The Reluctant Heiress

by Dilly Court

  ‘I’m sure she exaggerates,’ Kate said mildly. ‘I’ve only just set up a soup kitchen in Whitechapel. It’s quite difficult to reach the people who need help the most.’

  ‘I’m sure I can find many families who will jump at the chance of a free meal. There is so much poverty in that area, although, of course my parishioners are of a much better class.’

  Kate was about to ask him what he meant by that remark when there was a knock on the door and Winnie, the latest addition to the staff in Finsbury Square, hovered on the threshold.

  ‘There’s a gent here who says he’s been invited to dinner, ma’am.’

  Kate held her breath. She had completely forgotten Spears. He had not given her an answer to the invitation to dine with them and she had been too busy to repeat the request. He pushed past Nell and barged into the room. He was wearing a slightly green-tinged frockcoat and tight black trousers that made his skinny legs look like sticks. His white shirtfront was creased and his cravat had come untied. Kate stared at him in horror.

  ‘I was invited,’ he said, glaring at Arabella and then Sir Bartholomew. ‘It ain’t polite to keep a guest hanging round outside.’

  Chapter Six

  ‘Who the devil are you?’ Sir Bartholomew eyed Spears suspiciously.

  ‘She invited me to dinner,’ Spears said sulkily, jerking his head in Kate’s direction.

  ‘Good heavens! Surely this can’t be the owner of the premises, Kate?’ Arabella stared at him with a puzzled frown.

  Spears turned on her with a ferocious scowl. ‘You toffs think you’re better than the rest of us. Anyway, I never said I owned the place – I’m just the caretaker for—’

  Kate stepped in between them. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Spears. There appears to have been some misunderstanding.’

  ‘D’you mean I come all the way from Whitechapel only to be thrown out on the street, because your ma and pa are too stuck up to mix with the likes of Augustus Spears?’

  ‘All men are equal in the sight of God, sir.’ Harold Haroldson steepled his hands, peering at Spears over the tip of his fingers.

  ‘Who asked you for your opinion?’ Spears demanded angrily. ‘I come here in good faith and it’s obvious I ain’t wanted.’ He spun round to face Kate. ‘I blame you for this – just wait till I tell Harry—’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this outburst,’ Sir Bartholomew said firmly. ‘If my daughter invited you to dine, then you are a welcome guest, sir. But if you can’t behave like a civilised human being I will have to ask you to leave.’

  ‘I apologise if I have done anything to make you feel uncomfortable, Mr Spears,’ Kate said hastily. ‘If you would rather not stay I’m sure we will all understand.’

  Spears shrugged and drew himself up to his full height. ‘Apology accepted. I will stay because you owe me a dinner after that long walk from Cable Street.’

  ‘Do take a seat, Mr Spears.’ Kate beckoned to Henry, who had been standing stiffly to attention, his face a mask of self-control. ‘I’m sure that our guest would like a glass of sherry wine.’

  ‘Brandy,’ Spears said firmly. ‘I don’t drink that fancy stuff – it’s only fit for old ladies.’

  Arabella had raised her glass to her lips, but she replaced it on the drum table at her side. ‘When you’ve given Mr Spears a drink, go to the kitchen and see if dinner is ready, Henry. We’ll eat earlier than usual.’

  Harold went to sit beside Spears on the sofa. ‘You seem troubled, my friend. Is there anything you would like to share with me?’

  Spears edged away from him. ‘I come for good grub, not a sermon.’ He grabbed the glass of brandy from Henry and knocked it back in one gulp. ‘Call that a tot? Give me a proper measure, mate.’

  Henry took the crystal goblet and poured a generous measure from one of the decanters on a side table. He handed it back to Spears, but Kate could tell from Henry’s tight-lipped expression that he was exercising all his training in self-control.

  ‘Go now, Henry,’ Kate said in a low voice. ‘Ask Cook to hurry dinner along, if at all possible.’

  Henry left the room at a dignified pace, as if determined to emphasise his position in the household being above that of the ill-mannered intruder. Kate avoided meeting her mother’s angry gaze; she knew that she was in for a cross-examination when their guests had gone.

