The Cockney Sparrow

by Dilly Court

  Clemency sensed trouble; she met Jared’s eyes with a questioning look. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Marceau called on me this morning. He accused you of stealing his cufflinks. Of course, I told him that it was unthinkable, but he knew I was lying.’

  ‘Will he go to the police?’

  ‘No. He wouldn’t want it to be known that he had attempted to seduce a young girl at a Mansion House reception. But he’s a dangerous man, Clemency. We will have to be careful this evening.’

  Clemency stared at him aghast. ‘This evening? What do you mean?’

  ‘We are going to a private dinner party at the home of a senior member of the Vintners’ Company, and Marceau is certain to be there. If I refuse it will offend my host, who donates generous sums to my charities, and I want to engage Monsieur Marceau in a card game after dinner.’

  ‘But I don’t have to go, do I?’

  ‘You must, or it will look like an admission of guilt. One whiff of scandal and we’re finished.’

  ‘Why do you take all these risks?’

  His eyes flashed, cold as steel. ‘I want what is rightfully mine. Marceau obtained my house by cheating, and I intend to get it back, one way or another.’

  ‘But how can you be certain that he cheated?’

  ‘My father knew what Marceau had done but he had no proof. In those days to call a man a cheat would be to challenge him to a duel, which was illegal even then.’ His grim expression lightened just a little. ‘I can’t force you to accompany me, Clemency. If you would rather stay at home, I’ll understand.’

  She stared at him in surprise. She thought she had seen him in all his moods – arrogant, autocratic, on occasions teasing and even passionate – but she had never known him to be so considerate. She did not want to see Marceau ever again, but, quite suddenly, she was on Jared’s side. She met his eyes with a steady gaze. ‘I’ll come with you. We’ll get the bugger, you see if we don’t.’

  He took a step towards her. For a moment, she thought that he was going to take her in his arms, but he seemed to think better of his impulse and he hesitated. ‘I won’t give him the opportunity to be alone with you, be sure of that.’

  Clemency watched him as he strode off in the direction of his study. A strange mixture of emotions confused her heart and her brain. One moment she hated him, and the next she – she was not quite sure how she felt. She had never been in love before. How could she possibly tell if the churning in her stomach, the fluttering of her heart, and the racing of her pulses every time he was near was a symptom of the ailment that sent perfectly sane people completely daffy? If this was the path to madness, then she was already halfway there. She hurried downstairs to the kitchen and comparative sanity.

  But things seemed to be just as fraught below stairs. Augustus was pacing the floor, resembling a demented penguin in his starched white shirt and black tailcoat. Nancy and Edith were eyeing him warily as they prepared vegetables for the evening meal, and Ronnie was making an attempt to calm him down.

  ‘I’m sure that Tom will look after Lucilla,’ Ronnie said, matching his step to keep up with Augustus. ‘He’s not a bad chap at heart.’

  ‘I can’t stand it any longer. Anything could have happened to her. She might have died in childbirth. That rogue might have abandoned her, and she could be starving in a gutter.’

  ‘No, no, old chap. You mustn’t think like that.’

  Nancy threw a half-peeled potato at Augustus, catching him on the head. ‘Shut up, Augustus. I’m sick of hearing you going on and on about your silly cow of a daughter. She should have kept her legs crossed and she wouldn’t have ended up in trouble.’

  He came to a halt, rubbing his head. ‘You attacked me, woman. Anyway, you have no children of your own, so how could you know what a parent feels?’

  Nancy waved the paring knife at him. ‘If I had a daughter, I’d have looked after her a bloody sight better than you did, old man.’

  ‘Now, now, Nancy,’ Edith said, patting her on the arm. ‘Don’t be hard on him. Can’t you see he’s upset?’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Clemency stood at the top of the stairs, staring down at them. ‘What’s happened?’

  Augustus looked up at her with his arms outstretched. ‘I’m tortured, Clem. No one understands how I feel. I’ve done everything I can to find my little nightingale. In desperation, I put an advertisement in The Times asking for information as to her whereabouts, but I have not received one single reply.’

  ‘Well it was a blooming silly place to put it, if you ask me,’ Nancy said, curling her lip. ‘Only toffs read that newspaper. You might as well have thrown your money down the drain.’

