by Glynis Smy
‘Peasant girl or not, your sister informs me she is your fiancée. You are to be married. You are despicable James Lockwood. You have taken me with false pretences. I ask you to leave me alone. I would appreciate it if you forget our past. I have to live with my mistakes. You duped me into believing we could have a future. Had I ever thought otherwise, I would not-would not...’
Hurt and angry Kitty turned away and walked swiftly back to the house. Her body trembled. His kiss had hit home, and so had his taunt. He had treated her with no respect. James had manhandled her with a roughness she had never experienced from his hands in previous encounters. Before re-entering the ballroom, she took a few deep breaths and prayed her eyes were not too red.
‘Miss Harper. I do believe this is our dance.’ A tall gangly male stood before her. He gave a semi-bow and his hair flopped forward. Kitty took a deep breath, hysterics bubbled inside, and she dared not let it loose.
‘Thank you, sir. Shall we?’ She led the way to the dance floor.
Her gaze followed James as he re-entered the ballroom. He stood beside his fiancée with his arms folded. His face had a dark, cold look when he returned her gaze. She was shocked. He had never looked at her that way before; his face had always been alive with smiles.
Do not weaken. He is no longer yours.
She turned her head away from his direction, and started a conversation with her dance partner. She spent the rest of the evening dancing with strangers. To the outside world she looked vibrant and happy. Inside she felt a heavy weight of loss.
***
James watched Kitty from the sidelines as she swirled around the room, head thrown back and laughing. She flirted openly whenever they danced past him. James knew it was all show. Kitty wanted to torment him. To show him he had done wrong.
‘James. Dance with me. Please. Dance with me.’
His companion and her whining annoyed him.
‘I am sorry. I have developed the most dreadful head pain. I am going to speak with my father, and return home. Forgive me. They will ensure you arrive home safely. Goodnight.’ He kissed the back of her hand and walked away. He approached Evelyn Whitfield and Kitty.
‘Mrs Whitfield. Miss Harper, I have come to claim my dance. Forgive me for missing my turn earlier. I was otherwise engaged.’
Kitty was furious; his play on words twisted her insides.
‘I am sorry, sir. Mr Lockwood. It appears my card is full. Our hostess has ensured I am not alone this evening. Missing your chance is truly unfortunate; however, I am certain your lady companion will be grateful for the extra dance. My apologies, your fiancée. Your future bride. She deserves your dance.’ Kitty trembled as she spoke. She hoped Evelyn would not notice the tension in her voice.
‘Enjoy the rest of your evening, Miss Harper. It is truly a shame I missed my opportunity.’
‘Most definitely, sir. Another time. Who knows, maybe our paths will cross again. Should your fiancée need a wedding gown, remember my name. I would be more than happy to oblige.’
Evelyn cut into the conversation.
‘Gracious, you must Mr Lockwood. Your bride would be a vision in one of Kitty Harper’s creations.’
‘I will not forget. I assure you. Thank you ladies.’
Chapter 27
Resentment
James walked away and sought out his mother. He explained he was not feeling well and needed to leave. As he left the room, he watched Kitty as she was whirled around the room. His temper was threatening to make him act in haste. His rejection from Kitty had been infuriating, it was imperative he left quickly.
Instead of returning home, he sat in the lounge of a gentleman’s club, and brooded over what had just happened. His drink had not calmed him. It had stirred up a fire in his belly. Kitty had shown a side of her personality he had not seen before; she had been angry, flirtatious and tormented him. If his father had not been such a bull headed male, and saw love for what it was, he would never expect James to marry the girl next door. His mother had reprimanded him for the unkind things he said about her, and James was disappointed in her. She must know the arrangement is wrong. He was convinced, if he told her about his love for Kitty, she would approve. Hannah was fond of Kitty, she would support him, of that he was certain. Of course she would not stand against their father though, and James would not want her to suffer his verbal lashing for speaking out.
He saw nothing in their choice. He could find no reason for going along with the marriage contract. To James the girl was an eyesore, a bore and a hurdle to his future happiness. Her facial features were not flattering, and he feared the torment of looking daily at any offspring that should inherit them. The hatred for his father was at its highest, it was adding fuel to the fire inside. To deprive him of the beauty and gentle nature of Kitty was beyond all reasoning. She belonged to James, the chemistry between them, could not be denied. But, he needed funds, money to give her a future. To feed any children they might have. Without his inheritance, he was nothing. He had no skills; he had a multitude of jobs that he could perform, but no true skills.
A second brandy was called for; he caught the eye of a passing waiter and placed his order. While he waited, he pondered over what would happen if Kitty and he were to marry. The need to kill never appeared to go away and he wondered if it ever would. He had tried to ignore its call, but to no avail. If he were married, he would need good reason to leave the home at night. His temper would still need to be released. James had never before considered this obstacle. Arthur would be jealous of James if he married her, so for their working partnership to continue, they would need to put all differences aside. They would have to present a united front, pretend to join a club of some description, so at least once a week they could continue their project. Arthur of course, would be free to continue any day that he pleased. James felt a twang of jealousy. Then he shrugged it away. There was no doubt. He wanted to marry Kitty. He would continue his task. In James’s mind he was doing good in the Whitechapel neighbourhood. It released tension for both Arthur and he, and they cleared London of the types of women that should not be allowed to live. He and Arthur were doing favours to the overloaded workhouses. Those they killed could not be considered murdered - they were culled. James mused; it was no different from the culling of foxes on the farm. It removed an undesirable. The waiter returned with his drink and James drank it straight down. It was time to get some air. He left the building and opted to walk in the opposite direction to his usual nightly walking area.
