One Taste of Scandal (18 page)

“Very likely,” the valet said with a sniff. “It is often said that the lower classes value a shilling over a life.”

“Bring me my shaving water, will you? I’ll have breakfast downstairs by the fire.”

Judah dressed himself and reached for a case on top of his wardrobe. He loaded his gun, planning to tuck it into his greatcoat. Lawrence had opened the curtains. It looked a pleasant day for November. Though still dark, it wasn’t raining or particularly windy.

The meeting of the Social Democratic Federation had been announced for two-thirty p.m., so he had plenty of time to find Eddy and buy the newspapers. He thought that after, they could have a friendly chat over tea and buns in his office, and discuss the boy’s future.

Lawrence came back in and put a steaming bowl on his washstand.

“Thank you. I think you should go back to bed.”

“I have many duties.”

“I do not care. I am sure Penny does not want your illness any more than I do.”

“Thank you, Captain. I shall stay in my room as much as possible.”

“Thank you.” He did not want the illness to spread through the household or Redcake’s. After a large breakfast, he perused the papers he’d been too busy to read the day before, seeing that two thousand police and four hundred troops had been ordered in and around Trafalgar Square. This was a worse situation than he realized.

He heard a banging at his front door and sent Penny to open it. Then he picked up his mail, finding a note from Alys in response to his thanking her for dinner the other night.

Penny came back into the warm kitchen. “I put her in the parlor, Captain. Miss Cross, that is.”

He glanced at his pocket watch. It wasn’t much after ten a.m. Had George been making trouble again? “Thank you, Penny.”

A few moments later, he opened the door to the freezing parlor. Magdalene was looking at the embroidery on a pillow Beth had given him, still fully dressed in her outerwear.

“I’m sorry. I should have told her to bring you straight to the kitchen. I was not expecting callers today.”

She set down the pillow. Her face was pale, but seemed unmarked by violence. “It is fine. I came because I am so worried about Eddy. Did you find him? Do you know there are five thousand police out? Cavalry men with swords? The streets are madness.”

This was the bucolic England of his dreams? “You should have stayed at home. I was about to leave.”

“Every time I fell asleep last night I remembered seeing that boy’s blood on the rock next to the old stone wall. Do you know? I cannot remember his full name. We called him Jamie. That is all I recall. I can’t let Eddy die too.”

“You are not in charge of him, not even for a game of follow-the-leader, Magdalene.” He took her by the arms and forced her to look at him. “He lives on those streets. He has worked in the Square, side by side with all the homeless who’ve been moving in as long as I’ve been here, and he’s never run into serious trouble.”

“How can you say that, with the beatings he’s taken?”

“He says they are from home.”

“I think he lives on the Square, Captain. I’ve been thinking about it. I will wager he lives there along with all the anarchists.” She wrung her hands.

Judah shook his head. “He manages to keep enough money to buy his papers from day to day. I doubt he could do that if he was living rough.”

Magdalene’s look of assurance faltered. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Stay here, in the kitchen. Penny will take care of you. I’ll walk over to your house and tell your brothers you are safe, then I’ll go and find Eddy.”

“I should go with you.” She lifted her chin.

“No. Not with all those men about.”

“Do not worry about speaking to my brothers. Neither of them is home.”

“They aren’t going to this protest, I hope?”

“No. Manfred caught a train this morning on some errand for Lady Mews and George went to the twins’ school.”

“To visit them or make them return?”

“Visit. My uncle has been working hard to restore my brother’s good sense.”

“That is good news, at least. I shall find my coat and then I will depart.”

“I am coming with you. It is early yet. The protest is hours from now.”

“I do not want to look out for you as well. Stay here so I don’t worry, please.”

“It isn’t proper.”

“Are you afraid the other man will not want you if you are in my house alone?”

She pressed her lips together. “There could be gossip. That I had another relationship.”

“It would not be a lie. We’ve kissed, more than once. I am quite sure you enjoyed the experience.”