  ‘Don’t be unkind, Nancy.’ Edith went to put her arm around Augustus. ‘She don’t mean it, love.’

  ‘Perhaps you should go and look for her,’ Clemency said reasonably. ‘If you find the O’Malley brothers, they might know where Tom and Lucilla are lodging. After all, he did follow them hoping to find work as a navvy.’

  Augustus took out a pocket hanky and blew his nose. ‘What you say is true. I believe that the O’Malleys were seeking work on the new extension to the District line from Putney Bridge to Surbiton.’

  ‘Well then, old chap,’ Ronnie said. ‘It would make sense to travel on the underground train to Putney Bridge and make enquiries in that area.’

  ‘Good man.’ Augustus grabbed him by the hand and shook it. ‘That’s the best idea yet. I’ll set off right away.’

  Ronnie caught him by the shoulders, and pushed him gently onto a chair. ‘Best wait until tomorrow, old fellow. Start early in the morning, and it will give you the whole day to find them.’

  ‘Listen to Ronnie,’ Edith said earnestly. ‘He’s making good sense. And he could go with you.’

  ‘Would you do that for me, Ronnie?’ Augustus looked up at him with flicker of hope in his eyes.

  Ronnie nodded. ‘Of course I would.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Augustus trumpeted into his handkerchief.

  ‘That’s settled then,’ Edith said with a satisfied smile. ‘And, if Nancy don’t mind, I think I’ll take the opportunity to visit Hannah Blunt in Flower and Dean Street. She was good to me when I was took ill, and I ain’t had the chance to thank her.’

  Ronnie frowned. ‘Make sure you gets home before dark then, ducks. They haven’t caught the Ripper yet.’

  ‘Yes, Ma,’ Clemency said, nodding in agreement. ‘You should get a cab there and back. I’m sure Jared would gladly give you the fare.’

  ‘Oh! Jared is it now? I hope you’re not forgetting your place, girl.’

  Clemency felt the blood rush to her cheeks. ‘Don’t talk soft, Ma.’

  ‘Just remember what happened to Lucilla,’ Edith said, shaking her head.

  Augustus gave a groan and buried his face in his hands. ‘My baby. My little nightingale.’

  ‘Edie!’ Ronnie shot her a reproachful glance. ‘That wasn’t very tactful.’

  ‘No, Ma. And it’s not the same thing at all,’ Clemency said angrily. ‘I just work for Jared – Mr Stone. There’s no funny business going on between us.’

  ‘Your ma is right.’ Nancy jabbed the knife into a potato. ‘Men is beasts, the lot of them. Present company being the exception to the rule. Just remember, young lady, that men can’t control their lust when there’s a pretty girl involved. Let what happened to Meg Jones be a warning to you.’

  Clemency tossed her head. ‘There’s no need to worry about me. I wouldn’t have anything to do with Mr Jared Stone even if he was the last man on earth.’ The expression on Ma’s face, and the way Nancy’s mouth gaped open, together with an indrawn breath from Ronnie, made Clemency spin round. She saw Jared standing at the top of the steps. She knew by the set look on his face that he had overheard her last remark.

  ‘I’ll need a cab at seven o’clock, Augustus. Be ready by six thirty, Clemency. I want to go over our plan for the evening.’

  There was a moment of stunned silence
as the baize door swung back on its hinges.

  ‘He doesn’t usually come into this part of the house,’ Clemency murmured, as everyone stared at her. ‘He should have rung for Augustus.’

  ‘And servants should know their place,’ Edith said, wagging her finger. ‘You remember that, my girl. Nancy’s right – servant girls who forget what they are end up on the street.’

  ‘I’m not a servant,’ Clemency cried passionately. ‘I’m as good as any of them above stairs. And don’t you lecture me on how to behave, Ma. I never stole another woman’s husband, nor ended up being used by men like Hardiman and Connor.’ She broke off on a sob, and raced up the stairs.

