Trifling Favors (Redcakes Book 7) (12 page)

B
etsy felt she’d had a productive day on Saturday. While her mind had wandered to predictably sad places—namely, her departure from Greggory’s warm bed on Thursday, and the shameful journey upstairs less than fully dressed to her own cold bed—her feet had kept on walking to respectable boardinghouses not far from Redcake’s. She’d found a place, too. The owner had told her she could have the rooms if she returned Tuesday night to pay for the week because the rooms became available on Wednesday. She’d agreed to do so.

The other satisfactory item was her conduct at work on Friday. She’d behaved impeccably toward Greggory—that was, Mr. Redcake—extremely professionally. Not once had her eyes strayed from his nose when they had discussed work matters, nor had she allowed herself to think of anything but business. The strain had taken its toll and she’d had to go to bed with a sick headache the previous night, but thus were the wages of sin and their invariably uncomfortable aftermath.

Now, more discomfort awaited her, as she had to explain to her father what she was doing. Mrs. Roach let her in the front door of the house, and after a brief exchange, Betsy went upstairs, finding her father in the sitting room where he slept, repairing the rolled edge of a blanket.

“Busy day at Redcake’s?” he inquired. “I went in this morning, but it was a quiet day despite the season. I should say smooth-running, rather than quiet. The new delivery manager is very efficient.”

“I’d had the impression that Simon Hellman was good at his job.”

“He wasn’t bad, but this new lad is better. You will have to meet him.”

She shuddered. The last thing she needed right now was a suitor. “No, thank you. Papa, I need to speak to you about something important.”

“Yes, I imagine you do. Has Mr. Redcake spoken to you?” He poked his needle into the blanket and set it aside.

“No, this is not about work. This is about lodgings.”

“Oh, yes. I told him if we pooled both of our earnings for this week we should be able to afford someplace acceptable, but he insisted we stay for now. Why don’t you give me your pay and I’ll tuck it away?” He held out his hand.

She folded her arms across her chest. “And let you run into a priest with his begging bowl at the ready? I think not. I’ve learned my lesson, Ralph Popham. I honor and respect you as my father, but I need to honor and respect myself as well.”

His eyebrows lifted. “What is all this?”

“I’ve found lodgings for myself. Respectable ones. I’m going to try living alone. I make as good money as a decent working man, and I don’t have a family to support. I can live in some comfort, and save a bit besides. You earn more than me. If you spend your money on yourself, you have no need of mine. With Violet working and Victor a criminal, you’ve no need to support anyone else.”

He set down his needle. “You are my unmarried daughter, for now at least, and your place is with me.”

“For now? I wasn’t aware that my status had any hope of changing. I’m not a domestic female.”

“Mr. Redcake does not seem to feel that way. He’s asked to court you.”

“What?” She took an involuntary step backward.

“Mr. Greggory Redcake,” her father said slowly, as if she might not understand.

“Court me? Mr. Redcake?” She sat down abruptly, her head swimming. Why would he say such a thing? He couldn’t be serious.

“He needs a second wife to care for his family,” her father said. “That’s different from a first wife. He’s inherited her house, her money, and she left babies behind. I did express some caution.”

“Caution?” she said.

“Yes. I want him to make sure Lord Judah and his wife are comfortable with you. You’ll need to be seen as their equal socially, and if they aren’t willing to welcome you into their home, it would be a problem.”

“Oh?”

“Given that I am welcome in Sir Bartley’s home, I’m sure it will all be fine,” he said with an air of pride.

“You haven’t been invited to dinner with Sir Bartley for years,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “Well, that might be true. But I haven’t kept up my wardrobe as I should.”

“To say the least,” Betsy said. “Given our financial situation.”

“Which, as you say, will change. Without the Carters to support.”

He said nothing about the Church, she noted, giving her further reason not to pass over any more of her money to him. No, she was doing the right thing.

“Meanwhile, you will not be moving to lodgings,” he said. “You should want to marry a Redcake. Stay in this house and let him look at you. You’re a pretty girl. Get that proposal from him. It will be the making of you.”

