But From Thine Eyes

by Christina Britton Conroy

  Suddenly, the pub was alive with theatre patrons. Elly smiled at Jamie, but anxiously watched the door. When the actors started coming in, she hurried past Rory and Lester, to Michael. “I got your note. What is it you…?”

  He squeezed her arm and walked up to the bar. “Hello Jamie, can I please have a pint, a lemonade, and two of your specials.” Michael took the drinks.

  Elly followed him to a corner booth and sat facing him. “You’re so kind. Someday I hope I can repay your generosity.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I was an apprentice. People fed me.” He nervously drummed his fingers on the table, then took a long drink. “Well, you’ve survived two nights, freezing and starving at Potter’s. If you stay, you can count on freezing and starving for at least a year. The other apprentices manage to scrounge a living, but…”

  “I will too.”

  “How?” He looked her in the eye. “The boys build sets for slave wages. Meg and Peg… ” He shook his head.

  She leaned forward, whispering, “You told me, they’re tarts. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll find some sort of work. I’m clever, you’ll see. I’ll be fine.”

  A server brought their food and they ate silently. When Michael’s plate was clean, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two envelopes. “Yesterday, I got these from Rob. The first one was so formal, I didn’t know why he’d written it. The late post brought the second letter, and it all became clear.” He handed her the two letters.

  Elly opened the first one.

  My Dear Michael,

  I trust you are well. Things are looking very good for my exhibition. The paintings have arrived safely, and you can imagine how I look forward to seeing them displayed. Unfortunately, I can only stay two nights in London. My mother is visiting with her sister and I need to call on them before the start of term.

  I am so looking forward to Macbeth. See you in a fortnight.

  Your Friend,

  Robert Dennison

  Elly handed the letter back, and opened the second.

  Mike -

  I know I would have heard from you if Elisa wasn’t safe and well. Bless you for helping her.

  I was insane to think that she could just disappear. When she was found missing, her teacher telegraphed her father. The return telegram said she was not at home, but may have run away to her mother’s family in Germany. Her father is arriving here, tomorrow. He has threatened to call in Scotland Yard, or a private investigator. I could go to prison.

  They are watching the post, so I bribed the milkman to mail this letter from

  another village. If you write back, you must not mention her by name. Instead, say that the Christmas box arrived safely or, God forbid was damaged, or misplaced. I am going mad.

  I was an ass not to have anticipated this. If Elisa’s clothes are not discovered with my paintings, she should be safe. If she is in London when I arrive, I may be watched, and she may be in danger. I will leave as soon as I can.

  I feel like a shit, getting you involved. It all seemed simple and sensible at the time. I adore Elisa, but wonder if I have done her a disservice. I wish I had left the matter alone.

  Please tell her what has happened, or let her read this letter. I have never felt so wretched.

  Rob

  Elly read the letter over three times before handing it back.

  Michael tucked both letters into his jacket pocket. “After reading the second one, I hoped you had changed your mind about all this, and decided to go home.”

  “Go home!” Her heart pounded. “I can never go home.”

  “Why? Wait, I almost forgot.” Reaching into another pocket, he pulled out a small square of heavy art paper. “This was inside the second letter.” She took the curious package. All four corners had been folded into the center and sealed together with blue sealing wax. On the front of the art paper, a lovely pink and blue rose was sketched around the name, ELLY. She broke the seal. Robert’s flowers and vines delicately bordered his beautifully penned words.

  My Dearest Darling Elly,

  My single wish in life is that I could turn back the clock and play again that last evening. Things should have been very different. You can never know how much I care for you, and how desperately I want you near me. All those months of watching you, wanting you, not being able to touch you, and then, when we were finally together, misunderstanding you so completely. I shall never forgive myself. Would to God we could be together now, so I could try to make amends. You are the dearest thing in my life.