She stared at the bare planks on the floor. He hadn’t gone to the expenditure of rugs yet, save the one in his bedroom, and he’d brought that back from India.

“Am I such a bad choice of husband?”

“I was raised be a Society wife, not a tradesman’s wife. I never thought to want anything else.”

“Consider that your brother’s profligacy has ruined you for anyone but a relative.”

“It’s not as if I’m going to marry Geoffrey Cander. The baronet is my fifth cousin. Scarcely a relative at all. And, at least, the baronet does not dislike my family.”

“I can resolve the Lady Bricker situation. You cannot expect me to give up fighting for you.” He gentled his tone.

She said nothing and he was gratified that she hadn’t told him to stop fighting. He sensed a level of indecision still existed in her mind. Finding only one approach that made sense to him, he moved to her, put his fingers under her chin, and tilted her mouth to his.

He was gentle, at least that was his intention, but she met him with a cry almost like a sob. Her mouth opened under his, hot and welcoming. So, he plundered, licking her tongue until it tangled with his, the taste of his morning Assam mingling with her Darjeeling.

Then, he felt a pressure on his chest and realized she was pushing him away. When he forced his legs to obey and moved back, he saw tears were drifting down her cheeks. She wiped them away with a sniff.

“I will not be your problem for much longer. Please, go find Eddy.”

“You’ve never been my problem, Magdalene. You are my delight.”

“I am Miss Cross. We are not in the bakery.” Her back stiffened and her chin came up.

How he loved her stubborn little chin and those rosy, kiss-swollen lips. How he loved
her
. What a moment to discover this truth, so inappropriate yet perfect, when he was about to stride onto a battlefield to save their friend.

He held back his smile and said, “I apologize, Miss Cross,” with studied gravity. He opened the parlor door for her, then led her into his warm kitchen.

“Make Miss Cross a pot of tea, Penny, will you? And whatever else she needs. I’ll be back soon.”

“Be careful, Captain,” Magdalene said. “I wish you’d let me come with you.”

“I will be fine. I’m going in armed, just in case. But as you say, I have plenty of time.”

His estimate of time diminished rapidly when he reached the street and started moving toward Trafalgar Square. Everywhere, he saw people gathering. Pushing his way through the area, he saw that a march was planned for every direction.

Eventually, he realized there was no easy entrance and he began paying attention to any boy about Eddy’s size. He circled the Square, trying to avoid crossing the mass of humanity, then began to thread his way to Nelson’s Column. Soon, he realized there was no way Eddy could be in his normal spot, as Life Guards were guarding the monument on horseback. A few feet away from them, he saw a policeman raise his nightstick and hit a screaming man. The crowd surged toward the monument. Someone threw a drum into the air and two men with sticks attempted to rush a mounted soldier.

As this one scene occurred, he saw better dressed men attempting to pull a cart toward a fountain, to use as a stage, perhaps.

Where would Eddy stand? Had he gone home, wherever that might be? Or to the news shop where he bought his daily supply? No, that was wrong; Eddy bought direct from the publisher. Where was that office? He glanced around frantically, confused by the fact that everyone here was white. Who was the enemy when you couldn’t note them by their dark skin and tribal costume?

“Keep your swords in your scabbards!” he heard a subaltern yell from his position, as one of the mounted cavalry put his hand to his belt.

Judah walked over to the young officer and, steering clear of hooves, called up to him. “When you first came here, did you chase off a newsboy? He’s here every morning.”

“Not me,” said the subaltern.

Judah circled the monument carefully and found a captain, then, after introducing himself, repeated his question.

“Yes, he was here,” the captain said. “I told him to find another perch for the day. We’re in for some nasty business. You should go.”

“Did you see what direction he went?”

The officer shrugged. “That was hours ago.”

Judah thanked him, then began to wander the Square. For now, it was actually quieter than the streets around, since the march had yet to begin. He found a newsboy and made his inquiry.

“Eddy stands at Nelson’s Column,” the youth said. He was about Eddy’s age but looked less scruffy. Perhaps he still had a mother.

