Silver (19 page)

             
“Oh, I believe this place alright,” she replied.

       
They stayed on the dance floor for three more dances before, unaccustomed as she was to the energy required, she needed a break. Bateman was joined almost immediately by several other gentlemen, all eager to know with whom he had been dancing. Elizabeth caught the eye of a waiter and beckoned him forward but before she could take a glass herself, a man had taken one for her and placed it in her hand, introducing himself as he did so.

“
Silver. Avery Silver. And you are?”

“
I,” Elizabeth returned promptly, “am very pleased to meet you.” She raised her hand and watched as the man pressed his lips to her gloved fingers. He seemed amused by her coy reply.

“
Would you care to dance?” he asked.

       
Throwing back the contents of her glass, she raised her eyebrows and shoulders heavenwards to Bateman in a gesture of defeat and allowed herself to be led back to the dance floor. She noticed Bateman’s look of both amusement and jealousy and she was delighted with herself. Silver was a much more accomplished mover than Bateman and she struggled to keep up with him, cursing her own lack of expertise as, twice, she trod upon his feet.

“
You will forgive me I am sure, Mr. Silver, but I am quite out of practice.”

“
Then you must come more often to our little club and get some.”

       
Whirling her to a stop, they stood applauding the band as it was announced that the musicians would take a ten minute break. Bateman was watching from the side of the dance floor and his face turned darker as Elizabeth placed her hand upon Silver’s arm and whispered to him.

“
Why don’t you show me around this palace of yours, Mr. Silver.”

“
It would be my pleasure.” Offering her his arm, he escorted Elizabeth from the dance floor and beyond the watchful gaze of Bateman. Elizabeth knew herself to be fairly tall and she was pleasantly surprised that Silver stood a few inches taller than she. As they climbed the wide staircase, it was too busy to pass arm in arm and Silver took her hand to lead her to the balcony above the grand hallway.

“Do you know Mr. Bateman?” she asked, raising her voice so she might be heard more clearly. At this level, the voices from the ground floor had risen to form an almost impenetrable fug.

“
Giles? Of course. I should say everyone knows Bateman.” She noticed how soft his voice was in contrast to the hard angle of his face. “I might ask you the same question but I fear I know exactly who you are Miss Greenwood. Bateman has told me much about you.”

       
So, Bateman had been talking about her, had he? The thought that he and this Silver had discussed her both annoyed and intrigued her. Far from taking any offence, her curiosity was roused. As they passed on the landing towards the minstrel’s gallery overlooking the ballroom, Elizabeth leaned over the balustrade and picked out Bateman from the crowd.

“
You know, he told me a lot about you too Mr. Silver,” she ventured, turning to face him and arching an eyebrow.

“
And if that were true, what do you think he may have told you Miss Greenwood?”

       
She admired the way he leisurely leaned alongside her and she suspected that he too was trying to pick out Bateman from the crowd below them.

“
Ah Mr. Silver, I think Mr. Bateman would have first told me of your confidence.” She waited to see if he had any reply. “That you are a fine dancer is nobody’s secret. So what would Bateman have wanted me to know about you? Surely any young man would wish to have warned me about anyone who might be dangerous. Are you dangerous Mr. Silver?” She waited as Avery merely lowered his gaze to watch her from under his brow. He licked his bottom lip and waited for her to continue. “He would have warned me about your charm, I think. That you are a collector of fine things, perhaps? Maybe you use your charm to collect fine ladies?”       

       
Silver punctuated her suggestion with a snort of laughter but he continued to gaze down at the rest of the party. She looked at Silver sidelong and took in his features as the noise of the band tuning up below mingled with the hum of the rising conversations. His thick dark hair was worn in the longer style and framed his angular jaw. In comparison to the straw haired, flush faced Bateman, Silver was indeed the finer figure but the ‘something’ less ordinary about his features was the one thing that she could not place. After a few moments of silence between them, Silver smiled and, without turning to face her, addressed her again.

“
I would not trust him anyhow. For a matter of fact, he told me that you were rather plain.”

