Chapter Fourteen
Magdalene had found it hard to breathe for the past thirty hours, ever since she had rejected the captain’s marriage proposal. When the Marchioness of Hatbrook passed through the door of the Fancy on Tuesday, Magdalene’s lungs seemed to stop working entirely. Her stays felt three sizes too small. Would Captain Shield have told his sister-in-law what happened? Her face flamed hot with embarrassment, but she forced herself to return to the lacework icing she was creating.
“Alys!” Betsy cried, and ran to give the marchioness a hug.
Magdalene watched, dumbfounded, as Lady Hatbrook hugged Betsy’s round form. She might have thought they had not seen each other in years, rather than a matter of a few weeks.
“How is the baby? Are you feeling well?” Betsy asked.
“I am excellent. No more trouble in the morning.” Lady Hatbrook made a face. “I do need to acquire a new wardrobe, however.”
“Oh, I am happy for you,” Betsy squealed. “I would not know yet, though, to look at you.”
Lady Hatbrook saw Magdalene and gave her a nod. She returned it, her heart pounding.
“You are in Town for dress fittings, then?” Betsy prodded.
“Yes, Hatbrook’s sister is being presented at court next month. I took the opportunity to have fittings for myself.”
“You never cared for clothes.”
Her hand went to the drapery at the front of her skirt. “No, but I do care for comfort, and I certainly don’t want to refit my existing wardrobe. I am not such a fan of sewing.”
“Don’t you have a maid of your own now? I remember when you had to share with your sisters.”
“Yes, but Matilda has been very ill. Her confinement is only a few weeks away and I have insisted all attention be on her.”
“I see.” Betsy nodded wisely. “You might as well take advantage of the shops here.”
“And the modistes. But I did want to stop in and see how Redcake’s was faring. Is it as busy as last year?”
“Yes,” Betsy declared.
“You are recovered from your chill? Captain Shield said you had been ill last week.”
Magdalene still wasn’t sure about that. Betsy had no sign of a red nose or cough when she returned.
“I am very well, thank you.”
“Good. There is no time for illness in this operation.”
Magdalene hoped she had heard a threat in that sentence. The door opened and the apprentice baker bustled in with a tray of fruitcake, hot from the oven.
“Who is that?” Lady Hatbrook asked.
“Tom Mumford left to go on stage. This lad has taken over.”
“Who else is helping?”
“Irene.”
Lady Hatbrook looked inquiringly at the boy. “Very well. Why don’t you fetch us a pot of tea and a few scones, Betsy, and we’ll go over orders.”
“Love to.” Betsy watched imperiously as the lad deposited his cakes on a cooling rack and checked the oven in the alcove, then departed the room in his wake.
Magdalene tensed. She set down her icing bag.
“Captain Shield tells me you have resigned,” Lady Hatbrook said, when the door closed behind them both.
So he had told her something. But everything? “Not until after Christmas.”
“I see. I suppose you could not have expected to remain long.” Her voice was disinterested.
“I wanted to marry,” Magdalene said tentatively. “I think I shall, early next year.”
“Will you be out of mourning by then?”
“As soon as the time has passed,” Magdalene said, wondering if that would present a problem to the baronet.
“I hope in future the captain hires girls who plan a longer employment,” Lady Hatbrook mused. She wandered around the room, looking at the cakes in various stages of completion. “I cannot fault his hiring for talent, though. You do have skill.”
She stared at her icing bag, knowing now that the captain had not exposed her. “Thank you, my lady.”
Betsy soon returned, pushing through the door with a tray laden with a large pot, four teacups, and a tier of scones and sandwiches.
“You do understand a lady in my condition,” Lady Hatbrook said happily, pulling a stool up to the table.
Magdalene noticed that even though there were enough cups, none were poured for her or Irene, when she returned from the storeroom with containers of spices and dried fruit.
She and Irene began cutting up the fruit, but she couldn’t help listening to the conversation.
