She had, however, been obliged to spend two shillings of it on taking a cab from Paddington to Warren House.
It had seemed extravagant and she would have preferred to walk, but she knew that Mr. McMurdock was expecting her at three o’clock and she would then undoubtedly be late arriving.
Besides this she did not know the way there.
It had also struck her that, if she was late, another applicant who was punctual might be accepted. Then she would be sent away as soon as she arrived.
“What we have to decide now,” Hamish was saying, “is where you can stay the night. Have you any friends who might be expecting you?”
“I know no one in London,” Jacoba replied, “and, in fact, I have never been here before.”
Hamish looked at the Viscount, who realised that he was expected to come to the rescue.
“I am sure my father’s housekeeper can look after you for tonight, Miss Ford,” he said, “and I know you will be quite comfortable.”
“You mean – I can stay – here?” Jacoba asked.
There was a little lilt in her voice that told the two friends that she was excited at the prospect.
“I will make arrangements for you to do so,” the Viscount said, “and I hope, Miss Ford, that you will dine with Mr. McMurdock and myself.”
“Thank you – thank you very much!” Jacoba said. “That will be very – delightful.”
She thought with relief that she would not have to pay for her dinner.
And with the five pounds that Mr. McMurdock had promised her she would have plenty of money left when she reached Scotland.
The Viscount left the room and Hamish said,
“I am very grateful to you, Miss Ford, for accepting this position.”
“You must have had many other people who wished to take it,” Jacoba said.
“Not so many,” Hamish replied. “I think most young women are not keen to take such a long journey to the North of Scotland. But I have just come back from there myself and the trains are comfortable and there is seldom an accident.”
Jacoba gave a little shiver.
She knew that whatever this gentleman might say she was frightened. It was a train that had killed her father and uncle.
‘I have to be brave,’ she told herself, ‘because if I don’t go to Scotland, it may be difficult to find another position.’
She had, although she had not said so, been overcome to see how large London was.
And there were so many people, carriages and horses in the streets.
She had looked through the window of the cab that had brought her from the station and thought that if Mr. McMurdock did not accept her she would go back home.
She felt afraid of being alone in such an enormous City.
But now she had a position.
If she did everything that her elderly employer wanted, she might not have to worry about herself for a long time, maybe until he died.
“You are looking very serious!” Hamish observed. “You need not be frightened of the journey. I will put you into a carriage for ‘ladies only’.”
“Thank you very much, I would much prefer that,” Jacoba said.
The Viscount came back into the room.
“Everything is arranged,” he said. “I have explained to Mrs. Jennings that Miss Ford has to catch an early train from King’s Cross.”
“Thank you,” Hamish said.
“You will be called in good time,” the Viscount went on, “and I expect now you would like to rest before Mr. McMurdock and I meet you for dinner.”
Jacoba rose quickly to her feet feeling that perhaps she should have retired earlier.
The Viscount opened the door for her.
She passed through and found outside in the corridor there was an elderly woman dressed in rustling black.
“Ah, here you are, Mrs. Jennings!” the Viscount said. “Let me introduce you to Miss Ford, who is, as I told you, going to Scotland as a companion to the Earl of Kilmurdock.”
“I’ll look after Miss Ford, my Lord, and see she’s comfortable!” Mrs. Jennings said in a somewhat repressive tone.
“Thank you,” Jacoba repeated. “Thank you very much.”
She walked away with the housekeeper and the Viscount returned to the sitting room.
“Well, you have certainly hit the jackpot this time, old boy!” he said to Hamish. “She is the prettiest girl I have seen for years! I can think of far better things we could do with her than sending her into the lion’s den!”
“Now, you leave her alone!” Hamish warned. “I found her and Fate has turned up trumps!”
“It certainly has!” the Viscount agreed. “I only wish I could see your uncle’s face when she arrives blithely at The Castle to be a comfort to him in his old age!”
“I have written the letter she is to take with her,” Hamish said, “and I will give it to her after dinner. If that does not make the Earl squirm, nothing will!”
“Doubtless we shall learn after it has all happened just how much he did squirm!” the Viscount said. “But I am rather more concerned with her than I am with him.”
“Now stop interfering!” Hamish asserted. “When he sends her back, between us we will find something decent for her to do.”
