Benson thought quickly. There was a good chance the boy was telling the truth, and if that was the case he’d better not go too hard on him. However, he couldn’t just bring the boy into the drawing room unannounced, there were certain proprieties to be observed. He would take the boy into the kitchen and question him further, then, if he was satisfied with his story he would discreetly inform Master Hugh of the boy’s presence.
Clearing his throat he turned to Agnes.
‘Take the tray in before it gets cold, girl. I’ll see to our visitor,’ he ordered grandly. Then stretching out his hand he made to take Charlie by the arm. Charlie, mistaking the man’s intention pulled away, his hand fighting off the old man’s grasp.
‘No, you’re not throwing me out, yer silly old codger. I want to see Mr Hugh. I told yer, Mr Harry sent me.’ His voice was rising in fear and desperation. Harry’s words echoed in his mind. Whirling round he ran to the foot of the stairway shouting wildly, ‘Mr Hugh, Mr Hugh, it’s me, Charlie. Please Mr Hugh, I need yer.’
Benson watched horrified as the boy ran up and down the hall, before bounding forward to drag the boy out of earshot of the drawing room.
‘Be quiet, boy,’ he hissed frantically, ‘I’m not going to hurt you, I merely want to…’ When Charlie’s boot caught him sharply in the shin he gave a cry of pain and quickly released his hold.
‘Mr Hugh, help!’
Man and boy froze as the green baize door at the end of the hall flew open and a stout man dressed in a black morning jacket and dark grey trousers came storming towards them.
‘What in thunder is going on out here?’ Edward Stewart demanded, his black eyes sweeping over the startled trio. Charlie recognised the voice of authority, and felt his courage slipping away.
Then his arm was gripped once again as Benson tried to regain control of the situation.
‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ he began, ‘but this here person forced his way into the house demanding to see Mr Hugh. He claims Mr Harry sent him. I was about to settle him in the kitchen, sir, while I…’
Edward Stewart waved his hand impatiently. ‘Yes, yes, all right, Benson, I’m sure you acted correctly,’ he interrupted the old man, his eyes fixed on the young interloper. ‘You, boy, come here,’ he ordered, and Charlie, his legs feeling like jelly, approached the imposing figure.
Wetting his lips he was about to explain his presence once again when a familiar voice cried out, ‘Charlie? Charlie, is that you?’ Charlie spun round, his body going weak with relief at the welcome sight of Hugh descending the stairs.
‘Oh, Mr Hugh, Oh, crikey, I’m pleased to see yer. Thank Gawd you’re here. Maggie’s ill, really ill. Mr Harry sent me to get yer, he said I wasn’t to take no for an answer. Can yer come now, Mr Hugh? Harry said…’
‘Maggie ill?’ Hugh repeated. The welcoming smile had dropped from his lips, leaving his face troubled. ‘How do you mean, ill? Has there been an accident of some sort?’
Charlie felt as if he was back in the hut with Harry listening to the same questions, and felt a rising sense of desperation.
‘Please, Mr Hugh, I ain’t got time to explain it all now. Can’t you just get yer black bag and come with me?’
‘I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Charlie,’ Hugh said gently. ‘I have to know what the problem is so I can bring the correct medication with me.’
Casting an apologetic look at his father he asked, ‘May I take Charlie into the library, Father? He’s an old friend of mine and Harry’s, and I’d like to help him if I can.’
All eyes were on the head of the household, not least of all Charlie, who still half-expected to be thrown out on his backside. Moving closer to Hugh he waited for the autocratic man to speak.
‘Well now, seeing as this young man had stormed the barricades, so to speak, I’d be interested to hear the reason behind his action.’ The voice, still authoritative, was now tempered with kindness. When the portly face creased into a smile, Charlie experienced an overwhelming sense of relief.
‘You, girl, fetch another cup for our guest, and you, boy, come with me.’
Agnes and Benson watched in amazement as the boy walked with the master and Mr Hugh into the drawing room. The elderly butler was the first to recover, and turned to the open-mouthed maid.
‘Well, don’t just stand there gawping, you heard the master, fetch another cup. And you’d better make a fresh pot of tea, that one will be stone cold by now.’