“How is the captain as a manager?” Lady Hatbrook asked. “By this, I mean, how is he in comparison to the last manager we had? He has been here just a bit over three months.”
“You let the last one go at three months,” Betsy said, handing Lady Hatbrook a plate.
“Quite. Your opinion?”
Betsy’s eyes met Magdalene’s over her teacup. Magdalene looked hurriedly back at the fruit.
“He’s a bit free with the ladies. Not like the other one. No hands on the girls, if you understand. But he is quite a flirt.”
Magdalene’s mouth dropped open. That was not true! Betsy had all but thrown herself at the man. She couldn’t help interjecting. “I’d like to know what you consider flirting, Miss Betsy Popham.”
“Every morning he’s smiling, and asking how I’m doing, telling me to come to him if there’s anything I need.”
“That is because you greet him at the back door every morning,” Magdalene said coldly. “Some might call that inappropriate as you should be at your post at that hour.”
“What about you? Coming in the door with him every morning, all huddled up under his umbrella like you’re courtin’,” Betsy shot back, losing her pretend gentility.
“Girls,” Lady Hatbrook scolded. “Irene, your thoughts?”
“He’s handsome,” the cakie said. “Any girl without a fellow would be a fool not to make eyes at him.”
“Who would you say is his favorite?”
Irene’s eyes darted from Betsy, to Magdalene, to Lady Hatbrook. “I think he’s nice to everyone. Mr. Hales does the rounds of the departments in the morning, and Captain Shield does the same in the afternoon.”
“They treat the girls with equal respect?”
“The captain is much friendlier,” Irene allowed. “But I’ve never seen him paying special favors.”
“But nothing to discourage their fancies either?”
“Well, no,” Irene said. “My goodness, it would take a lot for that. His eyes? Those broad shoulders? You know, my lady, being married to his brother. The Shield gentlemen, if you don’t mind me saying, are best of breed.”
Magdalene saw the marchioness’s lips quirk.
“How good of you to compare them to livestock,” said Lady Hatbrook, buttering a scone. “Is he too handsome to be let loose around unmarried ladies, do you think?”
“It is possible,” Betsy said, imitating her accent again.
“How dare you?” Magdalene said, unable to control herself. “You’d cost a good man his position because he is handsome?”
“That’s enough, Magdalene,” Lady Hatbrook said. “I will not have a raised voice.”
“I apologize, my lady. It is just that I feel the injustice of Miss Popham’s statement very keenly.”
“I am aware of that,” Lady Hatbrook said. “However, there are other factors to consider. I am very glad to hear there has been no molestation of the girls. It has happened before and I promised myself to be vigilant.”
“Soldiers have rough manners,” Betsy said, with a smirk in Magdalene’s direction.
Magdalene had little to lose, mentally packed for Yorkshire as she was. “Captain Shield is a gentleman, and an officer, no common soldier. He is the epitome of English manhood and that is why you have been making eyes at him.”
“Magdalene!” Irene gasped.
“It is because he is not interested in you, Betsy, not at all, not in the slightest bit, that you are so sou
r,” she continued.
Lady Hatbrook stood. “That is quite enough. You have curdled my tea, girls, and I was looking forward to that scone.”
“I am sorry,” Magdalene said. “I know Miss Popham is your friend, but Captain Shield is mine.”
“A strong statement.” Lady Hatbrook put one hand on her back.
She felt her lips tremble. “He bought me a coat and a bonnet, when mine were ruined. And he has done more, much more. He’s as good a person as you could possibly imagine. You are married to his brother. Please don’t let Miss Popham cost him his position. He likes it here.”
“You are overset,” Lady Hatbrook said. “I believe I should have had this conversation with each of you separately. But, Miss Cross, your loyalty speaks volumes.” She stood slowly and left the room.
Had she listened? Magdalene, Betsy, and Irene stared at the door as it swung closed, then Betsy turned with fire in her eyes.
“How dare you,” she hissed. “I’ll have your position for this.”