“I know, but he was chased off by the Life Guards. Any idea where he would be?”

“Check with the chestnut man who works the northeast corner,” the newsboy advised. “Eddy sleeps in the same building as ’im.”

Judah tossed him a shilling and went northeast, thrilled by this first crack in the mystery. Eddy didn’t live in the Square after all.

He recognized the chestnut seller by the round pan, smelling of charcoal, in which he roasted the chestnuts.

“Apples,” cried the street seller in an Italian accent. “Hot apples, chestnuts! Sixteen a penny!”

Next to the man was a hot potato seller, and she did a far brisker business, with a line of redheaded customers three deep. Judah remembered part of today’s protest was about the Irish question. He went up to the Italian.

“Have you seen Eddy Jackson recently?”

“Eh?” The man pretended to be deaf.

Judah got the point quickly enough and gave him a penny for six uncooked apples. “Now, my man, Eddy Jackson? The newsboy?”

“ ’ e’s at the Column.”

“Not today he isn’t. The cavalry is guarding it.”

“Try down by the Strand. ’e said he’d go there if he couldn’t get into the Square today.”

“Are you responsible for him?” Judah asked.

“Not me. Old ’ighmark is our landlord.”

“Is he a relative of Eddy Jackson’s?”

“I don’t think so. Eddy just came to ’is attention-like, as did the lot of us at one time or another, being the best in our trade.”

Judah glanced at the busy potato woman. “I think you need to consider changing trades.”

Now he was at the opposite end of the Square from where he needed to be. He dashed across as quickly as he could, aware that two-thirty was approaching. Enough people were present now that he could smell human sweat, along with horse dung and the smoky food smells of the vendors. The cart was in place for speakers and he could see banners being waved to the north. Clouds hung in the sky, promising precipitation. He picked up his speed to a fast trot, wishing he was on horseback.

Eventually, he muscled his way out of the Square and craned his neck in the direction of one street corner, then another. Thankfully he was a full head taller than many of the stunted protestors. How was he going to find one undersized newspaper boy?

Just then, he thought he heard Eddy’s shout, but a phalanx of policemen passed toward him, sticks in hand. He swore and dashed in the direction of the shout, only to see a ragged boy holding a very familiar cap, running fast.

Stepping in the boy’s path, he grabbed the cap out of his hand.

“ ’ey! That’s mine.”

“No it isn’t.” He took the boy by the shirt. “Stealing right in front of the bobbies?”

The boy wrenched away, tearing his shirt. He stuck out his tongue at Judah and ran.

A group was forming in the street. Judah began to step through, threading his way across to the corner. Women let him pass, but then a huge man stepped in his way and grinned, showing blackened teeth, and not nearly enough of them. Judah tried to step around him to the left but the man danced sideways.

With a sigh, Judah made a fist and slammed it into the man’s jaw. His eyes widened in surprise as he fell back a step. Judah feinted to the right and moved past him, shaking out his hand. His glove had absorbed a little of the blow.

Eventually, he made the street corner, to find Eddy, standing on a box, holding the
Times
high. As expected, the lad had no cap, and his lip was bleeding. His jacket had been half torn off his arm again, but he was still trying to earn his pennies.

Judah grabbed him. The lad winced as Judah pulled him down so he could speak into his ear. “I’ll buy the rest of the day’s papers. Come with me.”

Eddy looked at him with surprise, no sign of a smile today. Judah tugged at him. “Come.”

Eddy stepped carefully off his box, wobbling. On the other side, a boy ran by, grabbing a handful of papers, then moving off in the opposite direction.

“Oy!” Eddy shouted, but Judah kept a firm grip on him.

“I’ll pay for them, Eddy.”

Eddy looked at him, wild-eyed.

“You’re done for the day,” Judah repeated, overturning the box, then snatching the rest of Eddy’s papers and loading them in. “Miss Cross wants you.”

Eddy blinked. “That’s different then. Her brother beat her again?”

M
agdalene heard rustling on the other side of one of two kitchen doors.