Agnes picked up the tray, her body bristling with indignation.
‘Well! I never thought I’d see the day. A common barrow-boy being brought into the drawing room for tea, just like he was a friend of the family. I bet Miss Bella’ll have something to say about it.’
‘That’s as may be, girl, but this isn’t Miss Bella’s house. Now do as you’re bid and look sharp about it.’
With a defiant toss of her head that threatened to dislodge her white, starched cap, Agnes cast one last disapproving glance at the green baize door before marching back to the kitchen.
Charlie’s new-found confidence was short-lived. Flanked on both sides by these men of importance he had for a moment felt his courage returning, but when he saw the three, elegantly-dressed women staring at his entrance he felt his face flame with acute embarrassment. Disconcerted, he vainly tried to shuffle his feet and found the reflex action hampered by the deep pile of the patterned carpet.
Anxious to gain a moment’s respite, he let his eyes wander round the room he found himself in, his breath catching in his throat at the grandeur that greeted his gaze. Dusky pink velvet curtains with heavy be-tasselled pelmets hung on either side of the large bay window. Directly beneath lay a dark silver chaise longue, the bright threads of the material glinting in the sunlight that flooded the room. To the side stood a highly-polished mahogany cabinet upon which rested numerous china ornaments. By the open fireplace, where a coal fire was burning brightly in spite of the mildness of the day, sat two black leather wing-backed armchairs. But it was the centre of the room that held Charlie’s attention. The women were seated round an octagonal, spindle-legged table, their full skirts billowing over the tapestried chairs, obscuring the curved wooden legs from view.
They made an impressive trio. The eldest of the women wore a white lace cap on her fair hair. Her gown was of the palest blue and in her lap lay a piece of embroidery, her hand holding the needle momentarily stilled by his unexpected arrival. On her left sat another fair-haired woman. This one was younger, her plump figure highlighted by a maroon dress with the latest leg-of-mutton sleeves. Although both women were regarding him with curiosity, their blue eyes were kindly. Not so the third woman, who was glaring at him with undisguised hostility. He recognised her immediately as Harry’s sister and without stopping to think said loudly, ‘Hello, Miss. I hope you got home all right?’
All eyes turned towards Bella.
‘You know my daughter?’
Charlie turned to the man by his side, his heart sinking as he realised the gaffe he had just committed. Shuffling his feet he murmured, ‘Not really, sir. I met her at Harry’s, I mean Mr Harry’s site this morning…’ His voice trailed off, uncomfortably aware of the tension his word had evoked.
‘Did you indeed?’ the gruff voice said ominously.
‘Father,’ Hugh interjected quickly, ‘I really think we should listen to what Charlie has to say. Maggie, I mean his sister, may be seriously ill. I’d like to get to her as quickly as possible.’
Edward remained staring at his daughter, his black eyes filled with contempt. God! Even the commonest prostitute wouldn’t stoop to plying for trade while their customers were at work. It wasn’t to be tolerated. There was a way to put a stop to her antics, 3if Beatrice would agree. He had first thought of the plan last year when she had started her unnatural attentions towards Hugh. Then Hugh had announced his engagement and he had put the idea to one side. Now it seemed he had no option but to implement the plan. But first things first – he would listen now to
what the boy had to say, and deal with Bella later.
‘Mr Hugh…’ Charlie implored, his voice cracking with urgency.
The plaintive voice brought Edward out of his reverie. Assuming a stance, he waved towards one of the plush covered chairs.
‘Sit down boy, and let us hear what you have to say.’
Once seated, Charlie carefully kept his gaze on Hugh as he related once more the incidents leading up to Maggie’s illness. This time, however, he was prudent enough to omit Jimmy’s part in the story. He had hardly finished before Hugh was on his feet and heading for the door.
‘She’s obviously in a trauma brought on by delayed shock,’ he said to no-one in particular. ‘I can sedate her for now with laudanum – that will give her mind a chance to rest. Together with the drug and plenty of care she may recover. If not, I’ll ask Dr Hawkins to attend her. He’s a good man, although I must confess some of his ideas are totally beyond my comprehension.’