       
Despite herself, Elizabeth smiled.

“
If he had not told me any of these things, how would you have me think of you Mr. Silver?”

       
Silver cocked his head to take in the young woman before him. Elizabeth had stepped in front of him, one hand on her hip, the other thrust towards him, her pale skin flushed from the heat coming from the dancers below. Her full lips were parted and her eyes were shaded with a sultry gaze.

“
How would I have you think of me? Miss Greenwood, just that. I would be well satisfied if you did indeed think of me?” And with that he placed one arm behind his back and offered his other to Elizabeth. His confidence was different to Bateman’s. Giles’ tone was self-assured but it struck her as cocky. Silver’s self-belief was intimate and it plucked curiosity deep inside her, making her resonate with intrigue. She stepped forwards and placed her hand over his arm and as she did so, the firm muscle in it tensed causing a shiver to run down her spine.

“Shall we?”

~o~

H
eady with the intoxicating buzz of the champagne and the taboo of the evening she had just passed, Elizabeth was a little worse for wear as the cab deposited her and a cross looking Bateman on the Kings Road. She lost her footing as she stepped down from the carriage and fell heavily upon the young man.

             
“Miss Greenwood, please take hold of yourself!” He cast a sullen look at Elizabeth and she could tell that what had seemed a good idea to him several hours ago, now looked to be a very bad lack of judgment. He had not anticipated her getting so drunk and he wished to be rid of his young charge, without any blackening of his own character, at the Greenwoods’ house. Whilst he did not wish to be implicated in her sorry state, neither did he wish to abandon her on these mean streets. In her state, he didn’t reckon on her making it home without interference and although he was vexed at her behaviour this evening, he was not insensible to his public duty.

“
Come along, Miss Greenwood.” He put her arm around his shoulder and escorted her along, the now darkened street, towards the house. Before he had decided where best to try to deposit Elizabeth, whether to chance upon the servants’ entrance or brazen the front entrance, the front door had opened and the thunderous face of Mr. Greenwood had appeared. From behind him, the face of a police constable and a sour faced old woman appeared, taking in the sight of Elizabeth returning home.

“
Bateman!” Mr. Greenwood thundered. “What the devil is the meaning of this?”

“
Hush, Frederick,” the old woman counselled, casting glances towards the darkened windows neighbouring them. A twitch at one curtain revealed that news such as this would spread if they did not keep their voices low.

“
Brown! Help my daughter inside and have Cribbs escort her upstairs,” he hissed. Bateman stood helplessly as Elizabeth was escorted inside the house and out of sight. Relieved as he felt to be delivered of her, Bateman felt the more pressing matter of Mr. Greenwood’s ire. The old man stood aside whilst Bateman trudged inside the house for his grilling.

“
If all’s well, sir, I will conclude my report at the station.” Nodding at Mr. Greenwood and the old woman, ‘Madam’, the constable took his leave, shaking his head as he passed Bateman. As he walked away from the Greenwoods’ house, the constable heard the click of the front door followed by the unmistakable sound of Mr. Greenwood’s shouting. He shook his head and walked off into the night.

I can’t deny that as I listened to Mrs. Evesham talk, I was riveted. It is not very often that any of us catch a glimpse of our parents as they were in their youth and certainly in the circumstances of my own father, his youth was the only key I had to unlocking the secret of who he really was. On the other hand, the picture Mrs. Evesham was painting made my head spin. So, my father was a charming flirt! He had met this woman, Elizabeth Evesham nee Greenwood at a dance. The idea of him gallivanting around London at some private club, charming ladies and being mysterious was not so strange. I will admit that it was an image that was at odds with my own of him; a quiet and studious man who was the centre of family life. Albeit incongruous, it was at least imaginable. I gather from many of the wives I have spoken to, that their husbands have had access to more ‘colourful’ opportunities in their lives than perhaps we would credit them.