“That’s the tradesman’s entrance,” Penny commented. She sat at the other end of the table, calmly peeling potatoes, while Magdalene fretted. Penny seemed a severe sort, unlike her Hetty. She wondered if the servants mirrored their master’s personalities.

Judah brought Eddy in through the back door, dropping a box of papers next to the stove. Magdalene cried out when she saw Eddy’s bloody face. Judah appeared undamaged, at least. Penny ran for towels.

Eddy smiled at her as she rose and came to him. “Miss Cross!”

“Your jaw is bruising,” Magdalene said, after she’d pulled him toward the gaslight and examined his face.

Eddy thrust his tongue into his cheek. “I think ’e loosed a few of my teeth.”

“I saw you were limping. What happened?” Judah tossed Eddy’s cap onto the table.

“Where’d you get that, guv?” Eddy snatched it and slapped it on his head.

“A little tosser ran off with it.”

He shook his head admiringly. “I never thought to see it again.”

Magdalene poured him a cup of tea from her cooling pot and added plenty of cream. “Sugar, Judah?”

“I don’t keep it on the table, but here’s a bowl of raisin buns from Redcake’s that I’d been planning to eat at tea.”

“Mind that lip,” Magdalene said as Eddy wrapped his hands around the teacup. “Is it madness out there?”

“More and more,” Judah said. “Little battles everywhere. People are going to die before the afternoon is over.”

“How am I going to get home?” She hadn’t thought this through.

“I sent a note to Hatbrook House, asking for the carriage just before dusk. Hopefully the streets will be clear by then and a fancy carriage will be left alone.”

“Smart idea,” she said, grateful she wouldn’t be compromised by spending the night here. She didn’t trust herself in a house at night with Judah, and the baronet might have second thoughts if he heard rumors about her.

“I met that Italian you live with,” Judah said, sitting next to Eddy. “Who is this Highmark?”

Eddy inhaled a raisin bun in two bites. “ ’e’s the man what will beat me bloody if you don’t give me the chink you promised for my papers.”

“Looks like you were beaten pretty well already.”

Eddy shrugged. “I didn’t want to go into the Square today. I knew it’d be dangerous, and them without money would be taking the day, likely enough. Not the toffs like you who have a penny to spare.”

Magdalene forgot her own problems when she heard this report. Someone had beat him because he didn’t want to try to sell papers during a riot? She bit her lip hard to distract herself from tears.

“How would you like to live here, Eddy?” Judah asked.

Had she heard him right? A marquess’s brother, adding a ragged newsboy to his household?

“Where’s this?” Eddy asked.

“My house. I live here.”

“Does Miss Cross live ’ere, too?”

Judah shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. She is leaving London.”

Magdalene felt hot all over for a moment. He still wanted her, even though she had rejected him. Why couldn’t he want the life she deserved, that they both did, as a part of fashionable Society?

“It’s for the best,” Eddy said. “In my experience, once a man starts ’ittin ’e’s unlikely to stop.”

“My brother has stopped drinking,” she said defensively.

“For now,” Eddy said, with an air of philosophy. “Don’t trust ’im, miss, that’s my advice.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. Was Eddy right? Was it safe to stay until Christmas? Redcake’s needed her, and she could use the travel money, but her home would be so dreary this year and maybe even as dangerous as Eddy’s home was.

“Do you owe this Highmark any money?” Judah said.

“Yes, for the papers and my pallet and food.”

“Does anyone ever escape his accounting?” Judah asked.

“Not unless they leave London,” Eddy said. “And no one ever does.”

“Does he get mail anywhere?”

“No. Least I don’t think so.”

“I’ll take him what he claims you owe if you agree to live here,” Judah said. “How much?”

The boy wiped his lip on a napkin, leaving a streak of blood, and started on another bun. “Four shillings would do it, but you don’t want to go there, Captain. Don’t let ’em see your face.”

“The Italian has already seen me.”

“Give ’im the money,” Eddy cried, frustrated. “ ’e’s an ’onest sort for an Italian.”

