‘How, pray tell, do you come to know Seven Dials well?’ He sounded horrified.
For the briefest of moments she actually considered telling him. It would be interesting to see how he absorbed that sorry tale. ‘You already know that I take an interest in the plight of the poor, but to do that effectively it is imperative that I go where they are living in order to help. When I can, I help out at a soup kitchen that is run by the church. They feed some of the most unfortunate souls one hot meal a day. Often it is the only food those people get. Sometimes I attend meetings and lectures run by sympathetic organisations that continue to lobby Parliament for change. That is where I was going today.’
He regarded her with incredulity. ‘You are talking about Radicals, Miss Mansfield! Organised groups of agitators, hell-bent on starting a revolution.’
‘In my opinion, they are unfairly labelled as Radicals. They are good people whose only crime is to seek reasonable political reform.’
‘Reasonable political reform occurs in Parliament, not in shady taverns and back rooms. If you wish to make your opinions known, you would be better advised to write a stern letter to your Member of Parliament so that he can raise your concerns in the House properly.’
Amelia was momentarily astounded at his ignorance. ‘What utter nonsense! Do you seriously believe any one of those idiots would listen to a letter from a woman? Those fools do not listen to anybody who is not in a position to vote for them. In case you have failed to notice, that means that the majority of the population are of no consequence to them. They do not care about the poor. Nobody in Parliament does.’
This raised his ire further and when he answered it was practically a growl. ‘There is no justification for consorting with Radicals!’
‘What you, in your fine clothes and gilded life, might dismiss as Radical others see as simply good people demanding basic fairness. What is wrong with asking for reasonable wages for an honest day’s labour? Then the poor could at least feed themselves and pay for a roof over their heads. The tragic souls in the soup kitchen all work as hard as they can—yet their masters pay them such a pittance that they are forced to live on charity.’
‘My gilded life!’ He had a habit of only hearing the few words that were particular to him, a trait common to his ilk.
‘Yes, your gilded life. What do you know about being poor? Have you ever been truly hungry? Or not had a comfortable bed for the night or the money to buy what you need? You claim to want to do what is right for all of this nation’s loyal subjects, yet you have no concept of how difficult life is for the poor.’
‘I do not need to have experienced those things to know that they exist. I am a politician. A servant of the people. I make it my business to find out about such things and push for reforms that will alleviate their suffering.’
‘A servant of the people? How very self-sacrificing and noble.’ Amelia found her pointed finger poking him in his chest. The patriarchal arrogance of the man was astounding. ‘You cannot learn about the effects of poverty from reading.’
He grabbed her finger and pushed it away. ‘I have visited the places you speak of. I have been to factories and slums and workhouses.’
Amelia rolled her eyes at that. They were all the same, well-meaning aristocrats who believed themselves to be enlightened and benevolent. ‘Did you go there like this?’ She gestured to his fine clothes sarcastically. ‘I am sure that all of those establishments were very eager to put on a good show for the illustrious Duke of Aveley. I am sure when you visit everything appears splendid. Tell me, what does your world smell like? Fresh paint?’
‘Are you suggesting that I am purposefully misinformed?’
‘I am suggesting that your perspective of poverty is very different from the perspective of those actually suffering from it. I have experienced those problems first-hand and believe me when I tell you that there is nothing enjoyable about being one of the voiceless poor.’
‘Well, you certainly will not be experiencing any such problems in the future. From this point forward, you are expressly forbidden to ever go to Seven Dials or to meet with your revolutionary associates again!’ At her outraged expression he held up his hand imperiously, just as her father always had when he had issued a decree. ‘And you are also forbidden from leaving Aveley House without my aunt or a footman under any circumstances, and if you do I am to be informed beforehand.’
Amelia felt her own temper rise at his dictatorial tone. She was not a child or a chattel. She had been an independent woman since the day her mother had died almost four years ago. That independence might have been foisted upon her, but she was damned if she would surrender it to another titled man just because he said so. ‘You cannot order me around. I answer to no one.’