“I already gave my notice to the captain,” Magdalene retorted. “I’m leaving just after Christmas.”
Betsy’s mouth dropped open. “After all the training I’ve given you?”
“I do not think you will be here much longer, either,” Magdalene said. “You seem most eager to marry.”
Betsy’s plump face went purple. The door banged open and the apprentice slid in, a small tray in his hands. Irene dropped her knife and flew to the tray.
“Where are the rest of the cakes?”
The apprentice shrugged. “They burned, miss. I can’t say as how it ’appened.”
Irene threw up her hands in theatrical despair. “I needed those for a birthday cake! Now I’ll have to beg something from Mr. Melville.” She stormed out of the room.
Magdalene turned back to her lacework, ignoring Betsy. Though she did have to wonder why her comment upset the girl.
Upstairs, Judah saw his door open, and instead of his secretary, his sister-in-law popped her head in. He stood immediately. Did his family have to be in Town today, on the day after his greatest humiliation? He had not the heart to play the gallant brother just now.
“Alys.” He forced a smile. “I did not know you were coming by today.”
She lifted her arms, then lowered them again. He noted she had shed her outerwear already and wondered if she’d come right to his office.
“This is a very short visit, given Matilda’s condition. I did want to see my friends, though.”
No, she had been wandering the building. “Do you find everyone well?”
“I was a bit perturbed by a conversation I had in the Fancy, just now.”
And there it was. Bloody hell. Judah gestured her to an armchair by the fire and took a chair opposite. “I expect it is tense down there. Betsy was out ill for two days, and Magdalene worked twelve hours or more extra as a result. Even I helped out.”
“They are at each other’s throats,” Alys said succinctly.
He felt terribly guilty, knowing Magdalene had been working in an unsettled frame of mind, thanks to her plans. “I am sorry to hear that. Should I intervene? The scene was calm yesterday.”
“I am afraid it was the subject of you that had them perturbed.”
What had Magdalene said? “Really?”
“You must understand that management needs to set a certain tone, Judah. You cannot play favorites, or encourage any of the girls.”
“Is that what you were told?”
“It is obvious Magdalene is considered the favorite, and Betsy wants to be. The fact that you bought Magdalene a coat and bonnet, and apparently spend a great deal of time with her, will not benefit you among a group of young, unmarried women. You cannot be seen to have favorites,” she chided.
“Magdalene has given her notice,” Judah said, surprised by the path this conversation was taking. “I have tried to curtail Betsy’s interest in me, pointing out that I’m not her direct supervisor and that she does not belong in my office.”
“Of course she doesn’t,” Alys agreed. “But Magdalene?”
“That is a different situation. She is like me, of gentle birth but limited funds. We are friendly with her family.”
“We are not,” Alys said. “Her cousin is Lady Bricker.”
“I am friendly with her family, then,” Judah said, “though not Lady Bricker of course, as she lives in Yorkshire now.”
“I believe you should leave the hiring of lower staff to the supervisors of those departments,” Alys said.
“I agree. But you left the Fancy without a supervisor.”
Alys frowned. “When Magdalene Cross leaves her position, I strongly suggest no one replace her as your friend.”
“It is unlikely I would make the same mistake again,” he replied.
“No. It is hard for an unmarried man to work here, I believe. One is perpetually looking for a wife among the girls. Do you know, Betsy’s father had his eye on me at one time? Mr. Hales too, quite possibly.”
“I can imagine that. Ewan Hales may be courting Betsy now, though I had thought him situated elsewhere. I don’t know about her father.”
“You would do well to marry, Judah, if you wish to keep your position long term. You did tell me you liked it here. Marriage will make it easier. We do hate to think of you here, alone in London. Do you go out in Society much?”
“Hatbrook took me to one party. I am invited to a dinner at Earl Gerrick’s at the end of this week, but you probably will not want to hear that.”
“Anyone special for you?”