“That should not be difficult!” the Viscount said laconically.
CHAPTER THREE
Jacoba was impressed by the bedroom the housekeeper took her into and with what she saw of the rest of the house.
Her father had often talked about the grand houses that there were in Mayfair.
She knew that he had been asked to dinner in some of them and had attended balls and parties with his brother.
But when they grew so poor, she felt that she would never see any of the places he had talked about.
Now she looked around.
She wanted to remember the heavily canopied bed, the pictures on the walls and the thick carpet under her feet as well as the large dressing table with its three mirrors and a candelabrum of silver cupids on either side of it that was beautiful.
Her trunks were brought upstairs and she told the housemaid which one she wanted unpacked.
Among the gowns in one of them were the few special little pieces of china she owned herself and some presents she had been given for Christmas and birthdays.
‘These, at least,’ she thought, ‘could not be snatched away to be sold!’
She had brought with her her mother’s gowns as well as her own.
When the housemaid drew out the two that were on top she decided to wear the prettiest of them.
It was really an older woman’s gown because it was a pigeon-breast grey with little touches of pink round the bodice and hem.
It became Jacoba very well because the chiffon was the colour of her eyes and it was also a striking contrast to her delicate skin.
She rested and later she had a bath in front of a small fire.
When she was dressed, the maid said,
“You looks lovely, miss, if I might say so! It’s a pity you ain’t goin’ to a ball.”
“I wish I was,” Jacoba said, “but tomorrow morning I have to leave early for Scotland.”
“It’s ever so far away,” the maid said, “and I be glad I can stay in London.”
Jacoba almost wished she could do the same and then she told herself that she was being ungrateful.
She was very lucky to have a job that would take her to Scotland, which she had always wanted to see and however long the journey, she must not complain.
When she was ready, she walked downstairs feeling rather shy.
She was also wondering if it was incorrect for her to dine alone with the two young men.
She had the uncomfortable feeling that if they treated her as her father and mother would have expected, they would arrange for her to have a chaperone.
‘I must remember,’ she thought, ‘that I am a companion and that is really only a superior servant.’
The Viscount and H
amish were waiting for her in the drawing room.
It was the most splendid room she had ever seen and it was lit by huge crystal chandeliers and the furniture was French.
She walked towards the two men who were standing in front of the marble mantelpiece.
The Viscount thought that no one could look so lovely and not be one of the professional beauties that the Beau Monde was peppered with.
They had captured the imagination of the British public as well as the heart of the Prince of Wales and photographs of them could be seen in many of the shop windows.
It would be easy to believe that Jacoba was one of them.
When she reached the two men, Jacoba said a little hesitantly,
“I – hope I am – not late?”
“No, you are very punctual,” the Viscount replied, “and I think as a reward you should have a glass of champagne.”
He put a glass into her hand.
Jacoba, who had only drunk champagne on a very few occasions, thought that she must be careful. It would be dangerous to drink before she had something to eat.
Although she had been feeling very hungry, she had thought it would be an imposition to ask the housekeeper if she could have some tea and she was nervous about ordering the housemaid to fetch her some.
When she was alone, she saw that there was an elaborate little box by her bed. It was covered in satin and decorated with a flower made of silk.
She opened it and found to her joy it contained a few biscuits.
She ate them all and they at least took away some of her hunger.
Now, however, she was very hungry indeed and somewhat afraid that the champagne might go to her head.
She therefore sipped it very cautiously and was glad when dinner was announced.
She put her glass down on a table behind a silver-framed photograph and hoped that nobody would notice she had drunk so little of it.
“I expect you are hungry after your journey,” the Viscount said as they walked towards the dining room.
It was then that Jacoba thought of tomorrow and she answered,
“I am very hungry because I was foolish enough not to bring any food with me to eat in the train.”
The Viscount stared at her.
“Do you mean that you have had nothing to eat since breakfast?”
“Only some delicious biscuits I found upstairs beside my bed.”
“You should have told us!” the Viscount exclaimed. “Did you hear that, Hamish? Miss Ford is starving!”
“I admit I never thought of telling her that she would want food on the train,” Hamish replied, “and, of course, I will arrange that she takes a hamper with her tomorrow.”