Charlie leapt from the chair, the muscles in his face working furiously. ‘We don’t want no other doctor, Mr Hugh. You can make Maggie better, Mr Harry said so.’
Hugh looked at the agonised face and shook his head. ‘Calm yourself, Charlie. I’ll do all I can, but I may need some help.’ Then before Charlie could answer Hugh had left the room.
‘Now then, young man. What say you go to the kitchen and ask cook for some food to take home with you?’ Beatrice was smiling kindly at him. ‘Edward, ring the bell would you, dear? I’m sure Mrs Sheldon has plenty of pies and pasties in the larder.’
Charlie watched as the portly man pulled on a long, tasselled rope hanging by the door and protested indignantly, ‘We ain’t beggars, we’ve got plenty of money to buy food. Me and Maggie don’t need any charity. I just need help to get her better again.’
Beatrice and Edward exchanged glances, a gentle smile hovering about their lips.
‘I’m sure you are well able to fend for yourself,’ Beatrice said kindly. ‘But your sister is going to need nourishing food if she is to make a full recovery. It isn’t charity to want to help someone. Ah, here’s Agnes.’
Turning her attention to the maid she said, ‘Take this young man to the kitchen and ask cook if she will pack a small hamper. I will leave the selection of food to her discretion.’
‘Yes ma’am,’ Agnes bobbed, then waited for the boy to follow her, leaving Charlie no option but to do as he was bid.
In the upper part of the house Hugh was busily checking his black bag, his actions mechanical as he tried to stem the wild beating of his heart. After all this time he was going to see Maggie again. Maggie with her lovely face and sweet smile. His mind went back to their first meeting. He had been shy at first, never wholly at ease with attractive young women, but Maggie had drawn him out and encouraged him to talk about himself and his work, showing a genuine interest in what he was saying. Not that there hadn’t been plenty of young women who would have been only too happy to spend time with him, but he had never felt comfortable in their presence; not like he had with Maggie.
He had looked forward to their meetings at the park, eagerly counting the days until he would see her again. Never before in his life had he felt so relaxed and sure of himself as he had in those few precious months. Then Harry had started to discourage him from joining him on the Saturday excursions, but for once Hugh had ignored Harry’s wishes. The desire to see Maggie had been too strong, over-riding the risk of annoying his elder brother. Then had come that Saturday when he had been called into the hospital and Harry had gone to see Maggie on his own. That had been the last meeting. When Harry had told him that neither of them would be seeing Maggie again, Hugh had felt an overwhelming sense of loss, and despite constant probing as to why, Harry had remained tight-lipped.
A few months later he had asked Lotte out to dine with him. He had known her a long time, but had never looked upon her as more than just a friend. That was until Bella’s attentions had begun to suffocate him. In a desperate attempt to get away from her unwelcome and sometimes frightening ministrations, he had in a moment of recklessness asked Lotte to marry him. Snapping his bag shut he made for the door. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. Lotte was a good woman, he felt safe with her, safe and secure. Not exactly the perfect recipe for marriage, yet he had been happy with the arrangement – until now.
‘Come along, man, pull yourself together,’ he said to the empty room. ‘There was never anything between you and Maggie. She was kind to you, because that is her nature, but any real affection she felt was directed at Harry.’
Still he remained, his hand resting on the doorknob. What if when he saw her again, the old feelings came back. No! He mustn’t think like that. Maggie belonged in the past – his future was with Lotte. Nodding to himself he left the room. He was a doctor about to attend a patient, that was all that need concern him. Why then did his stomach continue to churn at the prospect of seeing Maggie again?
* * *
When the door had closed behind Charlie and Agnes, Bella, unable to keep quiet any longer, burst out, ‘Surely you’re not going to allow Hugh to visit some dirty slut in her own home, Lotte? Women like that should go to the hospital and wait their turn with the rest of her kind. I’ve never heard of anything so preposterous – imagine a doctor of Hugh’s standing making house calls to someone of her class. I certainly wouldn’t allow my fiancé to go unaccompanied to examine a woman of dubious character.’