“It’s probably close to a week’s wages for the man,” Magdalene said doubtfully.

“It’s worth a try,” Judah said. “But I won’t go today. Tomorrow. I’ll look for him on the way to work. Is he always in the same place?”

Eddy nodded and inhaled his third bun. “If I’m not ’ome tonight, I’ll get a beating.”

“Do you have anything of value there?” Judah asked.

“No.”

“Then you shouldn’t worry. Penny, could you dish up a bowl of soup for the lad, then figure out how we can kit out the second bedroom for him?”

Penny looked at him like he’d gone mad, but she ladled pea soup into a bowl and placed it in front of Eddy, then went down the hall, muttering. Magdalene had the same feeling. The second bedroom? For a newsboy. She liked Eddy very much, but in helping him, she’d thought vaguely of finding him work indoors, or even a charity school somewhere, not taking him in.

Hours passed before she had a minute alone with Judah. Eventually, the day had worn Eddy down, and they tucked him into a small bed in the second bedroom, then tiptoed down to the parlor. Judah lit the fire and Magdalene brought in the tray they’d readied.

“No raisin buns,” Judah said mournfully.

“We’ll get by with this shortbread Penny found.”

“That’s right.” Judah grinned in a way that made him look not that much older than Eddy.

“It’s very Christian of you to take Eddy in, but what are you going to do with him now?” Magdalene asked. “Give him a job at Redcake’s?”

“I think he should stay out of the public eye for a time,” Judah said. “He needs to heal.”

Magdalene poured the tea, drinking in the sight of his broad shoulders and beautiful, strangely colored eyes. She knew she would see him in her dreams for the rest of her life, wherever circumstances took her.

“I shall hire him a tutor,” Judah declared. “I know he can read; newsboys like to argue the politics of their own papers. A little more education and perhaps he can become a writer himself. That’s how Dickens began his career.”

She shook herself out of her sensual reverie. “You think he is going to become Dickens?”

Judah grinned. Oh, he was handsome. Her stomach seemed to drop into her knees and she knew she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite of shortbread.

“He has intelligence and wit. I think he has a good future if he’s educated properly.”

“He won’t be happy shut up here. He’s used to the streets.”

“It’s not the path to a long life,” Judah said. “He deserves better.”

“But in your home? A bachelor establishment?”

“Since you refused me, you have no say in my establishment, Magdalene.”

“Miss Cross,” she corrected. “I know I do not. But you are bound to have clashes. This is not the life he was raised for.”

Judah set his jaw. “I’ll not have you claiming superiority of blood to someone like me, who does not know his own blood.”

“I’m not,” she started, but met his glare and subsided. Why couldn’t he see that his parentage didn’t matter? He was legally the son of the late Lord Hatbrook, and on his mother’s side, the grandson of an earl. Far superior to wherever Eddy Jackson came from. With a name like that, he should be a prizefighter or some such. “I have his best interests in mind.”

Penny came into the room. “The carriage is here, Captain.”

“Just in time,” Judah said. The light of battle had yet to leave his eyes.

“Please do not think ill of me. I cannot express how relieved I am that he is safe,” she said.

He took her hand. She hadn’t noticed how cold she was, with the fire barely lit, but his palms were both toasty warm against hers.

“I know. You took a risk this morning coming here, one I’d have preferred you not take. I understand what happened to you as a young girl has weighed heavily on your conscience, but I do believe you have paid your karmic debt at last. Eddy will live because of you.”

“Karmic debt?”

“It is an Oriental philosophy. You have done a good deed to offset a bad one, or so the Hindoos say.”

She didn’t really understand, so she said, “I will get my coat and bonnet and be on my way.”

He took her hand. “Still friends? I will see you tomorrow?”

“Will it be safe to go on the Square?”

“I will take a cab to your house.”

She hesitated, and he said, “No proposal this time. You have made your position clear.”

“I am so very fond of you, Captain Shield. I am honored. Perhaps if I had not received what amounts to an offer sanctioned by my family first, I might have answered differently.”