With each step he thought ahead of the next day, and future plans. Tomorrow he would call upon his neighbours; they were staying in a guesthouse nearby. He would apologise to the daughter and plead that he had felt ill. He would then find a way of persuading his father to reconsider his clause in the inheritance papers. Now his father had seen her alongside the mayor, he might approve. If all went well, he would then ask William for Kitty's hand in marriage. He was certain William was keen on their friendship and would not refuse the request. Kitty on the other hand, might need a bit more persuasion, but he was certain he would be able to turn her around and say yes.
The walk and thinking had still not cleared the stirred up feeling he had inside. He knew what the cause was and was fighting against it as it bubbled to the surface. His anxiety usually resulted in the death of something or someone.
He weaved in and out of couples. Tonight he seemed to be the only person alone. It was probable that even Arthur had the company of some willing female. Arthur's choice in female amazed James. For someone who wanted to better himself, he chose some rather unsavoury women to share his bed.
The houses he walked past were owned by the wealthy. He had seen them before in the daylight. If ever he were to move to the city, he would purchase one. They were tall, elegant and made a statement to the viewer. A person of wealth and importance owns me. The streets were tree lined, unlike some he walked, that were lined with drunks.
A young woman came out of the side alle
y of one of the houses. He recognised her, even in the dimming light. He had come across her before, and she was an impertinent little madam. Her full-blown cockney accent was loud and far larger than her tiny frame. She was cock sure of herself, and James had been angry the day he had first met her. She had spoken out of turn that day. He had been in a hurry to get away from a prostitute he had suffocated during a night of drunken sex. His father had been waiting to meet him, and he was still in his evening clothes. He had borrowed his father's silver badger head cane without permission, and knew the combination of all three errors would cause him problems. During his haste, he had bumped into a couple of laundry maids and knocked one over. He had given her a whack with the cane for her trouble. Anyone who had gotten in his way that day suffered his bad mood. The maid ahead of him now, that had shouted at him from the doorway and instead of moving on, he had stayed to give her a piece of his mind. Before he could take his temper out on the other two, they had left. A wise move, as it could have ended in tears and embarrassment for them all.
He followed the girl down the road. She was going to regret shutting the door in his face that day. He was in the mood for revenge, to teach her a lesson in manners. Acid in his stomach formed gas, and as a natural reaction he belched. The girl turned to the noise. She stopped for a few seconds, but James continued at a steady pace.
‘Did ya call me sir?’ the girl addressed him. Clearly she had not recognised him.
‘Um, yes miss. I wonder could you direct me to, now where was it again. Ah, yes. Parchment Street.’ James knew there was no such road; he had made the name up, to enable him to gain the trust of the girl.
‘Parchment Street. I ain't never heard of it, na sorry I cannot help ya. Night.’
She turned and walked away. James was so close to her he would be able to reach out and touch her shoulder, but he did not want to be too close to draw attention to himself. Instead he stopped and pretended to look in his pockets for something. Doing so also gave him chance to look around to ensure no one else was in sight. He could see the head of the girl bobbing down the street. He knew at the other end was a small walk through and it led out into a pathway to the church. He lifted his feet with care; he did not want his shoes to make too much noise. If he could get to the girl before she made it out to the other side, he would have an advantage over her.
He coughed as he entered the lane. The girl was half way down. She turned around again.
‘Oi, are you following me?’
James stomach clenched, but the girl laughed.
‘You know where you are going now?’
James had caught up with her.
‘Yes, it isn't Parchment street my friend lives in, it is Piermont street. It is close to the church, the one at the end here.’
‘Yeh, I know it. Not a place a toff like you would wanna be seen at though. Git ya wallet nicked, nuffin is safe round there. Wadcha doing going down there? Gotta girl waiting for ya, eh?’
Her forward manner irritated James, but he stayed calm, he needed to stay in control and keep her attention. He had managed to keep his distance so she could not recognise him as the man who berated her, but he was going to have to get close to her before they left the lane.
‘Ha, you caught me out, you clever thing. Yes I have a friend waiting for me there.’
The girl laughed.
‘What’s 'er name? I might know 'er.’
‘Charlie, short for Charlotte. What's yours?’
‘Me? I am Lucy, Luce to me mates, but Lucy to my mistress.’
‘Well Lucy, Luce, I am Ernest, Ernie to my friends. It is nice to meet you.’
He held out her hand, and to his delight the girl was as gullible as he hoped. He pulled her towards him, lifted her off his feet, and kissed her. There was no sweetness in her breath like Kitty, and he gained nothing from the kiss. He placed her back on the ground.
