by Dilly Court
Essie stared at him in surprise. ‘Does that mean you’re going away soon, Falco?’
He nodded. ‘An idle ship costs money, and Jack has found us a cargo.’
‘When do you plan to sail?’
‘At the turn of the tide.’
‘But what does Lady Alice say to that?’
‘Why would she care?’ Falco said casually. ‘I kept her amused for a while, but the lady bores easily.’
‘Just a minute, cully.’ Jacob snatched a slice of toast from the rack and began mopping his plate. ‘You ain’t given me time to consider, nor told me anything about your vessel.’
‘Finish your breakfast and we’ll take a cab to Wapping where my ship is moored. You may look her over and meet the rest of the crew. No one is forcing you to do anything against your will.’
‘Just think about it, Pa,’ Essie said gently. ‘You would be doing what you love most.’
George sat back in his chair. ‘I’d be tempted to go myself if I hadn’t gone into business with Jack. You could do worse, Pa.’
‘But I got no gear to take with me,’ Jacob protested. ‘I can’t go to sea in a tweed suit.’
‘There’s a ship’s chandlers near the office, I saw it yesterday.’ Essie patted his arm, smiling. ‘I’ll come with you and see that you’re kitted out, Pa.’
Falco wagged a finger at her. ‘Don’t forget your appointment with Lady Alice.’
‘This is far more important than fine clothes,’ Essie said firmly. ‘I’ll send the footman with a message to ask her to make it another day.’
‘She won’t like that, Essie.’
‘I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.’ Essie turned to the maid. ‘Send Thomas to me. I have a message for him to take to Hill Street.’
Essie waited in the office with Jack while George rowed his father and Falco out to the Santa Gabriella at her moorings.
‘This could be the answer,’ Essie said, gazing out of the window. The azure sky transformed the murky water to steel blue and the wharfs and docks were bathed in sunlight.
Jack closed the ledger he had been studying. ‘They’ll be gone for some time – why don’t we take the short walk to my house? My housekeeper was busy baking jam tarts when I left this morning and she’s an excellent cook.’
Essie hesitated. ‘I need to be here when Pa returns.’
Jack stood up, holding out his hand. ‘We can see him from the window of my front parlour. Come, Essie. I’d like to show you my home.’
The word ‘home’ sent a shiver down her spine. It seemed a long time since she could really call somewhere home. The house in Curzon Street was well appointed and luxurious but it did not belong to her, and someone else had chosen the contents, which might be elegant and fashionable, but were not entirely to her taste. She laid her hand on Jack’s arm.
‘Thank you. I’d like that very much.’
Jack had not exaggerated. It was a short walk to his house, which overlooked the Upper Pool. It was set amongst a jumble of buildings that appeared to have been thrown together in a random fashion, none of them seeming to follow any particular architectural style. There were wooden structures teetering on stilts above the Thames mud, and sturdier brick buildings plastered with advertisements for the traders who had occupied them at one time or another. A ship’s chandler, a candle maker, a marine architect and a boat builder lived cheek by jowl with a sail maker and an undertaker.
Jack took Essie’s hand to help her up the steep wooden steps to the entrance of one of the more permanent-looking dwellings. It was certainly the largest and most imposing of all the houses in the row, with bow windows and a balcony on the top floor, which would undoubtedly be a wonderful vantage point.
‘What a fascinating house,’ Essie breathed, entranced by the sheer oddity of the building and its closeness to the river she loved.
‘I thought you’d like it,’ Jack said proudly. ‘It’s known as the Old Captain’s House because it was built by a retired seafarer who couldn’t bear to be more than a few yards away from the water. He made his fortune importing timber from the Baltic and he spent his declining years here.’ Jack opened the door and ushered her inside.
The rich aroma of baking wrapped itself around her like a warm blanket, as if the house itself were welcoming her. The walls of the oak-panelled hallway were covered with paintings depicting the river in all its moods. There were sketches of every type of craft from the humble lighter to the sturdy Thames barges, their dark tan sails in contrast to the billowing white canvas of stately tea clippers. Essie could have spent all day admiring the collection, but Jack took her bonnet and shawl and hung them on a set of wall pegs amongst reefer jackets, oilskins and a variety of head gear. It was all very informal and homely.