  By now, you will have read my letter to Michael. Rest assured that I will do you no further damage. I must be in London for the gallery opening and Michael’s play. In the event that I am being watched, I will return home immediately after and remove any possible danger to you.

  Please try to forgive me. I love you.

  Robert

  Tears welled in her eyes. She folded the art paper and put it into her purse.

  Michael stared at his empty plate. “This is out of my league. I don’t know what to do. When I ran away to become an actor, no one cared enough to fetch me home.”

  “Do we have to do anything? No one knows I’m here. If I collect my boxes before he arrives, I’ll be safe. Robert said so.” She smiled hopefully. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. I never thought this...”

  His eyes bulged. “It’s very plain that no one thought at all, especially me. You’re under-age and I may be in a lot of trouble.”

  “But, that’s not possible. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Michael drummed his fingers on the table. “The only people who know your real name are Bates, O’Connell, and Eddy.”

  “You can’t tell them I’ve run away.” Her breathing was fast and irregular.

  “I have to tell them. They’re harbouring an underage fugitive.” He stood up and looked around the crowded pub. Eric Bates was eating with his family. Jeremy O’Connell and Katherine Stewart were finishing their meal. Eddy was drinking with some of the crew. “The snug is almost never used.” He gestured to a small private dining room. “Go and wait in there.” He started toward Eric Bates.

  *

  Jeremy O’Connell had just finished eating when Michael Burns begged five minutes of his time, in the snug. Eddy Edwards joined them, smiling cordially. Eric Bates raced after them, cursing, “Bloody hell, Burns! My whole family is here. What the devil’s so important you had to interrupt my dinner?” He raced ahead into the snug, and glowered at Elly Fielding standing stiffly, staring at the floor. “What’s she doing here?”

  Michael looked at Elly and shut the door. “I’m sorry to disturb your afternoon, gentlemen, but you’re the only people in London who know Miss Fielding’s real name. Her family has decided they want her back and may go to extreme measures to find her.”

  “Find her?” Eric glared at Elly. “You’re a bloody runaway?” She nodded. “How old are you?”

  She spoke calmly. “Eighteen sir. In three days.”

  “Seventeen!” He bellowed and she shuddered. “The girl is bloody seventeen. Pack her up, and send her home.” He stormed toward the door, but Elly raced in front of him, blocking his way.

  She stared him straight in the eye. “Please, sir. I cannot go home.” Her hands were tight fists, squeezing the fabric on her skirt. Labored breaths pulsed her thin ribcage, but her pale face showed no emotion. Tears welled in her huge green eyes but miraculously stayed where they were. The effect was startling.

  Eric took a moment, then shouted at Eddy, “Get her on the next train out of here.” Jeremy grabbed his arm. “Eric, let me find out what this is all about. Go back to your family.”

  He scowled. “A scandal could close us down.”

  Jeremy pulled him into a corner, whispering, “Eric, look at the girl. She is fabulously beautiful. She could make us a fortune.”

  “She could also cost us a fortune.”

  “I am aware of that and I will not do anything stupid.”

  Eric
sighed. “See that you don’t. I want a proper solution, or the girl’s gone… Tonight!” He turned to leave as Rory Cook burst through the door, nearly knocking him down.

  “Sorry, Gov’.”

  Rory cowered as Eric yelled, “Get out of here, Cook. This is no business of yours.”

  Rory saw Elly standing alone facing four angry men. Wanting to protect her, but having no idea what was happening, he stood his ground. Jeremy gently moved Eric toward the door. “I - will - deal - with - this. Go back to your family.”

  Eric glowered and left.

  Jeremy closed the door and leaned against it. Rory moved toward Elly, but she stiffened, as if warning him to keep his distance. Jeremy was thrilled. She was magnificent. If he could teach her to harness that passion, she would… a vein pulsed in her temple. “Sit down, Miss Fielding.” He put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her into a chair. Her composure broke slightly. A soft sniffle wrinkled her nose and the vein in her forehead flattened.

