by Tessa Candle
“Where am I?” came a sleepy voice behind her.
Tilly’s heart leapt with joy and she turned to see Lydia awake and smiling. “You are awake!”
“Well, Tilly. It is very good to see you. However, it seems that whenever I wake up in a strange place, you appear before me.” She grinned with mischief. “I suppose I should be thankful Mr. Rutherford is not here with you.”
Tilly embraced Lydia gently. “Oh, he is here. But I made him wait in the parlour. There was not really any place in the chamber for us to do indecent things while you slept, you see.”
“Same old Tilly. True it is good to see you.”
Tilly's face turned serious. “The doctor will arrive soon to examine you. How are you feeling?”
“Very refreshed, to tell the truth. I do not believe I have slept this well in a long time. This bed is terribly comfortable.”
“So, you do not feel altered? And you remember everything?”
Lydia's face clouded. “Yes. Yes, I remember. But the joy of seeing you drove it from my mind.” She shook her head. “Delacroix is back.”
“I know. I heard. I called at Aldley House to tell you, but you had already left.”
Lydia looked troubled. “Thomas will be so cross if he finds out I was down at the store.” Then her face lit up suddenly. “It is doing so very well, Tilly, and business just keeps growing.”
Tilly smiled at her friend's excitement. She had just been accosted by a horrid man and had taken a bad fall trying to escape, but she was all a dither about her business. “I am very glad to hear it. And I shan't tell Lord Aldley you were down at the shop, but we probably do need to tell him about Delacroix's affront.”
Lydia scowled. “He walks sort of half bent over now, you know. Delacroix, I mean. And he is very gaunt. I have never seen anyone so altered in such a short time. He looks older too. He would be positively Gothic, if he were not so pathetic. I was not running from him, you know. The little worm was trying to blackmail me. Imagine. He claimed the child I was carrying was probably his. I told him that such a belief betokened a rather poor grasp of the subject matter involved.”
Tilly laughed. “This was a kinder reply than he deserved.”
Lydia scoffed. “And then the sad little beast suggested that Thomas himself was the bastard child of Lady Aldley and Beauchamps. He called our babe a bastardly gullion. I was about to plant him a facer, but then I saw he had that henchman with him. The one who pulled me off my horse in the park.”
“Ah. Really.” Tilly tried to keep her face neutral.
“Indeed. I should like to drag them both before a magistrate. But anyway, the henchman is a great, hulking beast, and I ran when I saw him. Then I fainted, which is humiliating. It happens now and again if I exert myself, or my nerves are too agitated.” She rubbed her belly and grinned. “I suppose the little one did not much care for being jounced around.”
“Probably not.” Tilly smiled at Lydia's maternal happiness. “Your husband begged me to persuade you to enter your confinement. I think it may be time, my dear friend. Only think what might have happened to the baby.”
Lydia sighed. “Yes, yes. Everyone is so terribly prudent. But I had already decided to do so, before all this happened. True, my back pains me all of the time now. And it is almost impossible to conceal, even with a cape and an empire waist. I just wanted to check on the store once more before I was incarcerated.”
“I am glad to hear you shall be an obedient little inmate. And you know I shall come visit you in gaol.”
“You are very good. But I should expect nothing less from the woman who marries compromised débutantes off to rich relatives and redeems criminals to give them work.”
Tilly blanched. Her friend did not know the half of it. Lydia knew that Tilly was trying to help Wheeler, who had once done Lydia a very bad turn while working for Lydia's rival. But Lydia did not know Wheeler was working for Tilly. And Tilly could not tell her friend about Crump yet. Not when Lydia might be so delicate. It could wait until the doctor pronounced her well, and she had been returned home.
Tilly forced a bright smile. “Perhaps I should make a professional service of it and hang out a shingle next to your shop. Miss Ravelsham's Bleach, Starch and Press—Reputation Cleaners.”
“Too long. How about Five-a-penny Faradiddles and Frauds?”