His big hands curled into fists in his lap and his deep voice was more clipped and aristocratic than she had ever heard it. ‘Might I remind you, Miss Mansfield, that you are employed by my family? Although I am becoming increasingly convinced of the fact that you are wholly unsuitable for the position in which my aunt has entrusted you. If you wish to remain in my aunt’s employ, you will do as I say or, the moment we arrive at Berkeley Square, you will pack your bags and you will leave!’
And there it was. The stark choice that she had been dreading but expecting nevertheless. Could she leave the safety and security of Lady Worsted’s employment and embark on yet another awful journey of toil, hardship and misery? Morality was all well and good, but it did not put food on the table. But a tiny part of her refused to be subservient to another powerful man and his unreasonable demands, no matter what the personal cost. Could she give up trying to change the world for the better and watch others do it from the wings? Probably not. Her quest for a better deal for the poor had given her a reason to carry on at a time when she had been convinced her life was over. It had shaped her. Changed her. Made her stronger. At least on her own she would still have her self-respect.
‘Then I shall leave tonight, Your Grace.’ The rebellious part of her executed a mock bow before she removed herself to the opposite seat again. ‘And gladly so.’ The pompous Duke, his fine house and his fine kisses could all go to hell.
* * *
The rest of the journey seemed interminable as they both sat in outraged brittle silence. To make matters worse, their arrival at Aveley House caused quite a stir. Bennett would not have been surprised if every servant had stood in wide-eyed shock at the sight of him caked in blood and Miss Mansfield’s hair resembling a giant bird’s nest, while the rest of her was bedecked in rags.
His mother immediately rushed towards him, ready to fuss. ‘Oh, good gracious! Bennett! You are injured.’ She began directing maids to fetch witch hazel and salve. Uncle George wisely stepped back. At least one person knew that he was in no mood to be trifled with.
Aunt Augusta regarded both of them very carefully before speaking to Miss Mansfield. ‘Amelia, dear, you look an absolute fright. Let us get you upstairs to repair the damage. Lovett—send up a tray of tea, if you please, and perhaps a tot of brandy would not go amiss.’
As they left, Bennett had the distinct impression that his aunt was not quite as surprised by the state of his companion as everyone else was. There were clearly words that needed to be said there, but not yet. His first port of call was not tea, nor salve. It was Lovett.
‘My study. Now!’ Bennett strode away without a backwards glance, forcing the butler to scurry after him.
‘But, Bennett,’ his mother wailed to his retreating back. ‘You are injured!’
‘Not that injured, my dear.’ Uncle George stepped into the breach. ‘Aside from the blood, he appears to be very hale and hearty. And angry. Give him a little time to calm down and then I am sure he will happily allow you to attend him.’
Too furious to be contained by a chair, Bennett began to pace the floor of his study while his butler entered calml
y and closed the door. Only then did he allow the tirade to begin.
‘Apparently, you have been complicit in allowing Miss Mansfield to visit Seven Dials unattended.’
‘Not unattended, Your Grace. The first time she went, I followed her myself. After that she was always accompanied by Terence.’
‘But you still allowed her the freedom to go! She thought she was alone and her visits to that place went unchallenged.’
Lovett stood ramrod-straight and sighed. ‘I was not aware that Miss Mansfield was a prisoner, Your Grace. Had I known, I would have chained her to a banister.’
Sometimes the man’s impertinence was grating. ‘You know full well what I mean, Lovett. If you knew that she was off to such an unsavoury and insalubrious place, you should have informed me.’