He licked his bottom lip, his eyelashes dusting his lower lashes. “It makes no difference. A no is a no.”

“You are very logical today.”

“I apologize.”

She knew she had made a terrible mess of their friendship and had no idea what to say, so she forced a smile and went out of the parlor, then ran down the hall to the kitchen, as if she could escape her conflicting emotions.

Despite the chaos on the streets, she found a pile of mail on the hallway table when she entered her house. As she removed her coat and hat, she noted all was silent inside, though she could still hear the distant noise of people outside. She had been very grateful to travel home in a closed carriage with footmen to guard her.

Her house, though quiet, did not smell clean, like a place with adequate servants. A hint of dust, a hint of unwashed body, the fish Hetty must have cooked today, drifted unappetizingly through the house and puddled in the hallway next to the front stairs. The huge gap under the kitchen door let out the food smells, but they could not afford to replace it.

Too tired for a conversation or tea, she lit a candle stub and took her letters upstairs. A loud snore emanated from George’s room. All was darkness under Manfred’s door. He had moved down from the attic to the room Nancy had stayed in during her illness, and must not have returned from his secret errand.

Magdalene unlocked her door and put her candle on her dressing/writing table, a scratched and battered affair. Upstairs their furnishings were a poor lot, but like many families, they saved their best for the public rooms while the private only had tattered castoffs. Soon, she would leave poverty behind for the life of the moneyed class. Even leaving London did not seem such a trial on a day like this. Surely Harrogate was free of anarchists and rioters.

She lit her fire and exchanged her boots for slippers, then sat with her letters before changing for bed. After she’d finished reading, she wished she’d saved the missive from Lady Bricker for morning. Now she was being instructed to go to the home of Lady Varney, her friend Constance’s employer, rather than Lady Bricker’s own home. Why? Was she being offered employment instead of a husband?

Either way, she thought it was time to leave. She needed to escape her brother’s home, the employment she enjoyed far too much for a girl on the marriage mart, the man who made her tingle and yearn, even as he steadily made one decision after another that lowered him on the social ladder.

She had to admit though, even the furnishings of his second bedroom were nicer than anything George possessed. Though Judah’s house had no feminine touches, she suspected he lived better than they did, and his clothes were nicer too. He had two servants. It was at least as clean as hers had been when Nancy had been alive and they had kept house together.

She shook her head. Harrogate, that was her release. Not Judah.
Please,
she prayed.
Let the baronet have something of Judah’s charm, intelligence, and good looks. All of it is far too much to ask, but please, something
.

 

“How are your plans for Yorkshire coming along?” Judah asked as he sat next to her in the hansom the next morning. Asking was like reopening a wound, but he couldn’t help picking at it.

“I had a letter from my cousin and I scratched out a reply this morning for Hetty to post.”

He noted she was biting her lip, instead of the hot apple he’d given her. Little puffs of cold air emitted from her lips with each breath and she was pale again. “All is in order?”

“Mmmm,” she said, not really responding.

“Did I do something to anger you?” After her level of engagement yesterday, he’d expected more questions and concerns.

Her blue eyes caught a flash from the lanterns. “No, of course not. How is Eddy?”

“Chafing at the bit. He wants to be out selling papers, not stuck inside a cozy home having a peaceful morning of buns and tea.” He took a bite of his apple, and enjoyed the heat of it.

“You’ll have to pay that Italian today.”

“It is already done,” Judah said, pointing to their apples. “I went to the Square first.”

She took a small bite. “I hope he gives that horrible man his money.”

“He seemed very concerned about Eddy. I think he will do the right thing.”

The bite of apple seemed to go down the wrong way, for Magdalene started coughing. Judah put his hand on her back, alarmed, but the coughing subsided. “You are nervous this morning, Magdalene. Usually you are the steady sort.”

“Yesterday did try my nerves on many levels,” she admitted. “And that is Miss Cross.”

He laughed and stroked her back. “I do not think I could see you as Miss Cross anymore.”