It would be the making of a baby if she stayed under the same roof. “He can court me from a distance. It’s more respectable.”

“A Redcake isn’t going to court a girl who lives alone in a boardinghouse, Betsy. I forbid it. Be reasonable.”

“You lost all claim to reasonability a long time ago, Papa. I love you, but I don’t have much faith in you right now. I’m going to move out.”

Her father’s upper lip twitched. “What about Mr. Redcake?”

“You’re the one who told him to talk to Lord Judah before proceeding. If you wanted to protect my feelings, you would have waited until he had done so before letting me know what he’d said to you. Now, I might still be disappointed.”

He glanced down. “I do see what you mean, but I am sure it won’t be a problem.”

“Lady Judah is not fond of me,” Betsy said. “She is very aware of her social status and I cannot imagine she would want to have me to dinner. Therefore, this entire conversation has been a shocking waste of time.” She blinked hard. “Please excuse me, I have something in my eye.”

She kept her composure as she walked into the bedroom, but as soon as she had the door closed, she leaned against it and let the tears flow.
Oh, Greggory, you sweet, foolish man
. Why had he done such a thing?

 

Greggory paced the parlor just before dinner, wondering what had happened to both Pophams. Last night Betsy had been missing, and tonight, both of them? He rubbed his hands together, wondering what he had done wrong. Just then, he heard footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later, Betsy appeared in the door, wearing an unadorned navy dress he’d seen a dozen times recently, and behind her, her father, pressing his thinning hair over his balding pate.

When they were married, he’d buy Betsy seven new dinner dresses, one for each day of the week. And he’d find Ralph a new wife, so he and Betsy could eat dinner alone. It seemed the least he could do for her. He didn’t want Ralph around attempting to skim money off his household budget for a religion not his own.

“Shall we go in?” Greggory asked.

“Of course,” Ralph said jovially. “I haven’t eaten so well in years. Betsy and I make do, but neither of us had much time for food.”

“A family in your position is at least meant to have a maid of all work. Of course you can’t manage on your own.” There, he had offered his own mild censure.

“We eat a lot of fish and chips,” Betsy said with a defiant air.

“I love fish and chips,” Greggory said. “Not nearly enough fried fish in my diet.”

Betsy smiled and shook her head. “How was Redcake’s today? I missed the dear old place.”

“Dreadful tea service. Too many workmen and their wives enjoying their half day in the tearoom. The coarseness of their speech is off-putting to our usual clientele. And the new customers won’t keep coming. Can’t afford it.”

“I wish the police would do something.”

“If they can’t even find Hellman or Carter, what hope have we got?”

Ralph dropped his spoon into his bowl of soup. He apologized as the ringing sound drowned out Greggory’s words. He waved Ralph’s apology away. “It’s just days and days of saying the same thing. How could those two have gone to ground?”

“They aren’t together,” Betsy said. “That might be the problem. The police efforts are cut in half.”

Greggory nodded. “An excellent point. Should we suggest they focus on just one?”

“Victor seems the most dangerous to Redcake’s,” Betsy said slowly.

“But Simon is more likely to have killed Manfred Cross,” Ralph said.

“Why?” Greggory asked as Mrs. Roach removed the soup bowls.

“Manfred had been coming by Redcake’s for years because he was Lord Judah’s brother-in-law. He knew Simon. In Victor’s case, it would have been more like a crime of opportunity, simply to punish you for hiring Violet. It isn’t as likely.” Ralph’s eyes gleamed.

“Is it really the same detectives who focus on both murder and vandalism? I would think different policemen would be in charge,” Betsy said.

“Oh, there’s probably a big file that just says ‘Redcake’s’ at this point,” Greggory said. He noticed that Betsy looked a bit pale. “But that’s enough of this conversation. It’s not a proper dinner topic. Betsy, have you had any time to look at those magazines?”

She considered him. “Could I invite Prissy to look through them with me? She has a better eye than I do.”

“Why not? Invite her to dinner tomorrow.” He ought to spend some time making the acquaintance of his future sister-in-law.

