by Meg Buchanan
Sophie took another few steps back. The hem of his coat touched the bed. “I suppose not. Why are you in a mood?”
“I’m not in a mood. I’m tired, and I’ve just fought two men, and Charlotte will be looking for us.” He turned back to the fireplace. The fire flickered sadly in the grate.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. What to do about Sophie tonight? Under normal circumstances, they would almost certainly never have met. And if they had, they would have been formally introduced. “Miss Sophie Westmore, meet my friend Courtney Samuels.” They would have shaken hands, and barely noticed each other. Now they were in the real world he was obliged to go back to treating her the way he should treat any seventeen-year-old of his class.
Sophie stared back. “Charlotte doesn’t frighten me. I think she lied to me, so I would obey her.”
“She frightens me.” He went over to her and took her hands in his. “Have you forgotten what happened to Lucy? If Charlotte finds you, you will finish up like her.” The wool of his coat brushed against his wrists. Fine beads of moisture clung to the surface. “So, Charlotte should frighten you.” He stood there watching her.
She watched back, and then slowly wilted. Tears came into her eyes; her head went down, her shoulders drooped. “You’re right, I’m so afraid,” she breathed.
He moved and put his arms around her, comforting her. She was warm and soft under his coat, her head tucked under his chin as her tears soaked into the front of his shirt.
It was not a good thing to be close to her like this. But she was crying in his arms, he could hardly push her away. When she was calm, he found a handkerchief in the coat pocket. She wiped her eyes, and there was that freshly washed look, lashes soft with tears again.
“Better?” he asked. He should at least spend the night sleeping on the chair by the fireplace. Sophie nodded and wiped her nose. He held her again and murmured to her. He would make sure she was safe. He whispered it to her over and over and surrounded her with his body. She lifted her face, and he kissed her gently, a comforting, tender kiss.
He should have taken the room next door with Eugene. Sophie pressed herself against him and deepened the kiss.
He found himself defeated. “Come to bed, we’ll get some sleep, and then tomorrow we’ll find your mother. She can take you to Sydney, where you’ll be safe.”
Early the next morning, a knock came from the other side of the door.
“Who’s that?” Sophie sounded frightened.
“It will just be Eugene. No one will look for us here.” Courtney got out of bed. “Who is it?” he asked, checking his guess was right.
“Eugene,” said voice came from the other side of the door. “It’s after five. You need to get going.”
“Just a moment.” He pulled on some clothes and opened the door.
Eugene came into the room, fully dressed, and looking as dissolute as only a man still in evening dress in the early morning can. “The first steamer to Auckland leaves in half an hour.
Behind them, Sophie sat up in the bed, the sheet wrapped around her, shoulders bare, hair tussled, looking completely ravaged. He should have shared Eugene’s room, not stayed in this one with her.
“Good morning, Sophie,” said Eugene. “Has Courtney been protecting you?” Sophie smiled shyly. Eugene smirked. “If you hurry, you’ll make it to the first ferry.”
Courtney stretched, hands linked behind his head, elbows out. “When we get to Auckland Sophie and I should be able to walk to her parent’s house or take a tram.”
“How will you get home?” Sophie asked him from the bed.
“I’ll catch the overnight steamer for Paeroa. It leaves late in the afternoon.” He’d caught that steamer plenty of times after visiting Millicent and then slept his way home. “There’s no time to eat before we leave.”
Sophie nodded. “I’m sure our housekeeper will make us something when we get to my house.”
Eugene went to the door. “When will you be back in Paeroa, Courtney? People may ask.”
“Tomorrow, mid-morning, maybe a little later, can you let William know?”
Eugene nodded. “Come downstairs when you’re ready.”
Sophie watched from the bed as Courtney dressed. She needed to move. They needed to be on their way to Auckland before Charlotte realised that was where they were headed.
“Get dressed. Hurry,” he said, then sat on the bed and pulled on his shoes. He probably looked as rough as Eugene did.
Sophie nodded and pushed the sheet back, then sat naked on the side of the bed. “I only have that to wear.” She nodded at the pile of pale silk draped over the back of a chair.
“It’ll have to do until we get to your house,” he said. The dress and slip and satin slippers Charlotte had put Sophie in last night were no more suitable for an early morning walk in town than what he was wearing. The corset was still on the floor at the club. “You can wear my coat again.” He handed her the pile of silk and Sophie sighed reluctantly and started dressing.
Downstairs they found Eugene sitting in the carriage waiting for them. They got in and Eugene drove them to the wharf. He took the carriage past the ticket office on the Thames wharf twice before he stopped. They saw no one who shouldn’t be there.
Courtney helped Sophie down. Despite being wrapped in his coat again, she shivered in the early morning air.
“Take care,” said Eugene. “Charlotte’s not going to be pleased.”
“We will.” Courtney shut the carriage door and watched Eugene leave. It was going to take the steamer four hours to get to Auckland. It would be around ten o’clock when he got Sophie home. Then he had to convince her mother of the danger they were in and get them out of the house.
Still, no one seemed to be looking for them here yet, and the next steamer headed for Auckland in two hours, so whatever happened, they had a good two-hour head start.