‘Well, yer girl ain't gonna like you kissin' other women, is she? You're a fast one, ain't ya? Still I ain't complainin'. You kiss a gal a good'un. I wanna tell ya tho', I ain't a dolly mop, and I ain't no skirt lifter. You ain't gettin' nuffin from me. Then she frowned at him, a flicker of recognition crossed her face. ‘Ere ain’t you the bloke what hit my friend when you knocked her over? You b…’
James looked down at the girl. She was so tiny. Within seconds he had lifted her into his arms. Her small bag lay where she had dropped it, when he snapped her neck. He kicked it to one side, and ran to the end of the lane. He looked right, then left and saw no one around. The churchyard was straight ahead and was in darkness. He ran with her towards a large oak tree, and leant against it to catch his breath. He laid her body on the grass. It was damp; the rain from the afternoon had not evaporated completely. The girl looked like a broken doll, all thin limbs, and limp. The moment of the kill had helped release his frustration, and he was ready to head home for sleep. He felt no remorse. She meant nothing to him. She had merely been a means to an end. She was a tool that had helped him through a difficult time. He put her body into the centre of a large bush. It would be a long time before she was ever found. Stray dogs and rats would feast on her first. There was no point burying her body, it would be safer for James to get out of the area.
***
When he arrived back at the guesthouse, his parents were home from the ball, and he explained he had walked for air to clear his head. His mother sympathised, but while he was removing his coat his father berated him for bad manners.
‘You are an embarrassment. We find you a decent girl to help your future and secure the farm, and what do you do? You throw it away. That girl was hurt. You could see it in her face. Do not walk away from me sir. Stand here and listen to me. I will not have bad manners from my sons. Do not tell me to shush woman, go to bed. James it is about time you and I had a talk.’
James’ mother made her escape. James took a deep breath; he could not risk losing his temper. He controlled his voice and faced his father.
‘Please, can it wait until morning, Sir? My head is pounding. I know you want me to marry Gillian, but I cannot. I have no love for her.’
‘Love? What do you mean love? Utter nonsense, you will marry the girl with no argument. Love has nothing to do with it. Do you think I loved your mother? No, she grew on me over the years, granted. I cannot imagine life without her now, but loved her? No, I married her for the farm. Her father had no male heir, it was a good business, and I knew I could make a go of it. Love, pah, get your head out of the clouds. There's many who would trade your place. When I am gone, you will be in a good position if you are her husband. If you want pretty, find a city whore to keep you happy, but for pity's sake marry Buckworth's daughter.’
During his speech, James’s father had banged his fist on a small table. James watched his arm bounce up and down. There was no point in arguing, he would never hear the end of it. His father was beginning to stir up his insecurities again. Killing Lucy would have been a wasted effort if he allowed him to continue.
‘I understand father. Your concern is for my future. I will go to bed and think over your words. You are right, I know. It is just that I thought love and marriage went hand in hand. I did not consider marriage as a business deal. It must be because you and mother always look so happy together.’
‘Well think on them wisely, or your brother will benefit and I will remove you from my will. Beggars cannot be choosers, and believe me; I will make you into a beggar if you defy me. No one would take you on as a ploughboy for miles with one word from me.’
James was careful not to rise to the bait. He put his hand out to his father.
‘Good night father. I will heed your words wisely. I am no fool.’
He did not wait to hear anymore from his father. He knew if he stayed the conversation would end badly. He walked away from the room, and fought the urge to return and give his father a piece of his mind. To tell him that he could keep the farm, and that his brother could run it for all he cared. That he would make his own way
in the world that he did not need to be bullied into marriage just for a few acres of land.
The following morning his mood was no better. He had not slept well and breakfast was a tense affair. His parents appeared to have had an argument, and their silence held an air of tension. James could not wait to leave their company, to be away from the unspoken words.
He leant and kissed his mother on the cheek, and she patted his arm.
‘Are you going out, son? We are dining with the Buckworth family tonight do not forget.’
‘Upon my honour, Mother, I will be there. I promise.’
His father spoke to him as he passed by the head of the table. He gripped James by the wrist and looked up from his seat.
‘I have promised to look at some cattle today. Can I trust you to remember to meet me at two thirty at the Corn Exchange, or is that too much to ask? And may I remind you, you owe our friends an apology.’
James kept his face focused on his father, and refrained from wincing as the grip tightened. His father was goading him; he was looking for an argument. James refrained from reacting.
‘I am on my way to apologise now. Then I have some business of my own to attend to, after which I will meet you in Mark Street at two thirty.’
He pulled his arm away, and moved towards the door.
‘James, could you make an effort not to argue with your father please. It makes life quite uncomfortable for us all.’
He walked back to his mother, placed a kiss on her forehead, and walked away. He did not respond to her words, there was no need. She had made her point, he was to be quiet, and do as he was told. It was not a good start to his day.
Chapter 28
Destruction and Mistrust
Two days later, William and Sarah had spent a few hours with Kitty. They listened to her chat on about the ball. She relayed every little detail; apart from the falling out she had with James.