Drawing herself up to her full height, Bella found she was trembling uncontrollably but it was with cold, hard anger and not fear. ‘I’m staying with Leonie until she’s well again and you can’t make me leave. Do you want to kill your own child?’

Desmond glanced down at Leonie and for a moment his face softened. ‘No, of course not. Leonie is the only good thing to come out of my misalliance with you, but you’ll leave the moment she is out of danger. I want nothing more to do with you and don’t think you’ll get a penny from me. The law takes a poor view of an unfaithful wife and I’m no longer responsible for you.’

‘You’re well rid of him, Bella,’ Maria said, as the door to the day nursery slammed behind him.

‘Nothing matters except making Leonie well again,’ Bella said, sinking down onto a chair by the cot. ‘But if she recovers, I swear to God, I’ll never be parted from her again.’

All that night and well after daybreak, Bella sat by Leonie’s bed, cooling her fever with wet flannels and singing nursery rhymes and lullabies until she lost her voice. Kitty and Maria took turns at sleeping on the truckle bed, making tea and running to and fro with bowls of cold water to refresh the flannels.

‘Mama, Mama. Wake up.’

Bella jerked upright, realising that she had fallen asleep where she sat. Had Leonie spoken to her, or had it been part of her dream? A small hand flapped feebly on the counterpane and her heart swelled with joy as she saw Leonie smiling up at her. The feverish flush had vanished and she looked pale, with dark smudges underlining her blue eyes but they were clear and focused. Bella gave a shout of joy and scooped her up in her arms. ‘My baby, my baby.’ Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks but she was laughing and crying all at the same time. ‘Kitty, the crisis is past. Leonie is going to get well again.’

Leaping up from the truckle bed, Kitty flung her arms around Bella. ‘Thank God. Oh, thank God!’

The doctor confirmed Bella’s hope that Leonie was out of danger. He recommended rest, quiet and nourishing food and advised Bella to get some sleep now that the crisis was past. Leaving Kitty and Maria watching over Leonie and, no doubt, pandering to her every whim, Bella went to her room and ran her own bath. She lay, wallowing in the almost forgotten luxury of hot water and scented bath salts. After a long, refreshing soak, she dried herself on thick Egyptian cotton towels.

Wrapped in her lace
peignoir
, Bella was about to lie down on the bed when Desmond walked unceremoniously into the room. Clutching her wrap to her throat, Bella faced him defiantly. She recognised the gleam of lust in his eyes as they raked across her body, that was barely concealed by a thin layer of Brussels lace but, although she shook inwardly, she was determined that he would not lay a finger on her ever again.

The hot look vanished from his eyes, replaced by a scornful sneer. ‘Don’t worry, my dear. I don’t want tarnished goods. First you seduce my son and then you make a play for your stepdaughter’s fiancé. You’re a bitch on heat and the only fit place for you is back on the streets where I found you.’

‘I’d rather live on the streets than with a brute like you, Desmond, but I won’t leave without my child.’

‘The doctor has convinced me that you should stay here until Leonie is completely recovered. He seems to think that you’re a good mother and that she will be in danger of a relapse if you leave too soon.’

‘I am a good mother. It was you who sent me away. Leonie might not have been so desperately ill if you had let us remain together.’

Desmond shrugged his shoulders. ‘No matter! But let me be plain with you, Bella. I want you out of this house as soon as Leonie is well again. You’ll leave as you came, with just the clothes you stand up in. While you’re here you will confine yourself to these rooms and the nursery suite. And I’d advise you to keep away from Iris. She knows exactly whom to blame for her fiancé jilting her.’

Leonie grew stronger hour by hour, and in a week she was almost completely well, although Bella fretted over the fact that she tired easily and her normally rosy cheeks were pale.

‘It’s nothing that a bit of fresh air won’t cure,’ Maria said, spooning bread and milk into Leonie’s mouth. ‘Speak to Sir Desmond, Bella. Tell him that Leonie should go to the park for the sake of her health.’

Bella pushed her plate away, the cold chicken and salad barely touched. ‘He made it perfectly clear that we’re not to leave the house, or at least, that when I do it will be for the last time. He’s determined to keep Leonie and nothing will change his mind.’