‘I do not make a general rule to follow all of the staff during their time off, nor do I ever recall a time when I was required to appraise you of their whereabouts. And, unless Miss Mansfield’s position in this house has changed of late, I had no reason to treat her as anything other than your aunt’s companion. I did, however, ensure that she was always accompanied. Terence was relieved of all other duties and expressly instructed to keep a close eye on her because I had warned her that you would not be impressed by her choice of destination. But I knew full well that those visits were likely to become a regular occurrence the moment I saw her working in the soup kitchen. She did seem very at home there. Fortunately, after I introduced her to the servants’ back staircase, she was surprisingly consistent in her choice of escape route. Terence has become quite familiar with the area now. Up until today, there has been nothing untoward to worry Your Grace about. I also knew that she would become very difficult if she had any hint of the fact that she was being followed. Miss Mansfield gets that glint in her eye.’ Lovett shuddered as he said these final words.
‘That glint?’
‘Indeed, Your Grace. Miss Mansfield reminds me a great deal of my wife. Mrs Lovett, God bless her, has a similar glint from time to time. Fourteen years of marriage have taught me to be very wary of it, as its arrival usually does not bode well.’
Chapter Fourteen
The roles and responsibilities of a husband and wife are vastly different, and necessarily so...
Bennett was rapidly losing patience. ‘Spit it out, man! I have no blasted idea what you are talking about.’
‘That does not surprise me, Your Grace. As a bachelor, you have been spared the awful trials of attempting to understand a woman’s mind. Believe me, there is no arguing with them when they believe that they are in the right, or that the path they have chosen is the only route to travel. That is when they get that glint. I have learned, through bitter experience, when that glint arrives, no matter how wrong the woman might be, reason will not sway her. Nor will lordly commands. The best course of action is to take a step back and allow them to do what they are set on doing—but to be prepared to step in and salvage the situation should the need arise. Hence, when Miss Mansfield forcefully informed me that she had no intention of heeding my warnings, I found another way to keep her safe. A compromise, of sorts, although it was one she was not aware of. The very worst thing you could do to a young woman like Miss Mansfield is to forbid her from doing something.’
‘Nonsense.’ Bennett had heard enough of this idiocy. ‘That is just cowardice, Lovett. I told Miss Mansfield that she was forbidden to visit Seven Dials again or she could pack her bags and leave.’
‘And how did she take that, Your Grace?’
‘Despite her claims to the contrary, I fully expect her to see the logic of that decision once she has calmed down. You will see, Lovett. Sometimes all that is needed with a woman is a firm hand.’
His aunt chose that moment to barge through the door without knocking, wearing a face like thunder. ‘What on earth have you done to poor Miss Mansfield, Bennett? She has stated her intention to leave this house immediately.’
Bennett stifled a groan. ‘I merely informed her of the fact that she is not to visit Seven Dials again.’ Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lovett smirking. ‘I am sure that she is just being a little rebellious.’
Aunt Augusta glared at him as if he were mad. ‘She is already packing her bags, Bennett.’ Then she marched towards him and began to jab her finger into his chest. Clearly it was a day for females to jab him in the ribs. ‘You will fix this, Bennett. Have you any idea how many years it has taken me to find a half-decent companion who does not bore me to tears? I am immensely fond of the gal. She told me about your heavy-handed behaviour towards her in the carriage. How dare you threaten to dismiss a member of my staff? I have my own household, Bennett, which I pay for with my own money. You do not support me and you never have. It is not your place to decide who is and who is not a suitable companion for me. You only have to suffer my company for one month every year; surely you can tolerate Amelia for such a short period of time?’
‘Heavy-handed!’ Could his aunt not see the state of his nose? ‘I will have you know that, had it not been for my intervention, your dear Miss Mansfield would likely have come out much worse at the hands of those ruffians. And are you aware that poor Miss Mansfield is consorting with Radicals?’
His aunt flapped her hand at him dismissively. ‘The gal has a great sense of civic responsibility, that is all, and a heart of gold. I think that it is admirable that she feeds all those poor wretches soup.’
‘You would not say that if you had seen Seven Dials. That place is a den of iniquity. Filled with thieves and layabouts. It is no place for a young lady.’