Chapter 15
AS SOON AS THE FERRY docked at Queen’s Wharf, Courtney and Sophie caught a cab and headed for her home in Epsom. When they arrived at the front door, Sophie’s mother wasn’t up. A maid had to go and fetch her.
Mrs Westmore dismissed the maid and led them to the formal lounge as soon as she realised who it was. Her mother was as beautiful as Sophie, but delicate and drawn.
He and Sophie sat on the couch like visitors and explained the situation.
Sophie’s mother wasn’t perhaps as shocked by the story as she should have been. “You owe it to me and to your father to pay the debt,” she said to her daughter. Courtney watched Sophie stare at her mother in silent disbelief. This wasn’t the way he expected the woman to react either.
“I can’t, Mother.” Sophie said quietly. “I will not go back.”
Her mother stood and walked over to the ornate fireplace. “You must.” She checked her reflection in the mirror above the fire. “The only way the debt will be paid is if you work for Miss Pryor as her assistant.”
“I’m not her assistant,” Sophie said with quiet dignity, but he could hear the distress in her voice.
Courtney interrupted. “Do you know what you’re sending Sophie back to?”
The mother turned on him. “Mr Samuels, this is not your concern, you have interfered in our business by taking Sophie from the club and bringing her here. When Miss Pryor comes for her, Sophie will go back.”
“It’s not safe for Sophie there.”
“It’s her duty,” the mother insisted.
“To be a whore? Is this what you raised her to do?”
“Sophie always understood she was expected to pay back the time and money we lavished on her. If not by an advantageous marriage, then some other way.”
Sophie was close to tears. He couldn’t stand her mother’s attitude. Her mother was a bitch. “For God’s sake. She’s not a commodity.” He stood, all the time expecting a knock on the door. Expecting Charlotte’s men to come for Sophie. The steamer had made good time but the next one might have made the crossing even faster. “So, y
our daughter is to fuck anyone who can afford to pay so you can continue to live like this?” His gesture took in the mother’s clothes, the furniture, the whole room. Everything was expensive. The Westmores lived well.
“There is no need to be crude, Mr Samuels, I’m sure you have misread the situation. Miss Pryor wanted Sophie to be her assistant.”
The silence grew cold, and Sophie’s mother fidgeted with the ornaments, her back turned to him.
“Or perhaps that is what you choose to believe,” he said into the silence. “But if it is true, then Miss Pryor has changed her mind.” He held out his hand. “Come on Sophie, there’s nothing here for you.”
She stood beside him, chin up, biting her lip and no tears but she held his arm tightly with both hands as if afraid he might leave without her.
“You will stay right where you are Sophie and wait for Miss Pryor,” said her mother.
Sophie shook her head. “No.”
He gave her a little push towards the stairs. “Pack some clothes quickly Sophie, and change into something sensible.”
“I can’t, all my clothes are at the club.”
“Your mother must have something that will fit you. Come, we’ll go to her room and get a coat for you at least.” The bitch had made a thorough job of getting rid of her daughter.
Sophie’s mother moved away from the fireplace. “You will not.” Her voice was filled with outrage.
He turned on her. “If you can’t be helpful then sit down and shut up.”
He steered Sophie up the staircase. Her mother followed them still ordering Sophie back to the lounge, still wanting her to wait for Charlotte.
Inside the master bedroom, the woman grabbed Sophie’s arm and tried to prevent her from opening the wardrobe door.
Courtney took Mrs Westmore by the shoulders and frogmarched her to a chair and pushed her into it. “I told you to sit down and shut up.”
The woman sputtered into silence. He turned back to Sophie. The wardrobe was filled with clothing of all colours. “Is there a coat there that will fit you?”
Sophie nodded and shrugged into the one she’d found. Brown tweed with a velvet collar.
“Hat?”
This time she pushed at the stack of hat boxes sitting on the floor of the wardrobe, they fell to the floor, their contents tumbling out.
“Don’t touch…” said the mother.
“You stay quiet,” Courtney ordered. Sophie picked out the brown velvet hat that must have been made to match the coat and shoved it on. He found a hatpin pushed into the small embroidered cushion on the dressing table and handed it to her.
“Boots?” This was taking too long, but she couldn’t go back out onto the street in what she was wearing. Besides this way, he got his coat back.
Sophie scrambled around the floor of the wardrobe and came out with brown boots that buttoned up the sides. “It’s lucky I take the same size shoes as my mother. These match the coat and should fit me,”
“Put them on.” Sophie nodded again. She didn’t look at the woman sitting in the chair in outraged silence. She sat on the bed and quickly exchanged the little slippers for the boots, then stood up again. “I’m ready.” She looked like a young woman about to go shopping.
They left the house. He didn’t know what he was going to do with Sophie, but both the mother and the father could fend for themselves as far as he was concerned. He walked with her down the street away from her home. He should have got the cab to wait for them. He couldn’t see another one around. They passed a bakery, and the smell wafted out to greet them. It was almost mid-day, and neither of them had had anything to eat yet.
“Are you hungry?” If they went inside it would get them off the street and out of sight while they decided what to do.