‘I allowed the butler and the housemaids to have the day off,’ Jack said solemnly.
Essie was about to respond when she realised that he was teasing her, and the twinkle in his dark eyes was irresistible.
‘I’m sure they appreciate your generosity,’ she said, chuckling. ‘To be perfectly honest I find it much more comfortable this way.’
‘You don’t like being waited on hand and foot?’
‘In some ways I do, of course, but sometimes I long for the freedom of doing things for myself. Does that make sense?’
‘Perfectly. I’m sure I’d feel the same.’ Jack showed her into the front parlour, which had a comfortable, lived-in look, with an eclectic mix of furnishings.
The view from the bow window took Essie’s breath away and she clapped her hands in delight. ‘This is wonderful. I could sit here all day and watch the ships.’
‘It’s tempting, I must admit, and I can understand why the old sea captain wanted to end his days here. Take a seat, Essie, and I’ll let Mrs Cooper know we’re here. Would you prefer tea or coffee?’
‘A cup of tea would be lovely,’ Essie said, smiling. ‘This is such a cosy room, Jack. No wonder you love this old house.’
‘I do. It’s not to everyone’s taste and it’s not a patch on your mansion in Curzon Street, but it suits me well enough.’
He left before she had a chance to protest, and she walked slowly round the room, taking in each homely detail with a feeling of intense pleasure. The floor was covered in a patchwork of oriental and Middle Eastern rugs, some of them old and faded, while others still retained their bright hues. The wooden mantelshelf was crowded with small objects that Jack or his father must have collected on their travels. A brass carriage clock was wedged between a china spill jar and a carved wooden elephant with a howdah on its back. Exotic shells and tiny fragments of coral nestled together like a memory of a sea voyage to far-off lands, and a telescope lay on a table next to a set of tide tables. The armchair by the fireplace had faded upholstery and threadbare patches, but Essie could imagine Jack seated there at night, sipping a brandy or a mug of cocoa, with a fire blazing up the chimney and his feet resting on the brass fender. She turned away, angry with herself for allowing her imagination to run away with her. This was Jack’s private world and she was merely a visitor.
She went to sit on the window seat where she had a clear view of the wharfs and the busy traffic on the river, including the Santa Gabriella at her moorings. She could only hope that Falco managed to persuade her father to consider his offer. As part of the crew Pa would have little or no opportunity to drink himself insensible, and he would be among his own kind. Instinctively, she crossed her fingers, turning with a start at the sound of the door opening.
Jack entered carrying a tray of tea, followed by a small woman, dressed in black bombazine with her grey hair partially concealed by a spotless white mobcap. She placed a plate of tarts on the table, pushing the tide tables to one side.
‘This is Mrs Cooper, Essie. She is my prop and mainstay. I don’t know what I’d do without her, and she is a wonderful cook, as you’ll find out when you sample one of her strawberry jam tarts.’
Essie rose to her feet. ‘How do you do
, Mrs Cooper? I’m very pleased to meet you.’
Mrs Cooper bobbed a curtsey. ‘Likewise, miss. Mr Jack has talked about nothing else since he first met you, and now I see you I can understand why.’
Essie felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and she realised that she was blushing like a schoolgirl, which was ridiculous. Jack was George’s friend and she barely knew him. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,’ she said hastily.
‘Thank you, Mrs Cooper.’ Jack held the door open. ‘I think I smell something burning.’
‘Oh, heavens, that will be the steak and kidney pie for supper.’ Mrs Cooper hurried from the room, and Jack closed the door.
‘She’s a good sort, given to exaggerating at times. Of course I told her about you. She’s been with my family since I was a boy, in fact she kept house for my father, myself and my two sisters after our mother died. We all love Mrs Cooper.’