Again, Aunt Augusta appeared nonplussed. ‘Most normal young ladies, yes. But Amelia is made of much sterner stuff than most.’
‘Have you not seen her? She is barely five feet tall and looks as though a gust of wind would blow her over.’ But she had bravely stood in front of him, ready to fight beside him. And she had jumped on that bruiser’s back and, in doing so, stopped him from receiving a sound beating from two men simultaneously. ‘It is ridiculous that she thinks that she would be safe in a place like that alone.’
‘For pity’s sake, Bennett, stop being so high and mighty. Amelia lived in Seven Dials for three years all alone and managed well enough.’
‘What?’ That did not bear thinking about. Petite, lovely Miss Mansfield came from that slum? ‘She told me that she lived in Cheapside.’ And that place was bad enough.
‘She did. For a while. Amelia has lived in many different parts of London.’ His aunt’s face suddenly became closed and Bennett realised that the wily old bird knew a great deal more than she was prepared to let on. ‘Make it right, Bennett. I shall never forgive you if Miss Mansfield leaves. Try to see things from her perspective.’ Then she sailed out of his study imperiously.
Perspective.
What was it with women and that blasted word? First Miss Mansfield, now Aunt Augusta. As if his own perspective on the world was somehow incorrect. As if he were the one in the wrong because his own view of the world was skewed. Well, he wasn’t going to apologise.
‘Shall I send for Miss Mansfield, Your Grace?’ Lovett was still standing staring at him, his face completely devoid of any emotion, but his eyes were blatantly laughing.
‘No,’ he replied petulantly and then huffed in defeat. ‘Kindly send word to Miss Mansfield that I should like to talk to her after dinner.’ Perhaps his tone had been a little dictatorial. And judgemental. It was not as if he had known that she had lived there. Had he known, he might not have been so forceful. ‘Tell her that I would like to...’ Wring her lovely neck. Kiss that smart mouth of hers to silence her until she saw things his way. Talk to her about the stars and forget that he was a duke for a little while. ‘Tell her that I would like to discuss a compromise.’
The butler scurried off, leaving Bennett alone with his thoughts. If he was brutally honest with himself, his ang
er was born more out of fear for what might have happened than at her blatant disregard for his wishes. Those three men had meant her harm—of that he was sure—and the thought of her being at the mercy of such men made him feel sick. When that man had grabbed her, Bennett had wanted to cause the blighter pain. Hell, he had wanted to kill the bounder who had thrown her to the floor. He still did. And now he knew that she might well have had to deal with such things repeatedly, and all alone, did not even bear thinking about. It was inconceivable to think that she had survived such a trial. And how had she come to live in Seven Dials in the first place? Was there no family left to have taken her in?
His peace was quickly interrupted by his mother, who was hanging on the arm of Uncle George. His uncle gave him a look that spoke volumes. Your mother is worried. Let her fuss. So Bennett subjected himself to being dabbed with witch hazel and endured his mother’s flapping with gritted teeth while he recounted a toned-down version of the events that had led to his injuries. Only then could he escape the confines of his study to change his clothes and organise his thoughts.
He did not want her to leave.
Why that was, Bennett was not prepared to consider, but as his anger subsided he acknowledged that he had not handled the aftermath of the incident as effectively as he could have. He had not allowed her to state her case and he hadn’t listened. He would try to see things from her perspective—even though he was perfectly certain that he had a very good perspective of things to begin with. He was a forward-thinking politician who was known for his sympathetic stance towards the poor. Hell, he had become known for being more forward-thinking than his own father, who had not cared one whit about the poor, so he deserved some credit. Once she had her say, Miss Mansfield would then have to listen to his side of things, when hopefully he could reassure her that she did not need to continue to serve soup in that hellhole because he, and other fine men in Parliament, had things well in hand.
DISCERNING GENTLEMAN'S GUIDE, THE Page 12