Jago consulted his notes, looking for all the world like a policeman. ‘Says here, he couldn’t be arsed!’
Laughter sounded in the kitchen at his remark.
‘You going to tell the missis?’ asked Seth as he looked at a worried Simmons.
‘I suppose informing Miss Orpha what we know about the empty warehouses would be confirming what she already suspects.’
‘But her… she… needs to be told!’ Alice snorted.
‘Leave it with me,’ Simmons said, ‘I will inform the mistress of the lies told regarding the empty buildings, and you two boys…’ Jago and Seth looked up, ‘well done!’
Chapter 47
Orpha threw herself into getting the new shop in Commercial Road up and running, and at last the opening day arrived. With shelves stacked with mouth-watering confectionery and the coffee shop ready for custom, Orpha opened the doors. The already growing queue of women trooped inside and Orpha greeted them all with a smile.
The coffee shop did a brisk trade as did the shop, and by the end of the day Orpha left exhausted but happy at the success the first day had seen.
Hortense was pleased to see her daughter and over tea Orpha related how well the new shop had done on its opening day. Hortense watched the girl as a sadness clouded her face and asked, ‘So what’s up?’
Orpha glanced at the woman sat opposite her and said, ‘I had a row with Ashley.’ Hortense nodded and Orpha went on to explain the details of the heated argument that had taken place in the garden.
‘So how was it left then?’ Hortense asked.
‘We’ve made up now.’ Orpha shook her head, trying to stem the tears she felt begin to line her lashes at the memory.
Hortense went on, ‘Do you think he loves you? Or do you think he’s just after your money?’
‘I do think he loves me, Mother, but I’m afraid he may have designs on my money and business even though that may not be his intention. Regardless of any wealth of his own, I am aware of the law and I know it will all belong to him once we are married. Naturally, having worked so hard to build up the business, I don’t want to give it up to become a bored housewife.’ Orpha’s tears cascaded silently down her cheeks.
‘So what are you going to do about it?’ Hortense asked, ignoring the girl’s sobs.
‘I don’t know! What can I do?’ Orpha’s voice cracked.
‘Seems to me you have a choice to make. You either marry him and hand over your business and money… or you tell him to go to hell and hang on to your hard-earned wealth!’ Hortense harrumphed.
Orpha knew her mother was right in what she said. She knew she had to make a decision soon; the day of the wedding was drawing ever nearer. If she chose not to marry Ashley then she should tell him sooner rather than later. If she chose to marry him then she would have to live with his temper and hope the signed document stored with her solicitor would stand up in court if Ashley pursued his rights to her money. Orpha walked home lost on the horns of the dilemma.
*
Hortense smiled into the flames in the grate after Orpha had gone. Her daughter, it seemed, had met her match with Ashley Rochester. Orpha would not be rich for long if she married that boy, everything would belong to him after the wedding. Orpha would find herself dependent upon her husband, much as she had been with Abel. The High and Mighty Miss Orpha Buchanan would become the low and weak Mrs Orpha Rochester! Hortense laughed out into the emptiness of the room. However she would not see the day how the mighty had fallen this way. There was no way Hortense could let her daughter marry the man she had set her sights on. She knew it was up to her to prevent this wedding one way or another.
Her mind once more returned to Abel and she wondered how he would feel about seeing his daughter lose her money to her new husband. She considered asking him, but he had made it very clear on her last visit he wanted nothing more to do with her. She could always write a letter to him pointing out his daughter would be penniless once married. He would know this of course, but she would enjoy rubbing his nose in it.
Moving to the small sideboard, she took out pen, ink and notepaper. Sitting at the table, she began her letter to her husband.
*
Simmons was finding it more and more difficult to hide his feelings from the mistress of the house. He watched in silent anger at how her husband-to-be treated her; he would disappear for days on end with no explanation. The wedding day was almost upon them and Simmons couldn’t bear the thought of the love of his life marrying another. Perhaps it was time to move on. Maybe he should submit his notice and leave the house… leave the town.