Lotte Winters rose slowly to her feet. ‘But Hugh isn’t your fiancé, Bella, he’s mine,’ she said steadily. ‘And what you seem to be forgetting is that I am a nursing sister and well used to treating people from all walks of life.’ Turning her back on the furious Bella, she turned to Beatrice and Edward.
‘Would you both excuse me? I’d like to see if Hugh needs any help.’
‘Of course, my dear,’ Edward escorted her to the door.
‘I’ll instruct Benson to find you a cab to take you to your destination.’
Bella sat, inwardly fuming. How dare the woman talk to her like that?
After the initial shock of hearing that Hugh was to become engaged, she had visualised some pretty empty-headed chit of a girl whom she would be able to manipulate as she had done Hugh. But from the first meeting with her future sister-in-law she had realised with a shock that this woman was made of far sterner stuff than the man she planned to marry. The damned woman had even managed to instil some backbone into the once weak, indecisive Hugh – a transformation the rest of the family had been delighted at. Not so Bella, who saw once again her plans crumbling into dust. Her chest heaving with frustration she made one last attempt to thwart the proposed visit.
‘At least you’ve the sense to accompany him. Harry’s probably rushed back to his precious buildings by now and you wouldn’t want Hugh left to the tender mercies of a woman of the streets. If you ask me…’
Edward, his face dark with rage, went to speak, but Lotte forestalled him. Placing a restraining hand on his arm she stared across the room at her adversary and answered evenly.
‘But nobody did ask you, Bella. However, since you have raised the subject, I’m neither insecure nor desperate enough to object to Hugh examining woman patients. I’m sure if it was up to you, he would spend his life dealing only with men. Fortunately the decision doesn’t lie with you. After all, you are merely his sister, and as such have no say in how he conducts his practice – nor his life,’ and with that last parting shot she left the room with Edward at her side.
‘Why, that jumped up…’ Bella was on her feet, her hands clenched tightly by her side. ‘Who does she think she is, talking to me like that. I’ve a good mind to…’
‘To what, Bella?’ Beatrice asked, her normally gentle voice hard. ‘As I see it, Lotte was perfectly within her rights to say what she did, and if she hadn’t, your father most certainly would have. And he wouldn’t have been so polite. Now sit down and stop that pacing, it will do you no good. As Lotte has quite rightly pointed out, Hugh’s affair
s are no concern of yours, and the sooner you realise that the better it will be for all of us. Because I’m warning you, Bella, your father has had just about enough of your antics, as have I.’
Bella’s agitated steps faltered as acute discomfort swept over her. Keeping her back turned to her mother she answered stiffly, ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about, Mother. Indeed, if there are any recriminations to be levied, they should be directed at your two sons. It is they who have sought to consort with the dregs of society. It’s unfortunate enough they have to deal with these people without encouraging them to come to the house. All I have done is to show an interest in my brothers’ work, I find no shame in that. It was bad enough that Harry’s name is a byword in the East End; now he is seeking to drag Hugh down with him. If it wasn’t for Harry’s influence, Hugh could be practising in a private residence in Harley Street, instead of that disease-infested hospital. And what of Lotte? Spending her days looking at and laying hands on filthy men and women, performing tasks that no decent woman would consider doing. I suppose someone has to see to the wretches, but in my opinion, it should be people of their own class.’
Beatrice’s eyes clouded over with compassion as she listened to her daughter ranting. How sad and how utterly tragic that a person could be consumed by so much hatred and jealousy. What a waste of a life, what a terrible waste.
The sound of the door opening brought both women’s heads round. Beatrice quickly shot Bella a warning glance, but Bella, still smarting from the home truths she had endured this day, was desperate to justify herself and shift attention away from her deeds. Facing her father defiantly and jutting her chin out, she exclaimed loudly, ‘Really, Father. How could you bring that urchin in here? It was bad enough that you allowed him entrance to the house, but to invite him to take tea with us was unforgivable. Goodness know what we might catch from him – he’s probably crawling with lice. I really must protest at…’ The words died in her throat at the steely glint in the black eyes regarding her.
A Handful of Sovereigns Page 22