“
I can see this is a struggle.” Her voice, still strong was a little hoarse. She had not stopped in over two hours and her lips looked ready to crack. I rubbed my own neck, stiff from holding it in tension, listening and waiting for another shock. But it had not come. I had the feeling Mrs. Evesham had not finished her story and was bracing myself for another revelation.

“
I’m sorry,” she blurted, all at once a flurry of nerves. She walked away from the fireplace where she had wandered and collected her handbag from the chair.

“
I shouldn’t have come here,” she said softly.

“
Mrs. Evesham, you knew my father. You are probably the only living soul who knew him properly so how come I don’t know of you?”

She stepped towards the door, an explanation forming on her lip
s, and scanned my face, her eyes full of tears.

“
I shouldn’t have come here,” she repeated and with that she turned the door of the parlour and stepped outside.

       
I was shocked by her sudden outburst of emotion. It was the only genuine grief at my father’s death I had yet seen. Her abrupt departure took me by surprise and before I could collect my thoughts the sound of the front door closing indicated she had left. I hurried to the hallway calling for Stokes.

“Yes madam?”

“That woman, did she say who she was? Did you know her?”

“
I am afraid not madam. Shall I call after her?”

“
No,” I replied quickly, the thought of giving the vultures beyond my walls another scene to feed them with was enough to stop me. I turned to go upstairs. I had gone but a few steps when Stokes’ added.

“
I took a calling card before I presented her.”

       
I turned to face Stokes, his face looking up at me gravely. He was obviously torn with the decision of with whom his loyalties lay. John would no doubt be informed of my visitors today but the butler held out a small white card:

Mrs.
Robert Evesham

4 Brown Square, Mayfair

“Thank you, Stokes,” I said taking it from him. “Thank you.”

“Did you sleep well, Frederick?”

       
Frederick Greenwood looked up from the breakfast table at his elder sister Georgina Fearncott. His eyes were dark with shadows and he still looked as thunderous as he had done at 2 o’clock that morning, when he had finished his interrogation of young Giles Bateman.

“
Don’t be ridiculous, Georgina. Of course I did not sleep well,” he barked. “My youngest daughter has been gallivanting around London half the night without a chaperone and in the company of the son of a man I am defending for a rather shocking breach of the peace.”

       
Frederick Greenwood rubbed his forehead with finger and thumb, pinching the bridge of his nose, stifling both his rising temper and a yawn.

“
Is she up yet?” he asked more pleasantly.

“
She is ill. With the drink, Frederick that is all.” the older woman added as Frederick looked up with concern. “Cribbs is attending to her. I have told her to wait until she has been sent for.”

       
Georgina sat opposite her brother in the chair his wife had once occupied and began spooning Kedgeree onto her plate.

“
Have you decided what to do with her yet?” she ventured, watching him as she replaced the lid of the serving tureen.

       
Her eyes barely blinked whilst she watched him agonise over how to handle the situation. The anger he had felt towards Bateman last night was still there but he knew he would not be able to use this to any effect with Elizabeth. He was never any good at dealing with the girls. It was something his wife had always handled. How would she have dealt with Bess? He racked his brain trying to imagine her seated where his sister now was and he tried hard to hear what she would suggest. But nothing came. How much simpler would it be if he had boys. He could have dealt with a son in this matter. Would it even have been such a fuss or would he have been proud of a son’s adventurous streak? His sense of daring and a bold will to seek out pleasures wherever they may be found. Feeling his head begin to ache, he rubbed his eyes again and saw Georgina still watching him.

“
What should I do, Georgina?” he asked wearily. “When Agnes told me last night that she had seen Elizabeth dressing up and planned to leave the house in secret, I refused to believe her. I am a poor judge of character to have disbelieved one daughter and been tricked by the other. I am a poor father for always favouring Bessie and now I see that she plays me for a fool. Whatever I do, it won’t be right. Help me, Georgina. What should I do?”

       
Georgina lifted her teacup to her lips, her saucer held just below, and drank long from the pretty china cup. She continued to watch him and, without any consideration of the matter, she replaced her cup and placed the saucer on the table, replying steadily, “I wonder if you would consider my help, Frederick. As you know I am to leave for the country over the summer. The heat in the city is becoming quite insufferable and I have to make some changes to the furnishings at Juniper Hall before my wedding.”