  She was not looking forward to dinner, but it went better than she expected. Spears sat in silence with his head bent over his food and he demolished everything that was put in front of him with apparent enjoyment. Harold kept up a monologue, talking about his past experiences as a missionary in Africa before he decided to return to London. Kate was beginning to think she would rather be trampled on by a herd of elephants than to sit through another meal listening to the new curate, when Spears pushed his plate away and rose to his feet.

  ‘Ta, your worship and your ladyship. That was a meal to remember. I’ll think about that when I’m living on bread and cheese or a meat pie. Anyway, I’d best go now. I don’t want to outstay me welcome.’

  Kate jumped to her feet. She knew that she would receive a scolding from her mother for doing so, but she was desperate to get Spears out of the house before he mentioned Harry Trader. There had been a couple of uncomfortable moments, and she was afraid that her luck might run out at any minute.

  ‘I’ll see you out, Mr Spears. Thank you so much for coming.’ Ignoring the warning look from her mother and the startled expression on her father’s face, Kate hurried after Spears. Henry jumped to attention to open the front door and Kate followed Spears down the steps to the pavement.

  ‘Why did you invite me here?’ Spears demanded angrily. ‘Did you do it to make me look a fool?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. If you must know I didn’t dare tell my parents that Harry Trader is my landlord. Papa must have come across the name during the course of his work, even if we have been out of the country for three years. I would have been forbidden to have anything to do with him, so I said the first thing that came into my head. I told them that you owned the premises.’

  A slow grin almost split Spears’ face in two. ‘And I thought you was so prim and proper. You’re just as big a liar as I am.’

  Kate decided that this was meant as a compliment, and she managed a weak smile. ‘If you say so. Anyway, thank you for not mentioning Harry’s name. I know the soup kitchen is a nuisance for you, but it is intended to help people.’

  ‘If you say so, but I never tasted nothing like what we just had. If you ever need someone to make up the numbers at one of your dinners, just let Augustus Spears know. Ta-ta for now, Miss Kate.’ Spears shambled off, heading in the general direction of Whitechapel.

  Kate returned to the dining room, expecting to be greeted by grim silence and accusing looks from her parents, but she found her father and Harold puffing away on cigars in between sips of brandy.

  ‘Your mother retired early to bed,’ Sir Bartholomew said cheerfully. ‘She has a headache. We’ll be here for a while so don’t wait up, Kate.’

  Harold rose to his feet, his previously pale cheeks having taken on a ruddy glow, which was probably due to the copious amounts of sherry, wine and brandy that he had consumed during dinner.

  ‘It’s been a delightful evening. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Martin. I will certainly draw the attention of my congregation to the soup kitchen in Cable Street.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ Kate backed towards the doorway. ‘Good night, Papa.’ She made her escape, hardly able to believe her luck. Her father seemed to have found a new friend, and she herself had been spared the advances of a singularly unattractive clergyman. She made her way upstairs to her bedroom. Perhaps Spears had been right – she had more in common with the criminal element than she had with the clergy. It was a disturbing and yet amusing thought.

  Gradually, day by day, the word went round about the soup kitchen in Cable Street, and more and more hungry people arrived at noon for a nourishing meal. Kate worked tirelessl
y, spending all her pin money on ingredients, but she knew that she must find a way of raising funds. She alone could not support the growing numbers of men, women and children who were living on the edge of starvation. She had seen stick-thin children waiting silently in long queues, together with the elderly, and cripples who were barely able to stand. There were charities aimed at helping those who were sick or destitute, but there were a significant number who either did not fall into the right category or who harboured inbred suspicion of anyone attempting to save their souls. The fear of the workhouse seemed to be the main reason for these people clinging desperately to their independence and Kate was determined to do her best to keep them from that fate.