Tilly tapped her lips pensively. “I shall allow that you have a natural talent for jingles and shingles. But as usual, you do not charge enough.”
Chapter 15
Rutherford sat in the neat, warm parlour of the Belle Hire and pretended to read a paper. He surreptitiously eyed Crump, who stood near the fire. It seemed he would not be seated, but always stood at attention, and it irked Rutherford.
On the other hand, it would have vexed him doubly so, if the man had put on airs and seated himself, as though he were a gentleman and not some cheaply hired reprobate servant. Rutherford supposed the principal problem was that he detested the sight of the yahoo.
It was also possible that he was just cross as two sticks. He might not hate the man so, if Tilly had not betrayed them all by taking him into her employ. What sort of person was she? Did Rutherford know her at all? And yet he was utterly fascinated by her. Her shady dealings, though he could not approve of them in any official way, made him long for her even more.
His shoulder was aching. He could no longer deny that the pain was an artefact of some other affliction—love for Tilly or for this blasted drug.
Even as he had the thought, his hand felt the pocket where the loathsome bottle was hidden, its evil vapours churning inside, whispering sweet lies to him. He had to best this illness.
And he had decided that he would take Tilly up on her offer. As much as it pained him to be so pedestrian and weak, she had probably seen many such cases. Surely she knew the secret to curing him. It was also possible that being in a weakened state was the way to Tilly's heart.
He rubbed his shoulder and smiled faintly, not sure whether to mock this mad hope, or to indulge it.
Tilly entered the room.
Rutherford stood. “How is she?”
Tilly smiled and his heart fluttered. God help him. They seated themselves close beside each other on a low-backed couch, as Tilly reported, “I believe she will be well. It seems she only fainted because she was exerting herself—at least that is how she has it. But I have been talking with her, and she seems herself.”
“Did she fall? Did she hit her head?”
“I saw no injury to her head. She fainted while running away—unfortunately because she saw Crump and believed him to be working with Delacroix.”
Rutherford's face twisted. “Her surmise was not unreasonable. You do not know where his allegiance lies either.”
“Oh, but I do.” She smiled and patted his hand. “But it is sweet of you to worry so. On the other hand, I should ask Crump to clear out before she sees him. She does not need further agitation.”
Rutherford's frustrated sigh was his only answer.
“The doctor is examining her now,” Tilly continued. “I have ordered a chair to bring her downstairs and out to the carriage. Assuming the doctor permits it, we should return her to Aldley House as soon as may be.”
Rutherford winced to think of his friend's mental state. “Yes, Aldley must be beside himself. I am sure she is never out without him this late.”
“I have already sent him word that she is well and should be home shortly. But I doubt his anxiety will be quelled until she is safely at his side.”
Rutherford smiled, “And then, if I know him at all, he shall never leave her unattended again, until the child comes, and for some time after.”
“It speaks well of him that he cares for her so dearly.” Tilly turned away quickly, but Rutherford had seen the mist in her eyes.
He reached out his hand, and tipped Tilly's chin back to face him. Her periwinkle blue eyes shone so full of her heart. He knew he could never give up on her. Not even if she had this
other, unseemly side.
For what else had he been looking for but a woman with whom he would never be bored? He could feel his body responding to her, to that look of heart-filled longing that she could not conceal.
He leaned his head to her ear and whispered, “Yes, it does speak well of him. His heart is so true, and it is truly hers. No matter what great risks she takes with her own happiness, with the happiness of both of them, he will never stop loving her more than he loves his own life.”
Chapter 16
Tilly felt the sudden need to flee from the Belle Hire, from the magnetic love of Rutherford, from the body and the heart and sweet mouth that drew her in and weakened her resolve to do what she must do.
He was so close to her, whispering in her ear. It was all she could do not to drag him upstairs to one of the rooms. She stood suddenly, aware that she was panting.
She could see that he was sweating and pale, still craving laudanum. And yet his eyes fixed on her, and his penetrating stare was victorious.
“Whatever is the matter, Tilly?” He smiled rakishly. “Are you unwell?”