  Eddy put his hands behind his back. An unruly forelock fell over his eyes, as he rocked on his flat feet and forced a smile. “If anyone asks me, I never heard of… Umm… what was that lady’s name?” He smiled at Elly and looked to Jeremy. “Can I go now, sir?”

  Jeremy nodded and Eddy slipped out. Jeremy kept the door open for Rory. “Mr. Cook, This is no concern of yours.”

  Rory stared at Elly, looking pale and ill. “Perhaps not, sir. But I would like it to be.”

  Michael threw up his hands. “Oh, this is brilliant. One bloke’s already ruined his life for her, and here’s another waiting in the queue.”

  Elly was horrified. “That’s not true.”

  Jeremy slammed the door. “Very well! Mr. Burns and Mr. Cook, by design or misadventure we all seem to be involved in Miss Fielding’s welfare. Therefore, I suggest we proceed with the utmost speed, order, and logic.” He pulled up a chair, sat down and commanded. “Please - sit - down!” They obeyed. “Mr. Burns, be so kind as to tell me all you know of this affair.”

  Michael sighed deeply and recounted his long friendship with painter Robert Dennison. “Yesterday, two letters arrived.” Jeremy raised an eyebrow and held out his hand. Michael gave him the letters and nodded toward Elly. “There was a note inside the second letter. It was addressed to her. I haven’t read it.”

  Jeremy read the first letter then passed it to Rory. As he read the second letter, his eyes narrowed. He handed that letter to Rory, and looked at Elly. “There is no mention of your mother.”

  “She’s dead, sir.”

  “Her family is in Germany?”

  “Yes sir, but I don’t know them.”

  “You never met?”

  “Once, when I was little. They wanted to take me to live with them in Germany. I wanted to go.”

  “Why?”

  “I was not happy at home.”

  “Why?” She tensed, so he did not press her. Instead, he turned to Rory. “Mr. Cook.”

  “Sir.”

  “You were for a time a student of the law.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “In your studies, did you ever come across a circumstance similar to this?”

  “Yes, sir. I wrote a paper on the 1861 Offense Against Young Persons Act.”

  “Do you believe that Mr. Burns is in danger from criminal prosecution?”

  Rory thought for a moment then shook his head. “No, I do not.”

  Jeremy turned to Michael. “I know nothing of the law, but it appears to me that your role in this has been negligible. I cannot believe the same for your unfortunate friend, what’s his name, Dennison? I don’t know how I am going to deal with Miss Fielding, but I see no need for you to remain with us. May I keep these letters?”

  “Please.” He stood, eager to go. “We’re off tomorrow. How will I know what you’ve decided?”

  “If there is anything you need to know, I shall send ‘round to your flat. If you hear nothing, fear nothing.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He sighed with relief. “You didn’t need to get involved. I don’t know why you did… but thank you.” He offered his hand and Jeremy shook it firmly. Michael looked at Elly. “Whatever happens, Elisa, good luck. You’re lovely. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for. I’m terribly sorry about all this.” He kissed her cheek and hurried out, closing the door behind him.

  Elly turned to Jeremy. “Please sir. No one knows I’m here. There is no need to send me away. You’ve even changed my name.”

  Still as chiseled granite, Jeremy gathered his thoughts. When he looked up, Elly was white as a sheet. “Miss Fielding, whatever I decide to do may impact everyone at His Majesty’s Theatre. It will most certainly impact your future, so I recommend that you think very carefully before answering my questions.” She sat up, bravely meeting his gaze. “Why did you run away?”

  She paused before speaking. “When I was a little girl, my father betrothed me to a man much older than himself.”

  Rory choked. Jeremy gave him a warning glare and turned back to Elly. “Who is this man?”

  “Sir John Garingham. A landowner. He mines coal.”

  “A man of means is not a bad match.”

  Eyes wide, looking ready to leap up and scream, she clutched her hands in her lap, and forced herself to sit still. Her words clipped through clenched teeth. “It is not necessarily a good match, sir.”