  She had plenty of help from Ivy and Jenny when it came to cooking and serving the food, and Annie came every day to entertain the people waiting for their free meal. Spears, who had been a little more co-operative after the meal in Finsbury Square, grudgingly acceded to Kate’s request for a door key. She often rose early and walked to Whitechapel to make sure that the fire in the range had not gone out overnight, and she purchased fresh vegetables from costermongers’ barrows on the way. But no matter how frugal she was with her money, there was never enough to go round and she often had to ask Cook for scraps or bones to add goodness to the soup. Kate persuaded Cook to teach her how to make bread, and although her first attempts were a disaster, she improved quickly. Every day from then on the delicious aroma of baking bread wafted from the kitchen into the dining area.

  Kate had risen particularly early one fine June morning. Sunlight streamed through her bedroom window and she could hear birdsong from the Square garden. It was a lovely day, but all was not well. Kate was down to her last few pennies and her allowance was not due until the beginning of July. She rose from her bed, washed and dressed as quickly as possible and let herself out of the house without disturbing anyone. With her wicker basket looped over her arm she set off for Cable Street, stopping along the way to purchase carrots and onions. There was still half a sack of potatoes in the kitchen, but there would be no meat in the soup today.

  She let herself into the premises and was about to enter the kitchen when the door that led to the stairs burst open. Harry Trader was in need of a shave and his shirt hung loosely over his trousers as if he had slept in his clothes. He ran his hand through his already tousled hair.

  ‘What are you doing here at the crack of dawn, Miss Martin?’

  ‘It’s hardly that, sir. Anyway, I might ask the same of you.’ Kate looked him up and down. ‘Have you been here all night?’

  ‘That’s none of your business, but as it happens I was working late and I must have fallen asleep.’

  ‘I’m going to put the kettle on. You look as though you could do with a cup of strong tea. I think I have enough.’ Kate carried her basket into the kitchen and placed it on the table before inspecting the fire in the range. The embers were still glowing and with a little gentle persuasion she managed to get the fire going. She filled a kettle at the sink and placed it on the hob.

  Harry stood in the doorway, fastening the buttons on his shirt. ‘Do you always arrive so early?’

  ‘No, but today I need to make the bread, and then I can make a start on peeling the vegetables.’

  He eyed her curiously. ‘Where are your helpers?’

  ‘They’ll be here soon.’ Kate went to the larder and fetched flour, sugar, salt and yeast.

  ‘There’s a bakery on the corner. Why don’t you buy loaves? Surely it would save time?’

  ‘Yes, but this way is cheaper.’ Kate moved swiftly to the range to make the tea. ‘There’s a jug of milk on the marble slab. Would you fetch it, please?’

  Harry raised an eyebrow but he did as she asked. ‘Where are the fishes?’

  She stared at him blankly. ‘What fishes?’

  ‘Well, it seems as if you need a miracle if this amount of food is going to feed the five thousand.’

  ‘It isn’t funny,’ Kate said stiffly. ‘I’m doing my best.’ She took the pot to the table and selected two of the least cracked cups from a shelf above the sink.

  ‘I can see that.’ Harry pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘Where do you get the money to fund all this?’

  ‘I use my allowance.’ Kate had a feeling that Harry Trader would spot an untruth, and there did not seem to be any point in lying. She filled a cup and passed it to him. ‘That’s all the sugar we have, so please don’t take too much.’

  ‘Are you telling me that your pin money is the only funding you have for all this?’ Harry waved away her offer of sugar.

  ‘If you’re afraid I won’t pay next month’s rent, it will be paid on the dot.’

  ‘But it will be your money? I thought you were running a charity.’

  Kate sipped her tea. ‘Does it matter, Mr Trader? You’ll get the rent, so don’t worry.’ She put down her cup and went to open the bag of flour, but her bottom lip quivered.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Kate sank down on the nearest chair. ‘Weevils. I can’t use this flour.’ Tears welled in her eyes despite her efforts to suppress them.

  Trader took a handful of coins from his pocket. ‘My winnings from cards last evening,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘I dare say you frown on gambling, but this will buy bread and some meat to add to those vegetable you purchased this morning.’