“I am well enough.” She returned his gaze and lifted her chin. “Only I must go give Crump instructions and get the servants to take the chair up for Lydia.”
“Indeed.” Rutherford played his finger across his beautiful lips, making Tilly want to kiss them. “We should not risk her trying to come down on her own.”
“No.” Tilly tried to control her breathing. She left the room to attend to the chair and to save her own sanity.
They arrived at the Aldley home shortly after nine o'clock and had their cargo carefully unloaded into the parlour.
“Am I permitted to stand now?” Lydia was petulant. “Or must I suffer myself to be carried around like some Chinese empress for the rest of my life?” She did not wait for a reply and stood.
Lord Aldley forgot that anyone was there and rushed to embrace his wife. “Darling! I have been so worried. Thank God you are home. Are you all right?”
“I am very well, thank you. A little irritated that Mr. Delacroix is back in town.”
Aldley paled. “Yes. Wait—did he approach you? I will kill him!”
“Calm yourself.” Lydia walked over to the fire to warm her hands. “I would prefer my child's father not to be tried for murder. Besides, it seems unlikely you would even recognize him if you saw him. He is so altered. He has become a foetid little hunchback from a Gothic novel.”
“I am glad you are well, but I cannot stand by and allow a common criminal to accost my wife—particularly while she is carrying our babe. Has this man not one grain of decency?” Lord Aldley took up the fire poker and assaulted the log in the fireplace.
“In fact, I believe it was our child that interested him.” Lydia stepped back from the fierce blaze and ensconced herself on her favourite chaise longue. “He seems to think he might extract money from us by threatening to reveal the paternity not only of the child, but of you, if you can imagine.”
There was a deadly gleam in Aldley's eye. “He did not dare suggest...”
Tilly did not scruple but to interrupt glibly. “Audacity is a Delacroix trait, it would seem.”
“Oh, he dared,” continued Lydia. “The little lump of pig dung called our child a bastardly gullion.”
Aldley's fists clenched. “He dares insult my child and accost my wife. He shall not get away with this.”
“I was about to draw his cork,” she smiled like she would have greatly enjoyed punching the villain, “but then his henchman chased me off.”
Rutherford gave Tilly a pointed look. Lydia was lying down. Tilly supposed it was as good a time as any. She cleared her throat. “Yes, well about that.”
Everyone turned to look at her. Tilly swallowed. “You see, Mr. Crump no longer works for Delacroix. He has reformed his ways and now works for me, guarding my warehouses and such.”
Lydia's eyes narrowed and her lips flattened. She looked at Tilly like a cat doused with water.
“And how, pray tell,” Aldley's voice was cold and only kept from sounding menacing by an obvious exertion of will, “did Mr. Crump come to accost my wife?”
“He did not accost her.” Tilly raised a palm, as though the gesture might calm the earl. “After I called on your lordship, and discovered that Lydia was out, I asked Mr. Crump to watch over her, from a distance. When he saw Delacroix approach her, he went after him. Only Lydia misunderstood Crump's intentions and ran away. Which is when she fainted.”
“You have done it again,” accused Lydia. “You have put your blasted redemption schemes ahead of the happiness and wellbeing of your friends.”
“I did not think you would ever find out.” Tilly looked desperately at her friend. “True, Mr. Crump genuinely has changed, and he is very sorry for his role in Delacroix's attempt at abducting you. And I was thinking of your safety, more than your happiness. It was thoughtless of me to put him on the task of guarding you. Thoughtless, and this is all my fault, I will warrant you. But I only did it because Mr. Crump is very good at guarding and knows what Delacroix looks like. When I heard Delacroix was in town, I was so worried for you.”
Lydia did not relent, but shook her head and stared at Tilly.
Tilly turned to Aldley. “Lord Aldley, will you not take my part?” She was desperate. “You know I was concerned, and so were you, my lord.”
The earl did not look very inclined to support her. “If you knew where Lydia was, why did you not simply tell me, so I could protect her, instead of sending some yahoo?”