  “Do you find the gentleman objectionable?”

  Again, she measured her words. “The gentleman feels no fondness toward me, whatsoever. We share no interests and he finds no pleasure in anything that I do. When he visits, I am instructed to stay in my room. During meals, I am forbidden to speak, unless spoken to. When they have guests, I am expected to sing and play the piano, but Sir John talks throughout or leaves the room. When he does choose to see me in private, it is only to force his attentions.” Her voice rose and her body tensed. “Since I was fourteen, I have had many bruises from fighting his unwelcome advances.”

  Rory stared at Jeremy, but clamped his mouth shut.

  Jeremy showed no emotion. “Did your mother know of this betrothal?”

  “She died the night I was born. Father told me I was conceived from sin and my mother died as punishment.”

  Jeremy blinked hard. “It is not uncommon for a young girl to be betrothed to an older man of financial means. The fact that you do not like him has no sway in this argument.”

  “But that is the entire argument.”

  “Then it is a very poor one. Childish fears do not warrant respect. You have given me no reason to keep you here and risk a scandal.”

  “There is one other thing. Robert Dennison believes that there must be an estate from my mother’s family in Germany. My father has no money and Sir John has supported us my entire life. I have always been told that I must marry him, because I have no dowry. But Robert Dennison believes that Sir John would not have waited so long and spent so much money on my education, if I had nothing to bring to a marriage.”

  Jeremy wearily shook his head. “The state of your personal finances is irrelevant to His Majesty’s Theatre. I am sorry, Miss Fielding.” He stood and started for the door.

  She lurched after him. “What if His Majesty’s Theatre prevented a grave miscarriage of justice?”

  “A what?” He glared at her.

  “Surely the tabloids would enjoy such a story.” She posed like a paperboy, frantically waving a scandal sheet. “Special Edition! Young Actress Saved By His Majesty’s Theatre!”

  Jeremy was stone-faced. “How about: Special Edition! His Majesty’s Theatre Harbouring Young Fugitive!” He paused, reconsidering. “That is not bad, actually. Unless we knowingly broke the law. Since you told us that your name was Elly Fielding, we had no reason to suspect otherwise.”

  Elly and Rory exchanged hopeful glances.

  Jeremy continued, thinking out loud. “I was involved in a very nasty scandal, some years back. The theatre did well by it, made money hand-over-fist. It did not hurt my
career either, in the long run. The short run was bloody unpleasant.”

  He looked at Elly standing like Joan of Arc, young, tall, lean, eyes shining, poised for battle. She was an extraordinary girl. Perhaps she really could make them a fortune. He turned to Rory. “Mr. Cook. Just for the sake of argument, have you any legal knowledge of estate inheritance?”

  “Yes sir.” He leapt to his feet. His voice crackled with excitement. “There are many statutes regarding Law Of Real Property, Unfair Enrichment, and again, in the 1861 Offense Against Young Persons Act, there are clear provisions for defending properties of under-aged persons.”

  Elly pleaded, “There must be a law regarding the neglect of a young person whose estate is in danger of theft.”

  Rory stifled his excitement. “Of course there is. There are also laws regarding the wilful neglect of any persons who may be in imminent danger.” He stared at Jeremy. “Should we knowingly abandon a person in peril…”

  “She is not in peril.” Jeremy threw up his hands.

  Elly begged, “Please sir. If we can make my father believe that I actually have gone to Germany, then he will never find me. I have a new name. No one in London knows me.”

  Rory shook his head. “He can still find you, eventually, but at least he’d be delayed enough to… it would give us time to discover…” He fought to find the right words. “Miss Fielding, your father said that you were conceived from sin?” She nodded, humiliated by the memory. Rory’s blue eyes shone with excitement. “What did he mean?”

  She shook her head. “I never really thought…”

  Jeremy messaged his temples. “Now, what are you on about?”