He knew he would never love anyone the way he loved Orpha Buchanan and he also knew they could never be together while he was a butler. Sitting by the fire in the kitchen lost in his own thoughts, he was unaware of Beulah Jukes watching him as she worked.
Where did Ashley Rochester go when he was not here in this house? Were those warehouses being used or were they standing empty? Simmons made up his mind, he had to find out!
‘You’ve come to a decision then?’ Beulah asked as Simmons banged his cup onto the table. As his eyes found hers, she added, ‘I’ve been watching you this past hour and that cup tells me you’ve made up your mind about something or other.’
‘I have indeed, Beulah!’ he responded with a smile. Going to the back door, he whistled out for the stable boys. As they ran into the kitchen he asked everyone to sit and hear him out.
‘Oh gawd!’ Alice said. ‘Looks like Sherlock Holmes is planning something again… he’s called in Watson and his friend!’ Laughter filled the kitchen before the serious discussion got underway.
Simmons related his thoughts about Ashley’s life whilst away from Orpha. He said, ‘I want to know where Mr Rochester goes, what he does, how he gets his money, and what is going on regarding the warehouses. I think the man is only after Orpha’s money… he is a gold digger. I don’t think Ashley loves Orpha at all, in fact I think he holds no respect for her either. This is not sour grapes because he is engaged to the woman I love, but I feel it imperative we find out more about Mr Ashley Rochester.’
Jago nudged Seth, saying, ‘It looks like we’re going out on a mission again!’ Simmons’ nod attested to this statement. ‘How are we going to explain not being here?’ Jago asked.
‘If you are missed I’ll think of something. Now I want you to take pencil and notepaper and write everything down. Times, places… everything! We could save the mistress from making the biggest mistake of her life… if we’re quick enough!’
So with money in their pockets, the two stable boys set off for Ettingshall Road and the hovel belonging to Ashley Rochester.
*
Ashley had left Orpha quietly standing in the gardens of Buchanan Mansion and would make her sweat before his next visit. Realising she had been too harsh with him, she would be in a better frame of mind when he eventually returned to Buchanan Mansion. He could not afford to push her too hard in case she called off the wedding and that would never do.
Now as a new day dawned he boarded the train for Birmingham dressed in his new clothes and drawing admiring glances from women sitting in the first-class carriage. It was time to earn himself some more money. Settling himself, he did not notice the two boys scrambling into the third-class carriage further down the platform. In fact he was unconcerned with anyone, he had a headache and was feeling quite unwell. He passed it off as the onset of a head cold.
Alighting the train at New Street Station, Ashley made his way through the crowded streets to Ladywell Walk. Walking up the drive of a large house, he banged on the front door with his cane. The door was opened by an older woman. She was well into her fifties but had retained her beauty and maintained her figure. Allowing him entry, the door closed them off from the street and prying eyes.
Jago and Seth ran swiftly and quietly up the driveway and hid beneath a window which looked into the parlour. Noting down the time and address, they peeped through the window. They watched as Ashl
ey pocketed the money the older woman had given him before wrapping his arms around her and kissing her fiercely.
The boys exchanged a shocked look then went back to watching the scene unfolding in the parlour. Ashley Rochester was undressing the woman, then he laid her on the couch as he disrobed.
Seth muttered, ‘He’s going to…!’
‘Shhh!’ Jago urged, slapping a hand over the other boy’s mouth before they continued to watch the goings-on.
The boys followed Ashley discreetly all day, noting down the details as they had been requested to do. They could hardly believe the man was going to certain houses, ones he was welcomed at – ones he had obviously visited before – and was selling himself for money!
Sitting on the board seat in third class on the train home, they joked in hushed voices about the day and whether there was a word for a male prostitute!
Ashley was immensely pleased with himself. He had asked for more money and they had paid it. It could be distasteful work, but it beat picking coal any day. He decided he would stop off for a meal and a beer in the Coach & Horses on the Wolverhampton Road before going home. He needed to relax, after all he’d had a busy day!