He sighed. “I had not planned to marry any time soon, Alys, but I did find myself proposing marriage only this week. The nights are long in London in the autumn.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I wish you very happy. Who is the lady?”
Judah shook his head. “She did not say yes.”
“No? Why ever not?” Her expression was half angered, half confused.
“The lady is Magdalene Cross,” Judah said, his voice constricting in his throat. “I learned she has a better offer.”
“Better than you? To hear her speak, you are a knight of old.”
“Really?” He found this curious.
“She defended you to Betsy Popham quite stoutly when Betsy inferred that unmarried women were not safe around you.”
He narrowed his eyes, but kept his voice calm. “As you say, they are not friends at the moment.”
Alys’s look had changed, from one of matronly judgment to sympathetic sisterhood. “I am very sorry. Do you love her?”
He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward, holding the weight of his upper body on his lower. “I thought she would be a good companion. I thought she was better off with me than in her brother’s household. It seemed to make sense.”
She shook her head. “A young lady wants to hear of love, not sense.”
“As you say. She said no, after all.” His chest ached.
She put her elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned her chin into her hand. “We are both tired, you and I. My sister Matilda is my burden, and Rose, who always has trouble with her lungs at this time of year. What is on your mind?”
“It is too soon to rid my thoughts of Magdalene,” he said. “Her brother struck her not long ago. I’m afraid for her. I am glad she is going. It cannot be soon enough.”
“The Scandalous Crosses,” Alys said with a sad smile. “Magdalene is a fiery personality herself.”
“I cannot offer her what she wants.”
“What does she want?”
“Society. She is very proud of being part of it.”
“You are as well born as she. Better, actually.”
“You and I both know that isn’t true,” Judah said.
“I do not. After all, I am a tradesman’s daughter. You are at least half gently born, through your mother.”
“Legitimacy is everything,” he said. “Unless you are a royal bastard, I suppose. But I am not.”
�
��No one in this family will ever tell,” Alys said. “You can hold your head high.”
“No, I can’t. I work for a living. I want to work for a living. I want to be what I am. I am perfectly content with myself. I thought Magdalene fit my life. She has other ideas about her place in the world. That is all.” He wished to stand, to pace, to go outside, but he could not be rude to Hatbrook’s wife. And his employer.
“Knowing what you want is at least half the battle,” Alys said. “I understand from Hatbrook that you could marry Courtnay’s daughter. Victoria, I think? Perhaps when you have reconciled yourself with your present disappointment you can revisit her.”
“Thank you, sister,” Judah said, an edge in his tone. “Have you picked out a wife for Gawain, too?”
“I do not believe he is in the market for a wife,” she said.
“I do not want to marry.” Was he telling a lie? At least Gawain had a mistress. He had wanted to find his father, not find a woman. Besides, Gawain had money to spend on a house and clothes for his mistress.
“Do not fool yourself. You do. And trust me, a good marriage is such a precious thing.”
“I am sure it is.”
“You can be sure,” she returned. “I hope to see you for dinner at Hatbrook House tomorrow evening.”
“I shall be there.”
She stood and offered him her cheek to kiss. “Have faith, Judah. It will become easier in time. But I would not look for a wife inside this establishment.”
He shuddered. “I have no intention of doing so.”
It had been a couple of weeks since Judah had seen Eddy Jackson bear the wounds of recent battle, so he was disheartened to see the boy’s bloodstained collar when he arrived for his newspaper that foggy, gray Wednesday. The weather suited his mood after the many disasters of the day before and he suspected the same for the newsboy. At least the blood on Eddy’s collar was dry.
“New details about the Mitchelstown Massacre,” the lad shouted, drawing the interest of a wild-eyed young man in checked trousers, who threw him a penny and received a paper.
Judah had considered going to Magdalene’s home in a hansom, but he would not throw himself on that altar again. She might not want to see him today. He had thrashed the sheets from their place tucked under his mattress the night before, wondering why she had defended him so fervently if she didn’t care for him.
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