‘And you’re going to put up with that, are you?’ demanded Maria, wiping Leonie’s mouth.

‘Of course not! What do you take me for? We’re getting away from here as soon as I can think of a means, even if I have to sing on street corners.’

‘I never thought I’d say it, but Rackham helped you once and I dare say he’d do it again if you only asked.’

‘Rackham?’ Bella sprang to her feet. ‘I’d die first.’

Despite her brave words, Bella was deeply worried. She was well aware that the servants had been told to watch her every movement, and to report to Desmond if she so much as put a foot on the front doorstep. Time was running out, now that Leonie was well again. At night, when she couldn’t sleep, she paced the floor of her room, making plan after plan and then discarding each one as impossible.

Edward had not replied to her last desperate letter entreating him to persuade Desmond to give her custody of Leonie, and there was no way of knowing whether or not he had even received it. The pain of their parting still stabbed Bella’s heart every time she thought of it, and her body ached with longing. She yearned to feel Edward’s arms around her and his lips, tantalising, teasing and exciting her desire until it was almost impossible to resist. But now he was far away in a foreign land, fighting for his country, and she could not even mention his name in this house, let alone beg for news of him. She had never felt so alone.

In the end Bella came to the painful conclusion that, without outside help, there was no hope of escape and there was only one person whom she could ask. Despise him as she might, Rackham was neither afraid of Desmond nor of public censure. She knew that she had only to swallow her pride and, providing her escape did not interfere with an important card game or a trip to the races, he would be happy to oblige. She had no doubt that Rackham would almost certainly expect her to repay him by becoming his mistress once again, but even that was preferable to the life she had led in the gilded prison of her marriage. If that was the price to pay for escaping with Leonie, then so be it.

Early in the evening on the seventh day after her return from Essex, Bella had just sat down at her escritoire to write a brief note to Rackham when, without knocking, Desmond entered the room. He was dressed for an evening at the opera and he stood for a moment, eyeing her coldly.

‘What do you want?’ demanded Bella, covering the note with her hand.

‘I want you out of this house first thing in the morning,’ Desmond said, tapping his hand with his ebony cane. ‘You will leave quietly and without Leonie.’

‘Never!’ Bella said, leaping to her feet. ‘I’ll never leave my child again.’

Desmond took a roll of notes from his breast pocket and tossed it on the floor at Bella’s feet. ‘That’s the last money that you’ll ever get from me. My lawyers are drawing up the divorce papers and I want you out of my life.’

Bella stared at the crisp, white five-pound notes spilling out onto the thick pile of the Chinese carpet. ‘I don’t want your money, Desmond. I just want my child.’

‘You should have thought about that before you took Rackham as your lover. Leonie is mine and she’ll be brought up to think that her mother is dead. You are dead to me, Bella. You died the moment you attempted to seduce my son.’

‘Your son is worth a million of you, Desmond. I love Edward and he loves me.’

With a howl of rage, Desmond lifted the cane above his head. ‘I’ll kill you for that.’

Chapter Nine

Hearing Bella scream, Kitty burst into the bedroom just in time to see Sir Desmond standing over her with his cane raised above his head.

‘Kill me then,’ Bella cried. ‘For I’ll not leave this house without Leonie.’

‘No!’ Kitty lunged at him but Desmond held her off with one hand, raising the cane higher, his eyes blazing with a wild light that made him look insane.

‘Run, Bella,’ Kitty shouted, struggling to free herself.

Bella stood her ground. ‘I’ll not run away. Strike me down, if you dare, Desmond.’

Shrugging his shoulders, Desmond hurled the cane across the room. ‘You’re not worth hanging for.’ Turning on his heel, he strode from the room.

Kitty ran to help Bella, who was swaying dizzily. ‘Sit quietly and I’ll fetch you a glass of water.’

‘I’m all right, Kitty. I’ve got to think what to do.’

‘He’s a mad brute, my lady,’ Kitty said, chafing Bella’s cold hands. ‘I seen that look in a man’s eyes once and I don’t never want to see it again.’

‘I know what you must have gone through and I know how hard your life has been.’