“That’s very kind of you, but she’s only a seamstress’s assistant. Tea would be more than fine.”

“As you wish. I’m sure you girls have a lot to discuss.”

“We had talked about the possibility of new clothes for me,” Betsy said.

“What an excellent notion,” Greggory said. “You should have some new clothes. A pretty girl demands a wardrobe to match.”

“Mr. Redcake,” Ralph admonished. “Betsy’s money is better saved than spent.”

Greggory took a long sip of wine before responding. “I believe one has the right to enjoy one’s youth. After all, we never know what the next day will bring.”

“I understand the loss of your dear wife was a punishing blow, Mr. Redcake, but please allow me to express my wishes to my daughter.”

“You can express them all you like, I assure you,” Greggory said. “But allow me, at my own table, to have a dissenting opinion.” Did the man think he could influence a possible future son-in-law?

Betsy had gone pale again. Greggory hoped Ralph didn’t force the issue to the point of making his daughter choose between the two of them.

“Of course,” Ralph said easily. “It is all theoretical anyhow, as I manage Betsy’s money, and I know she hasn’t the funds for new clothing at the moment.”

Once again, it appeared that his darling wouldn’t be making it through the evening meal. She set her fork and knife down, leaving her fish cakes half-eaten. “Please excuse me.”

The men stood as she rushed out. Greggory spent the rest of the meal considering the complicated relationship between father and daughter. He thought she might hide in her bedroom, but instead, about an hour later, he went out on the small terrace and found her sitting on the bench there.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again tonight.” He glanced up at the sky to admire the canopy of stars missing over London on anything but the warmest nights.

“We have to speak, Greggory. Why on earth are you filling my father’s head with fantasies of us courting? He’s refused to consider me moving into lodgings, even though I found a nice place, just in case you really want to marry me.”

“What does lodgings have to do with it?”

“He doesn’t think you’d marry a girl from a boardinghouse. But you aren’t going to marry me. What we did . . . well, that wasn’t courting.”

“It was to me.”

“Don’t be cruel,” she said.

“I’m not, Betsy.” He sat down next to her and swiveled his body to face her. “I don’t make a habit of such things. I haven’t been with anyone since my wife.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then you might be confusing emotion with lust.”

He had to know. “Why did you allow such a thing to happen? The risk is all on your side. I thought it meant you loved me.”

She huffed. “I scarcely know you outside of Redcake’s, Greggory. Please be reasonable. Don’t make this all about my feelings. You have all the power here.”

“I do not.” He put his fingers on her cheek. “I’d like to court you.”

“What does that mean?” she asked in clipped tones. “Are you going to take me for long walks while your children go unattended? Sunday afternoon carriage rides? Surely you aren’t going to want to stop doing what we did.”

“Is that what you fear? That I’ll tell your father we’re courting while I really have nothing more in mind than keeping you as a mistress?”

“A girl in my position, one who owes her livelihood to you, cannot be too careful. I must be allowed to move out. I cannot be under your roof. I find you too attractive, I must admit.”

His heart lost a little of the buoyant feeling he’d experienced since Thursday. “That is all you will offer me? That you find me attractive?”

“Even that is too much, when I work for you.” She put her head in her hands.

How difficult this must be for her. He was chastened. “I am sorry for all the pressure I’ve put on you. I do not want you to go and I do not want you to spend all your money on lodgings. If I prove we can live chastely under the same roof, will you stay?”

Her voice was muffled. “It’s not good for my digestion. Neither of us see eye to eye with my father.”

“He wants to control you, as he always has. You’ve seen what is really going on now with him and your eyes are open. Still, you are safer here, what with Hellman and Carter on the loose.” He caressed her cheek again. “Please, don’t go.”

“I wasn’t leaving until Wednesday,” she said. “That’s half a week for the police to do their jobs.”

“You’d best give them longer. Skip this lodging house and wait for the next one. Promise me a couple of weeks, at least?”

She rubbed her cheek against his hand. “I’ll think about it.”