Chapter 48
Simmons listened patiently to the story the boys told in the kitchen along with the oohs and ahhhs from Alice and Beulah.
‘We couldn’t believe it!’ Seth gushed. ‘All these old ladies… beggin’ your pardon, Mrs Jukes… he was…’
‘All right,’ Simmons said, holding up a hand to halt the boy’s words, ‘I think we all understand now where Mr Rochester is getting his money from.’
‘Oh my God!’ Beulah said in absolute horror. ‘What about Miss Orpha! Simmons, we have to tell her!’
‘How?’ Simmons asked. ‘We can’t just say “Miss Orpha your husband-to-be is a gigolo”!’
The boys exchanged a quick glance – so that was the word for it!
‘I know that!’ snapped Beulah. ‘But we can’t just let her go ahead and marry the swine!’
‘We have to go about this very carefully, Beulah. We have again interfered in “upstairs” business… for all the right reasons, I grant you… but it’s interference nevertheless.’ Simmons shook his head at the quandary. ‘The only way I can see is for me to tell her, then hand in my notice. That way she’s aware of what we’ve learned about Mr Rochester and I can move on and spare her embarrassment.’
‘You don’t have to give in your notice, Mr Simmons, it was us who followed him, and it should be us for the chop!’ Jago intervened.
‘No lad. It was my doing, and besides, I’m not sure I could stand by and watch her marry someone else, however good or bad may they be.’
The mood in the kitchen settled into a sombre quiet as each mulled over the situation in their own mind.
*
Abel sat in the study at Buchanan Mansion reading the post. A letter had arrived… from Hortense. In it she pointed out the folly of Orpha marrying Ashley Rochester.
Abel knew the law and he had worried about Orpha’s estate being taken over by her husband. His daughter knew the law also and yet she’d planned the wedding. Obviously marrying Ashley was more important to her. He thought of the hard work and long hours Orpha had put into the business; of her contending with men who were of the opinion she should be at home tending her children; of the Royal Warrant awarded her by Queen Victoria – was Orpha really willing to give all this up for a man?
Abel also knew the letter from his wife was her way of shooting another barb at him for the way he had treated her. Looking again at the letter, he read that Hortense had suggested he pay Ashley off with some of the emeralds he kept safe in the bank. If he thought for one minute it would work, he would do just that. However, Orpha had been lost to him once before and he could not risk being alienated from her by doing such a thing; she would never forgive him for driving away her man. No, the best he could do would be to talk to her and make sure she knew exactly what this wedding entailed.
*
It was the day to try on her wedding gown for final adjustment, she had told the family. In fact she had secretly gone to Ettingshall Street to see for herself where Ashley lived. It was as she approached the old houses that she saw him emerge from one of them and he was dressed in his Sunday-best clothes.
Following discreetly, she saw him approach the station. Where was he going? How could she find out? Circling the queue of people at the ticket office, she stood with her back to them pretending to look out of the window. Listening carefully, she heard people buying their tickets. Then Ashley’s voice had asked for a third-class ticket to Birmingham. Orpha wondered if he was trying to conserve his funds by not travelling first class.
Moving to the end of the queue, she waited her turn. Buying her own ticket, she boarded the train quickly and found a seat in the first-class compartment.
Orpha alighted the train in Birmingham, and as she left New Street Station she followed Ashley in the crowd. Pushing her way through the throng of people, she kept him in her sights.
Hurrying to catch up to him, she was delayed at almost every step by people coming and going. Fear of losing sight of him, Orpha fought her way along the streets. Where had all these people come from? Then she realised it was market day and folk came from miles around looking for bargains. Birmingham, she remembered, had a market twice a week unlike that of Wolverhampton which held its market every day. As she stepped around children playing hopscotch, a game of hopping on numbered squares chalked on the street, Orpha saw Ashley walk up the driveway of a house. She rushed along but stopped dead in her tracks as she saw him waiting at the door of the house. Orpha shot back behind the hedge as he turned in her direction. Had he seen her? Chancing a peep round the hedge, she saw Ashley kissing an older woman on the doorstep. This was not a motherly kiss… this was a kiss full of passion!