‘Your sisters?’ Essie eyed him curiously. ‘They don’t live here now?’
‘Lord, no. Cecelia and Maggie are both married with children of their own. I see them as often as I can.’ Jack pulled up a chair. ‘Shall I pour?’
‘Please do.’ Essie settled back on the window seat. ‘Mrs Cooper is obviously very fond of you, and I think that’s lovely. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to servants watching my every move, and rushing to tie up my boot laces, if you know what I mean.’
Jack filled a cup with tea and placed it on the windowsill within her reach. ‘I do, as it happens, although most people would think it the height of luxury. Can I tempt you to a jam tart?’
‘Thank you.’ Essie took a bite, realising that he was eagerly awaiting her verdict. She smiled. ‘Delicious. I’ve never tasted better. You’re a lucky man, Jack. You have this interesting old house and a servant who is also a friend. I think that’s wonderful.’
‘Some people think the house is creepy – haunted by the old captain, but if he’s a ghost, he’s a friendly one.’
‘I’d love to see the rest of it,’ Essie said enthusiastically. ‘If the captain truly loved this house it must be a happy ghost who haunts the place.’
‘That’s what I think, too. When you’re ready I’ll show you round – that’s if you don’t mind the chaos of a bachelor’s way of life?’
‘To tell you the truth I find having everything just so is a little daunting. I think I was happier living in the miner’s shack in Ballarat, where life was simple. Lady Alice is trying to introduce me to polite society, but I’m not sure I fit in.’
‘But you get on well with Lady Alice and her cousins. George told me something of your travels.’
‘Yes, I’m very fond of Alice.’ Essie changed the subject. Her relationship with Raven, like her time in Ballarat, was in the past and she was desperate to move on. ‘Enough about me, Jack. I’d really like to have the conducted tour before the others return from the ship.’
‘Of course.’ Suddenly formal, Jack rose to his feet. ‘I hope you won’t be disappointed now that I’ve built up your expectations.’
The moment of embarrassment passed as quickly as it had occurred. Jack showed Essie the small dining room, and the larger parlour, which he explained was used very little now that he lived alone. There were various other smaller rooms and then there was the kitchen, which he said was the heart of the house. Mrs Cooper was flushed and embarrassed, apologising profusely because she had not had time to sweep the floor and clear away the cooking utensils. Essie said she was sorry for the intrusion and complimented her on the lightness of her pastry, and the delicious jam she had used for the tarts.
‘Homemade,’ Mrs Cooper said proudly. ‘My sister lives in Shoreditch and she has a garden where she grows all manner of fruit and vegetables.’ She shook her finger at Jack. ‘You should know better than to burst into my kitchen, catching me unawares. I’m sure Miss Esther would like to see the rest of the house.’
‘I hope we didn’t upset her too much,’ Essie said as they left the kitchen and climbed the narrow staircase to the first floor.
‘Not at all. You’ve made a hit with Mrs Cooper. She called you “Miss Esther” – that’s a sure sign. It would have been “Miss Chapman” had she not approved of you.’ He opened a door on the first floor. ‘This is my room. It’s directly above the parlour and, as you see, has a similar bow window, with an even better view.’ He glanced round the room and apologised for the untidiness, edging an odd shoe under the bed with the toe of his boot, but to Essie the room had a charming lived-in look, and she said as much. There was a small box room, filled with trunks and baggage of all descriptions, and another bedroom at the back of the house. The second floor was a similar layout and Mrs Cooper occupied the whole of the third floor. Above that were two small attics beneath the roof, and the dormer window of the largest room opened onto the balcony. They stepped outside at Essie’s request, and stood side by side in the small space. She was instantly aware of the warmth radiating from his body and a masculine scent that was strangely exciting.
‘How lovely to be high above the rest of the world,’ she said softly. ‘I feel like a bird.’
‘That’s why I love it up here. Sometimes I come up at night and look out across the river at the twinkling lights and the stars in the heavens.’ He turned to give her a searching look. ‘You’re shivering and yet the sun is at its height.’