  When she reached the sanctity of her own room, she threw herself down on the bed, pummelling the pillows with her fists. She was trapped, like one of the wild animals in the Zoological Gardens, but the bars on her cage were invisible. She was bound by ties of loyalty to see Jack through the course of treatment that might give him the chance to walk again. She must make certain that Ma was fully recovered and safe from Hardiman before she could even think of leaving. Then there was Jared – she owed him much – but she was desperately afraid. She sat up, staring at the little squares of rooftops and blue sky divided up like a puzzle by the windowpanes. Her fear was not of Jared himself, but the tumult of emotion that he had created inside her. Did she hate him – or did she love him? Her head reeled and her heart ached. Her thoughts and feelings were as divided as the individual panes of the window frame. She did not know the answer.

  ‘Clemency.’

  She jerked into an upright position as she heard Isobel calling her name, and tapping on the door.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  Clemency wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Yes. Come in, Izzie.’

  With a flurry of silken skirts, Isobel rushed into the room and threw herself down on the bed beside Clemency. ‘I thought I heard you crying. What’s wrong, dear?’

  Sympathy was worse than scorn or anger, and Clemency had to fight to contain her tears. ‘N-nothing.’

  ‘It’s that brother of mine, isn’t it? He’s upset you now, as well as me. What has he done? You can tell me.’

  ‘No, it isn’t Jared. I lost my temper with Ma and said things I shouldn’t have.’

  ‘Oh, is that all.’ Isobel gave her a hug. ‘I’m always doing that with Grandmama and Jared. Family mean well, but they will interfere. Look at me, for instance. They’re determined to push me into an arranged marriage, and I intend to have Nick as my husband, no matter what.’

  Clemency gave an involuntary chuckle. ‘I’m sure you will.’

  ‘That’s better.’ Isobel took a scrap of lawn and lace from her pocket and handed it to Clemency. ‘Wipe your eyes. And you can tell me what’s really going on between you and Jared. And don’t give me that innocent look. I’m not stupid.’

  Startled by this sudden and unexpected interrogation, Clemency turned away to mop her eyes. ‘I – I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Yes, you do. I thought you were hired to be my companion and to chaperone me, and yet Jared takes you out almost every evening. What’s going on between you?’

  Clemency slid off the bed and went to stand by the window. ‘There’s nothing between us. It’s strictly business.’

  ‘What sort of business? Come on, you must tell me. I want to know.’

  ‘You should ask Jared. It’s not for me to say.’

  ‘Is he your lover? Is that it, Clemency? Are you sleeping with my brother?’

  Clemency spun round to face her. ‘No! How could you think that, Izzie?’

  ‘But you love him, don’t you? I can tell by the way you look at him. I understand, because I feel like that whenever I see Nick.’

  She was caught, like a fly in a spider’s web. ‘Perhaps I do, but you must promise me you won’t say a word to Jared. I can’t tell you why he takes me with him on these excursions, but it isn’t for my pleasure or his. You must ask him, or simply trust him to do what he thinks is best for you, Izzie.’

  ‘You really do love him.’ Isobel rose from the bed. ‘I hate to think what he expects of you, my dear. But I admire your loyalty to him. I just hope he doesn’t break your heart.’

  Clemency shrugged her shoulders. ‘He doesn’t even know that I have one, Izzie. Your brother has a mission, I can’t tell you more than that, but I’m just the cat’s paw in his plans. When it’s done, I’ll leave. It’s as simple as that.’

  Isobel clasped her hands over her heart. ‘Oh, you poor dear. I could kill Jared at this moment. But I won’t ask any more questions.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m sure he’ll tell you everything when the time is right.’

  ‘And in the meantime, we’re going out. I’m going to take you to a meeting of the Social Democratic Federation. Annie Besant is giving a talk this afternoon. She’s going to speak about Mrs Pankhurst and the Women’s Franchise League. It’s really inspiring, and the best part is that I know Jared would hate it. Wash your face, put your new hat on, and we’ll go.’

  Clemency listened to the speakers at the meeting. She could not help but be impressed by their fervour, and she admired their aims and ambitions for improving the lot of women. But she couldn’t help feeling that the well-dressed, well-heeled middle-class women who crowded the assembly hall had little knowledge of what it was really like to live in the slums of the East End. A lot of what was said went over her head and she found herself dozing off at one point, only to be dug in the ribs by Isobel, who was drinking in everything with an ecstatic look on her face.