Shock held her to the spot for a moment then she ran up the drive to look in the window. She saw, although unbeknown to her, exactly what her stable boys had witnessed the day before.
The horror of the scenario had her stumbling back down the driveway. Her stomach rolled as she walked away from the house. Her colour had drained from her face and she felt sick. Leaning against a hedge, she began to retch and suddenly lost the contents of her stomach. Wiping her mouth with a handkerchief, she thought, how could he do this to her when he had so readily professed his love for her? If he needed money so badly he could have asked her for it. But no, not Ashley, he would never ask her for money… he preferred to take it, all of it, after their wedding!
Dragging herself into a coffee shop drained of energy, Orpha sat with her drink thinking over what she’d witnessed. She should refuse to marry him and tell him why. Orpha paid for her coffee and strode out for the wedding shop to fetch her dress. She would pay for it now she’d ordered it, but she would not be wearing it.
In the wedding shop in Birmingham, Orpha collected her finished wedding gown. Tailored in the empire line style, the bodice was white velvet and the long white silk skirt reached to sit nicely on top of her white side-button shoes. The top of the leg-of-mutton sleeves were silk that matched the skirt, and the lower sleeve of velvet fastened with tiny silk-covered buttons. The back of the skirt had a velvet spoon-shaped train inserted. The finest piece of Nottingham lace draped her black hair, held in place with a small tiara on which sat three white silk roses. Checking her look in the long cheval mirror, Orpha felt none of the excitement she knew she should be feeling. Assuring the worried dressmaker it was exactly as ordered, Orpha asked for it to be boxed for its journey home.
Chapter 49
Simmons opened the front door and greeted Orpha, ‘Welcome home, ma’am, been shopping I see.’ He eyed the box as he relieved her arms of its weight.
‘Hmmm,’ Orpha muttered, climbing the sweeping staircase to her bedroom with Simmons and the box in tow. ‘Just put it on the bed please, Simmons,’ Orpha said as she looked at the butler. He knew what the box contained, she could see it in h
is sad eyes.
‘Should I send Alice up to hang it for you, Miss Orpha?’ he asked as he walked to the door.
‘No thank you, Simmons, I’ll do it later.’
‘Very good, ma’am,’ he bowed slightly and turned to leave.
‘Simmons,’ Orpha called him back, ‘may I ask you something?’
‘Of course, ma’am, anything,’ he answered. Feeling a little uncomfortable at being in her bedroom, he stayed by the door.
Walking to face him, she said, ‘Simmons have you ever been in love?’ Then suddenly added, ‘I’m so sorry I should never have asked you such a question, please forgive me.’ Orpha blushed crimson as she lowered her eyes.
‘Ma’am,’ Simmons whispered, ‘I have indeed been in love and it hurts like the very devil!’ Orpha looked up at him and he added, ‘Pardon me, ma’am, but I take it you are not experiencing that feeling with Mr Rochester?’
Shaking her head, Orpha’s tears threatened once more.
‘Ma’am, may I speak freely?’ Simmons asked, and at her nod he went on. ‘It is my contention you are not in love with the man you intend to marry.’
Orpha’s head rocked back and forth on her neck as she thought about his words.
‘If that should prove to be the case,’ he added, ‘then marriage to him would most certainly be a mistake.’
Suddenly a weight lifted off her shoulders and reaching up she kissed Simmons on the cheek. Stepping back she said, ‘Thank you Simmons.’
*
Mrs Jukes watched the butler drink his tea, his other hand occasionally brushing his cheek.
‘You got a shaving rash?’ she asked at last.
Simmons shook his head and said nothing as he lapsed back into thought of that kiss. It was only a fatherly peck, he told himself, but his heart fluttered at the memory. His love for the mistress of the house was growing day by day and he found himself seeking any excuse to see her. He had to be careful; she might think he was stalking her and take offence.
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