Angling her head, Kitty looked into Bella’s eyes and recognised genuine sympathy. ‘How could a lady like you know what life is like in Billingsgate?’

‘Believe me, I do. One day I’ll tell you all about it, but for the moment I’ve got to think how to get us all out of here. I have to get Leonie to safety and away from my mad husband.’

‘I know where he lives, my lady. The man who would help.’

‘He will want so much in return.’

‘Have you got a better idea?’

‘You’re right, Kitty.’ Jumping to her feet, Bella went over to her escritoire and sat down, taking up a piece of headed writing paper and a pen. ‘This isn’t the time to be squeamish. I want you to take this to Mr Rackham and beg him on your knees if necessary.’

In less than an hour, Kitty and Rackham arrived back in Dover Street in a hackney carriage. Outside the air was green as pea soup and the fog clogged her nostrils, filling her mouth with the taste of soot and sulphur. Rackham waited in the cab while Kitty slipped in through the servants’ entrance, making her way to the nursery where Bella and Maria were waiting, their faces white and strained with anxiety.

‘I found him,’ Kitty said, breathless but exultant. ‘Mr Rackham is waiting outside in a hackney carriage but he says, make haste. It’s a blooming pea-souper out there, and it’s getting thicker by the minute.’

Waking Leonie from her sleep, Bella soothed her crying and dressed her in warm clothes, making pretence that it was all a game; they were going for a carriage ride in the dark, but they must be quiet as little mice. Bella led the way down the main staircase and Maria followed with Leonie in her arms, leaving Kitty to bring the baggage. The entrance hall was deserted, James was having supper in the servants’ hall and there would be little likelihood of visitors arriving uninvited at this time of the night. Having reached the front door safely, Kitty could have cried with relief.

The choking, evil-smelling fog enveloped them as they stepped outside. Kitty could barely make out the shape of a cab on the far side of the street, although she could hear the horse snorting and moving uneasily between the shafts. Confused by the muffled sound of horses’ hooves and the rumble of carriage wheels coming towards them, Kitty hesitated, peering into the smoky haze, uncertain as to which was Rackham’s cab. She called his name and he answered, but the oncoming carriage loomed from the fog, coming to a halt outside the house. Close behind Kitty, Bella gave a cry of alarm as the door opened and Desmond leapt out onto the pavement.

‘Take the child indoors,’ Desmond barked at Maria, who was holding Leonie by the hand.

With her eyes wide with fright, Leonie began to cry and Maria snatched her up in her arms.

‘Giles, help!’ cried Bella, as he leapt from the cab and ran towards them.

‘And you, Madam, can leave with your lover,’ Desmond said, turning on her with an expression of pure hatred. ‘I’ll take great pleasure in naming Rackham as co-respondent in our divorce case.’

‘I’m leaving, Desmond, but not without Leonie. You can’t take my child from me.’

‘I can and I will. The law is on my side. You are an unfit mother and a wanton. Now get out of my sight.’

‘You can’t do that, old boy,’ Rackham said, stepping between them. ‘Mother and child belong together. You can’t separate them.’

‘And have my daughter’s morals corrupted by a scoundrel like you and her whore of a mother?’

‘You’ve said your piece, Mableton,’ Rackham said. ‘Get Leonie into the cab, Bella.’

‘You can go to hell, Rackham,’ Desmond said, putting himself between Maria and Bella. ‘Lane and the child stay with me.’

Kitty lunged at Desmond as Maria struggled to free herself, but he brushed her off and, stumbling, she would have fallen if Rackham had not reached out and caught her. Lifting her bodily, he tossed her into the hackney carriage.

‘Leave them alone,’ Bella screamed. ‘Give me my baby, Desmond.’

‘Lane will stay here and look after Leonie as she did while you were away in the country. You left your child then. You can do it now.’

Screaming hysterically, Leonie beat her small fists against Maria’s shoulder.

‘You forced me to live apart from Leonie,’ Bella sobbed, flying at Desmond and raking her fingernails down his cheek.

Grabbing Bella around the waist, Rackham swung her off her feet, setting her down behind him. ‘Let Maria and the child go, Mableton, or I’ll have great pleasure in flooring you.’

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