  ‘Weren’t they splendid?’ Isobel demanded as they filed out of the meeting hall. ‘Aren’t you inspired to join the movement, Clemmie?’

  ‘I think they have an uphill fight on their hands,’ Clemency replied.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Isobel’s eyes shone with excitement and she linked her hand through Clemency’s arm. ‘One day we’ll have the vote and be able to make a real difference in the world.’

  ‘I’m sure we will.’ Clemency walked on in silence while Isobel enthused about the cause. All she could think about was that tonight she was going to have to face Marceau and feign innocence. She would have to stand by and watch Jared attempting to win back his family home, staking everything on the turn of a card. What, she wondered, would idealistic Isobel think if she knew that their comparatively extravagant lifestyle was paid for by petty crime and embezzlement? Would Isobel be so fond of her, if she knew that Jared employed her as a common thief?

  Chapter Nineteen

  The evening started badly. The dinner party was held in the grandest house that Clemency could ever have imagined: liveried footmen opened the double doors beneath a temple-front portico. The entrance hall had an echoing, cathedral-like quality, and the air was redolent with the scent of white lilies arranged in huge urns. She was still gazing at her opulent surroundings when she saw Marceau heading towards them, with a scowl deepening the furrows on his brow. He did not bother with the social pleasantries. ‘You stole something from me, mademoiselle. You are playing a dangerous game when you cross me.’

  Jared stepped in between them. ‘Leave her alone, Marceau. This matter is strictly between you and me.’

  Although the words were spoken in an undertone, Clemency could see that they were attracting the attention of the other dinner guests, and she tugged at Jared’s sleeve. ‘Please, not now.’

  He glanced down at her and she was shocked by the harsh look that had turned his eyes to chips of granite, and etched his mouth into a hard line. He shook her hand off, and turned to Marceau. ‘You and I have some unfinished business, monsieur.’

  Marceau’s eyes flicked from Clemency to Jared. ‘Give me one good reason why I should not call a constable, and have this girl arrested for theft.’

  ‘I challenge you to a card game. Tonight, after dinner.’

  ‘For what stakes? As I understand it, you are a poor man, Stone.’

  ‘I want the house in Islington that should rightfully belong
to me.’

  Marceau threw back his head and roared with laughter, causing heads to turn. ‘You English have a good sense of humour.’ His expression hardened. ‘But I see that you are not joking. I will play you, but you will not win.’

  ‘I will, if you play fair.’

  Clemency held her breath: for a moment she thought that Marceau was going to strike Jared, but his gaze wandered to her, and the undisguised lust in his eyes made her blood run cold.

  ‘Very well,’ he said, curling his lips into a smile. ‘My house – against your ward.’

  ‘What?’ Jared slipped his arm around Clemency’s waist, drawing her to him. ‘Never.’

  ‘My spies tell me that the little bird sings. Her talents are wasted on you, Stone.’

  ‘What spies? What are you talking about?’ Jared’s arm tightened around Clemency’s waist.

  Marceau’s lip curved in a wolfish smile, and he tapped the side of his nose. ‘What is it you English say? Ask no questions, and you’ll be told no lies. There is a man who has a grudge against you both, and that makes him most useful to me.’ His smile faded and he turned to Clemency. ‘Every move you make is being watched.’

  ‘Hardiman!’ Clemency whispered. ‘It’s Hardiman, isn’t it?’

  ‘You are a coward, monsieur.’ Jared faced Marceau with a cold stare. ‘You prey on young girls, but you are afraid to take me on at a card game. Name any stake you like, but leave Clemency out of this.’

  Marceau turned away with Gallic shrug. ‘You know my terms, monsieur.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Clemency whispered in Jared’s ear. ‘I trust you. You can beat him.’

  He shook his head. ‘No. The stakes are too high.’

  ‘Then you will never win back the pile of bricks that is so important to you. But I will have the girl, one way or another, Stone.’

  ‘Come anywhere near her and you’ll be sorry. You can pass that message on to Hardiman as well.’ Jared took Clemency by the hand, and headed towards the main entrance. ‘We’re leaving. I won’t sit at the same table as that villain.’

  ‘But, Jared, we’ve only just arrived. We can’t just walk out like this.’