       
Frederick waved his hand, urging her to come to a point; his patience was thin and he was eager for a resolution to the matter. Fond of his daughter as he was, he had very urgent matters to deal with at the office, particularly now in reference to Mr. Bateman senior.

“
I think perhaps the change of scene and a woman’s influence may be good for young Elizabeth. I think perhaps she would learn a great deal in my charge and I have a particular job in mind for her.” Here Georgina paused, rearranging her napkin in her lap. “There is another young girl who shall be accompanying me who is in need of a good role model. I believe they would make perfect companions for one another.”

       
Georgina watched her brother as this information sank in and she leaned back, allowing him room to digest the information. She knew him well enough to offer up only the basics of information and allow him room to breathe. He was a slow but deliberate man and liked order. Despite his obvious love for his youngest daughter, her continued disruption in his house was not acceptable to him and this would offer him the perfect solution. Out of sight, she would not entirely be out of mind, but he could trust that Georgina was taking care of the situation. Georgina refreshed both her own and her brother’s cups, stirring her own with several lumps of sugar. Although she already knew that Frederick would accept her suggestion, she had to play this tired old charade of his being in charge and she sat impatiently, awaiting his approval. It took a little longer than she had thought and a good ten minutes had passed before Frederick eventually gave the idea his blessing. Once agreed, Frederick got fully behind the idea, taking some of the credit for the good sense of the matter. Keen for Elizabeth to continue some form of education, Georgina could tutor her in Pianoforte, being an accomplished player herself. Before Georgina could remind Frederick that this estrangement was in fact a punishment as well as a lesson in how to behave, he had rung for Cribbs to bring his daughter downstairs to his study.

“
Come, Georgina. I want you to put this task of yours to Elizabeth. Who is the young ward you had in mind?”

“
Alice Silver.”

“
Silver? Toby Silver’s daughter? I’ve not heard you speak of a daughter before. Tell me about her.”

       
Georgina was not keen to share her thoughts just yet on Alice Silver. Part of her early exodus from the city was to spend some time getting to know the curious girl. They had met on only a few occasions and, since her first introduction, had barely spoken more than two words to one another. There was something about the girl that caused Georgina not to want to seek out her company. When she visited Toby Silver at his home and Alice was in the parlour, she felt uncomfortable in her company. The girl seemed not quite to fit her own body and this made her awkward and ungainly. She seemed too large for a room when she was in it. That she was tall could be accepted but her hips were narrow, her shoulders broad, and she had too thick a waist. Her hands were large and the girl didn’t seem to know where to place them. These habits did not grate on Georgina the way they should. And when she had first spoken! The girl had a voice a tenor would be proud of. It was not so much deep or unrefined, it was just….coarse. Had the girl been her own, she would have been irritated by her clumsiness and reprimanded her. As it was, something about Alice made Georgina’s skin prickle and she wanted to find out why. She usually spent some of the summer at her country home and she had determined to get Alice out of her father’s care to get to the bottom of her. When she and Toby were courting early on, she had found it easier not to ask about the girl as it was clear that father and daughter were not close. Now that she was to be Mrs. Toby Silver, it was Georgina’s duty to sort this matter out. The sooner she knew what made the girl tick, the sooner she could get rid of her.

“
Alice is most awkward, socially. I had hoped that Elizabeth would be able to help me with the girl’s finishing. I know how accomplished Bessie is and was rather hoping some of her grace would rub off on Alice, and perhaps some of Alice’s shy nature on Bessie?”

       
Frederick considered this for a moment, rising from his chair, his folded napkin in his hand.

“
It sounds the very thing, Georgina. An in-built chaperone and a gooseberry at that! Why ever did we not think of this before?” He cast his napkin down upon the table and strode out of the door, Georgina swept away from the table behind him with a wry smile upon her pale, dry lips.