  ‘Why would you do that? You don’t really approve of what I’m doing, I can tell.’

  ‘Now that’s where you’re wrong. I think it’s a very good thing, and it’s kept the police away for the last few weeks, so I applaud your efforts. It suits me to be generous.’

  Kate was torn between the desperate need to take the money and the desire to throw it back in his face. She had no particular feelings about gambling – it was none of her business what other people did – but taking the funds from him would make her beholden to a known criminal. On the other hand, if she allowed her pride to overrule her heart it would leave desperate people to go hungry. She reached across the table and scooped the money into her hand.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Trader. I’ll send Jenny out to buy bread and a couple of large beef bones when she gets here.’

  He held up his hand. ‘There’s one condition.’

  ‘Oh dear. What is it?’

  ‘That you stop calling me Mr Trader, and you allow me to call you Kate.’

  She smiled in spite of her attempt to maintain a serious expression. ‘I think I can manage that, Harry.’

  He drained his cup and stood up. ‘Thank you for the tea. Now I need to go and leave you to get on with your good work.’ He hesitated in the doorway. ‘And I do mean it when I say it’s good work. I wish I were as well-intentioned and caring as you are, Kate.’

  ‘I don’t know about that.’ Kate felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she turned her head away.

  ‘Annie told me how kind you’ve been to her. Her brother, Joe, asked me to keep an eye on her and you’ve made my task a lot easier.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure to have her here, and people love to listen to her music.’

  ‘Don’t worry about next month’s rent,’ Harry said slowly. ‘It’s the least I can do, but you need to register as a charity and then you can raise funds legally. Your lawyer friend should be able to help you with that.’

  Kate gave him a searching look. ‘How do you know about Perry?’

  ‘There’s very little that goes on in this area without coming to my attention. Thank you again for the tea.’ He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Kate staring after him in surprise.

  Harry Trader was an enigma. Although she sedulously avoided making enquiries into his criminal past, she knew that his gang had a reputation for running illicit gambling clubs and for violence. Her father would be horrified if he knew that she was involved, even if indirectly, with such a person. Although, if she were honest, Harry’s reputation made him a dangerous but romantic figure, and his generosity was more than welcome.

  Kate was a
bout to count the coins when she heard footsteps and Jenny hurried into the kitchen. She came to a halt, staring at Harry’s empty cup and the money on the table in front of Kate.

  ‘What’s happened? Did I just see Harry Trader walking down the street?’

  ‘Yes, you did. And thanks to Mr Trader we are back in business. The flour is alive with weevils so I can’t make any bread, but he’s given us enough money to purchase loaves from the bakery and bones for today’s soup. I can also pay Ivy.’

  ‘But if we take money from him, doesn’t that leave us obligated to a villain?’

  Kate rose to her feet. ‘Yes, I suppose it does, but I don’t care, Jenny. If I threw this back in his face we would have to close up at the end of the week. As it is I will have to find another way to fund our efforts. My allowance isn’t due until the beginning of next month.’

  ‘You’ve been using your own money?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. We can carry on today and tomorrow. In the meantime I’ll have to think of a way to raise funds without asking Harry for more.’

  Jenny tossed her head. ‘Be careful, miss. That’s all I can say.’ She held out her hand. ‘If you give me some money I’ll go out again and get what’s necessary.’

  The last drop of soup had been served and there was not a crumb of bread left after the midday session. Jenny was in the kitchen washing up while Ivy helped Kate to tidy the dining area, and the twins and Nellie kept baby John amused, while Charlie gnawed on one of the bones that had flavoured the soup. There was no meat left on it, but that did not seem to bother him.

  A sudden commotion outside made Kate run to the window.

  ‘It’s a fight,’ she said nervously. ‘Better take the little ones into the kitchen, Ivy.’

  Ivy glanced over Kate’s shoulder. ‘I know one of those men. He used to work with my Ted on the docks, but he got the sack and joined Trader’s gang.’ She scooped the baby up in her arms. ‘Come with me, girls. And you, too, Charlie.’ She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him protesting into the kitchen.