Sophie nodded, so he opened the door of the bakery and followed her in. Other people were sitting having tea and cake. He and Sophie found a table near the back. No one would see them from the street and with Sophie in her mother’s coat and him in his they blended in a little. But what they should do after they’d eaten completely eluded him.
Sophie broke up her scone and ate it crumb by crumb. She hadn’t said anything since they left the house. Then she said in a whisper. “My mother knew.”
“Yes, she knew,” he agreed. He spoke quietly too so his voice was under the hum of the others around them.
Sophie plucked at a speck on the sleeve of the coat. Her hair had come loose and she looked very young and completely devastated. “I can’t believe my mother knew what I was being taken to.”
“No, it’s hard to believe.” Sophie’s mother had in effect sold her and she’d rejected her just now. How could Sophie cope with that? Though, he suspected perhaps she was not as astonished by her mother’s reaction as she might have been. When Sophie first told him how she came to be at the club, he felt then her choice of words was strange. And the comment that her mother let this happen to her had had no surprised edge to it.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
“I can’t go back to the club.”
“No, you don’t have to go back.”
“Where can I go then?” asked Sophie.
“I have no idea, I was hoping you’d have some suggestion. A friend? Another relative?”
“No, there is no one who wouldn’t tell my parents.”
He checked his watch. They could still just about catch the steamer to Paeroa if they hurried.
“We’ll head for Paeroa,” he said. When they got there, he’d get them a room at the Criterion and reassess the situation. He could hardly just turn up at home and dump her on his mother.
Once they were outside the bakery, he saw a group of men walking across the road down the street a little. They looked familiar, so he pulled Sophie back against the bushes.
“What?” asked Sophie.
“Shhh.” He thought he’d seen at least two of the men at the club. Maybe they had just come from Sophie’s parent’s house or were on their way there. He should have kept moving. Sophie’s home would be the obvious place for Charlotte’s men to start searching for them.
He watched the men. Yes, they were Charlotte’s, he was sure. He’d seen them all at the club over the last week.
He pushed Sophie towards an alley. “We’ll keep moving, stay close to me.”
She glanced back and saw the men in the distance too and stopped, horrified.
“Keep going,” he said quietly and dragged Sophie into the safety of shadows.
Sophie curled in against him shaking. “They’ll take me back, they’ll take me back, they’ll take me back,” she whispered again and again into his coat buttons. “Don’t let them take me back.”
All the time at the club she’d coped and afterwards too, but now she had fallen apart just seeing Charlotte’s men. It was unnerving.
He put his arms around her, held her tight and rested his chin on her hair trying to surround her like he did last night. “You’re safe. I’ll look after you.” He tried to work out what to do while Sophie stood there as if she was in another world, one where you could stand still and be invisible.
“Shhh,” he said again, as the men moved in the opposite direction from where they were standing. They couldn’t have seen them. He had no idea where they’d look for them next. Maybe Millicent’s. That would make sense.
What would be best? Find a quiet, out of the way room to hide in? Or keep moving?
Keep moving. They’d still head for the wharf. They’d just keep to the back streets. Sophie was standing quietly watching him now.
“We’ll get away,” he promised. “Come on.” They crept down the alley. They needed to find a cab again. It was too far from Epsom to Queen’s Wharf to try walking.
When he finally saw one, he waved it down told the hansom cab to drop them two streets back from the promenade. The cabbie flicked his whip and the horse and cab trotted off towards the harbour.
The cab left them on a street filled with shipping offices and ware
houses. The spray laden wind sneaked around the corner, damp and cold.
Sophie pulled the coat tighter around her. “Where does the steamer leave from?” she asked.
“The passenger terminal. The same one as we arrived at.” And that was a problem. There may be one of Charlotte’s men guarding it. It depended on how important finding one runaway girl was to Charlotte, and how many men she’d be willing to invest into getting her back. They’d already seen four searching for them. “Come on.” He put his arm around her shoulders. They’d just have to be careful.
They walked along the street parallel to the boardwalk and got near the corner that would take them directly to the ticket office.
“Stay here.” He left Sophie in an entranceway of a building. The big solid door was locked. All the doors along here were shut tight. He couldn’t see anywhere for them to hide if they were seen. He walked up to the corner staying back a little and then watched the street, the wharf, and the booking office.
Three men stood near the ticket office. Three others moved further along the wharf. He watched a little longer. Another lot of Charlotte’s men were staking the wharf out. They must be counting on him trying to get Sophie on a steamer.
So, getting a runaway back was important enough to Charlotte to send at least ten men. Or could it be him they were after? He did knock out two of their comrades, not to mention the three he chased off when they attacked Seth.
He went back to Sophie and delivered the bad news.
“What will we do?” She was putting all her faith in him. The panic he’d heard earlier had gone out of her voice, but Sophie was probably as aware as he was that being trapped in Auckland was much like being trapped on an island. The train line only went south as far as Manakau. The road from there was barely suitable for bullock wagons. They had the choice of Queen’s Wharf or the port at Onehunga and Onehunga wasn’t really an option, right on the other side of Auckland, and anything leaving from there was bound for Wellington or the South Island. Also, it would be as easy to stake out as here.