She looked from Aldley to Lydia, whose expression was tense. Tilly would not reveal to Lord Aldley that Lydia had been down to her shop. Tilly could not betray her friend's confidence, even to defend herself in this ridiculous situation. “It did not occur to me where she might be until after I left you, my lord.”
Lydia's face relaxed. She released a breath she had been holding. “Very well, Tilly. There is no harm done. In fact,” she wriggled into the blanket behind her on the chaise longue, “I had a rather good time of it. I have always wanted to see your brothel.”
Tilly blanched. This situation was not going well. She decided to play innocent, for as long as that lasted. “Whatever can you mean?” But if Lydia knew about her brothel, why in God's name did she not keep her mouth shut about it in front of Aldley? It was as though she were intentionally setting the cat among the pigeons.
“I mean the house of ill repute in which I convalesced after my faint.” Lydia was beaming. “I am only disappointed that I did not get to see a bird of paradise.”
Rutherford shook with silent laughter. Tilly could kick him, the traitor.
A look of horror crept into Aldley's face. “Do I rightly understand what I am hearing, Miss Ravelsham? Surely I do not, for it sounds as though you brought my wife, the countess, into a common bawdy house.”
Tilly lifted her chin with wounded pride. “It is not a common bawdy house. It is quite uncommon, I assure you.” Her voice trailed off. “And only ever so slightly bawdy.”
“Well, there you are then.” Lydia had such a gleeful look of enjoyment on her face that Tilly wished to steal the pillow upon which the countess smugly rested and beat her about the head with it.
Lydia turned to her husband, whose features were contorted with the effort of suppressing his rage. “I am famished, thank you for asking, darling. Will you have a servant bring me some biscuits and a tisane.” Then she addressed Tilly with a smirk, “Would you like to join me, Tilly?”
She was still miffed with Lydia's so casually revealing her secrets. On the other hand, biscuits. Tilly had not had time for so much as one bonbon down at the Belle Hire. “Yes, thank you, Lydia. That would be just the thing.”
Chapter 17
When Tilly went to call upon her brother, she was bone-weary. Her day had not been much longer than usual, for she was accustomed to keeping herself occupied. It was not even all the trying to protect secrets, and rescuing, and dealing, at every turn,
with more people in need of help.
The thing that really drained her was having her friends turn on her in accusation, when Tilly's secrets were only exposed in the first place because her need to help Lydia quickly had made her incautious. When they discovered her unusual enterprises, they did not seek to understand. They were not grateful for the risks she had taken to aid them, but instead, leapt to judge her.
She supposed Lydia might be forgiven for disapproving of Crump, as she was still frightened of him. He had assaulted her once, though not with an intention of hurting her, just with a sort of desperate indifference as to what Delacroix might plan to do to her.
He had acted very wrongly, and Crump knew it. He was, unlike Delacroix, regretful. And like so many others Tilly had encountered, his misconduct was driven by desperate circumstances.
Yes, Lydia might be pardoned for her fear and mistrust, particularly as she did not seem to disapprove of being placed in a brothel to recover. This showed that her mind was more open than most. In fact she had seemed rather scintillated. But Aldley's face had been a study in angry disapproval.
She understood he was worried about Lydia, especially now that Delacroix was creeping about the city, following and harassing his wife. But Tilly could not accept his immediately assuming an air of superiority, as if his wife would catch some moral disease by being in such a place, and completely ignoring the fact that her removal there had been dictated by necessity.
Had he thanked Tilly for saving his wife and unborn child from harm, for trying to protect them? No, he had not. He had looked down on Tilly, and had not even asked where his wife had been when she was accosted, that she might be most expediently removed to a brothel.
In retrospect, that was probably why Lydia had let the cat out of the bag about the Belle Hire. She was trying to distract her husband from asking any questions about her own conduct.
It was a shameless betrayal. Lydia should not have promised Aldley to stay away from her little shop, unless it was a promise she would keep. And now Lydia's need to hide this bit of trivial nonsense from her husband had also become Tilly's problem.