‘Someone must have walked over my grave,’ she said, smiling. But it was a shiver of anticipation that had made her spine tingle – she was far from cold.
‘Perhaps we’d better go inside. Too much sun is as bad as feeling the ice-cold blast of winter.’
Essie was reluctant to leave, but she could see the small boat setting off from the Santa Gabriella. ‘You’re right, but I could spend all day here.’
Jack laughed and ushered her back to the relative coolness of the attic. ‘You are a woman after my own heart, Essie.’
She shot him a sideways glance and saw that he was serious. ‘It would seem so, Jack.’
For a long moment they stood there, inches apart and yet connected in a way that Essie could not quite understand. She had only recently become acquainted with Jack Manning and yet she felt as though she had known him all her life. A sudden gust of air fragrant with the smell of a good cigar wafted through the room.
‘I think you must have a visitor, Jack.’
His serious expression melted into a warm smile. ‘It’s just Captain Oakes. It’s his way of welcoming you to his home, Essie.’
‘Thank you, Captain. I want you to know that I love your house. I can feel you must have been very happy here.’
The scent of tobacco faded away, leaving the air musty and still.
‘I think the captain likes you, Essie,’ Jack said, smiling. ‘He’s a benign old gentleman, but if he takes a dislike to someone he’s been known to rush through the house slamming doors as a sign of his disapproval.’
Essie glanced round the empty attic, half expecting to see an apparition shimmering in the shadows, but there was nothing other than a few cobwebs. ‘I’m not scared, which surprises me.’
‘We’d best get back to the office or George will be there before us.’ Jack held out his hand.
‘Yes, of course. I almost forgot the reason for our visit today.’ Essie ignored the gesture. If she allowed him to take her by the hand once more she feared the consequences. Her emotions were spiralling dangerously out of control. Maybe it was the influence of the romantic old house, but she was in danger of compromising her good name simply by being alone with an unmarried man. George would not approve and neither would Alice. ‘You’re quite right,’ she said hastily. ‘We must go at once, but if Pa refuses Falco’s offer I don’t know what I’ll do.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Alice was in the drawing room at Curzon Street, seated on the sofa and bristling with anger, which she did not bother to conceal. ‘I suppose you thought a jaunt to Wapping was more important than our engagement this morning, Essie.’
‘
I’m sorry, but in fact it was.’
‘Then I’d better leave now before I say something I’ll regret.’ Alice rose to her feet, holding herself stiffly erect.
‘Wait, please.’ Essie slipped off her cloak and handed it to the maidservant, who was, as always, hovering in the background. ‘It was an emergency. Please sit down and I’ll send for some coffee, or something stronger if you prefer.’
‘It’s too late for that. In fact it’s past midday and time for luncheon.’ Alice hesitated and then, seeming to relent a little, she sat down again. ‘Go on, explain.’
‘I went to see my father and found him in a terrible state …’ Essie’s explanation was cut short by Falco who burst into the room.
‘I saved the day,’ he said modestly. ‘I saw that our dear Essie was having trouble with her papa and I solved the problem. A few weeks at sea and he’ll be a new man.’
Alice looked from one to the other. ‘I don’t know which one of you is the least maddening. Here am I, trying to introduce Essie to society, and you are both making my life more difficult.’
‘Mia cara.’ Falco went down on one knee before her. ‘I am forever your humble servant, but I am no lapdog. I am a seafarer and therefore, with regret, I must leave you.’
Alice stared at him in dismay. ‘What are you saying, Falco?’
‘The Santa Gabriella sails on the tide and I am taking command.’
‘But I have arranged dinner parties and I accepted an invitation to a ball. I need an escort and I was relying on you.’
‘I am sure that there are gentlemen queuing for the privilege, mia cara.’ Falco turned to Essie, smiling broadly. ‘Your papa will be in good hands. I will see that he earns his pay with hard work, and he will have little opportunity to indulge in drink.’
Essie rushed over to embrace him. ‘Thank you, Falco. I am truly grateful, but we will miss you.’