“There may be a restaurant car on the train if it is an up to date one,” the Viscount said, “but one can never be sure and we must certainly see that Miss Ford does not collapse on the journey.”
“Of course she must not do that!” Hamish responded sharply.
The Viscount knew he was thinking that if she did not arrive at The Castle as planned, it would spoil his revenge.
At the same time he thought it important that Jacoba should not suffer unnecessarily.
The dinner was certainly delicious.
There were six courses and at the end of it Jacoba felt she could not eat another mouthful.
She had never dined with two young men before and it was a very exciting experience.
Because they were close friends the Viscount and Hamish teased each other and made jokes at the other’s expense in way that made Jacoba laugh.
And because she was intelligent she could join in the conversation, although occasionally there were innuendos that she did not understand.
When dinner was over, they returned to the drawing room.
After they had talked for about half-an-hour Jacoba said to the Viscount,
“I think, my Lord, as I have to rise early, I should retire to bed and perhaps you and Mr. McMurdock are going out to meet your friends.”
She knew that this was something her father had often done after dinner and he had made her laugh when he told her how he used to make excuses to get away when a party was dull.
He used to see the last act at the Gaiety Theatre and, when the show was over, he would take one of the actresses out to supper at Romano’s.
She had not understood what all these adventures on his part entailed, but she did think that perhaps they were very expensive.
She thought that must have been why he always had to find something to sell when he returned home.
“As a matter of fact,” the Viscount replied to what she had said, “my friend and I have no plans for this evening, but we might call in at our Club.”
Jacoba laughed.
“My father used to talk about going to his Club. I sometimes wonder what the women do when they are left at home with nobody to talk to.”
The Viscount’s eyes twinkled.
“If they are as pretty as you,” he said, “I can assure you they will find somebody to talk to and it’s not always their husbands!”
He saw by the expression in Jacoba’s eyes that she did not understand what he was insinuating.
“Ladies may not go to Clubs,” he said quickly, “but they have tea parties at which they gossip with one another and it is impossible for any of them to keep a secret.”
“What sort of secret?” Jacoba asked curiously.
“Oh, unkind things about each other and, of course, who is in love with who.”
It all sounded very dashing but Jacoba was sure that her mother would not have approved.
She therefore rose to her feet.
“Thank you very much for asking me to dinner,” she said politely. “I have enjoyed the evening more than I can possibly say and I will always remember how magnificent the food was.”
She turned directly to Hamish McMurdock as she went on,
“I only hope, Mr. McMurdock, that I will be able to look after your relative and make him perhaps happier than he is at the moment. I will certainly try to do my very best.”
She spoke with such sincerity that for the moment Hamish could not think of an answer.
As Jacoba walked towards the door, the Viscount hurried to open it for her.
He then took her to the foot of the staircase.
“Take care of yourself,” he said in a low voice, “and if things do not work out, please come back here. I promise you I will find something else for you to do.”
“That is very kind of you,” Jacoba replied.
She put out her hand and, as he took it in his, to her surprise he raised it to his lips.
He just touched her bare skin.
But she thought it was a strange thing to do.
Her cheeks were crimson as she hurried up the stairs. The Viscount watched her go, but she did not look back.
When he heard her bedroom door close behind her, he returned to the drawing room.
Hamish was standing in front of the fireplace.
“If you do not feel somewhat guilty at what we are doing,” the Viscount remarked as he walked towards him, “I do!”
“I am not going to change my plans at the last minute,” Hamish retorted in a hard voice.
The Viscount thought before he replied,
“I intend to make certain that when she returns we will look after her and, of course, apologise for sending her on a wild goose chase.”
“Oh, for goodness sake,” Hamish exclaimed testily, “You are making a fuss about the girl simply because she is pretty! If she had been plain, you would not have cared a damn what happened to her!”
“She is undoubtedly a lady,” the Viscount replied.
“How can you be sure of that?” Hamish asked aggressively. “After all she appears to have no relatives, needs a job, comes from some obscure village in Worcestershire and has to earn her own living!”
The Viscount did not answer.
He only felt that he was helping Hamish to play a cad’s trick on a defence
less young woman who knew no more about the world than a chicken coming out of an egg.
‘I will look after her when she comes back,’ he told himself.
But however good his intentions, they did not make him feel any better.
*
In the morning when she was called, Jacoba was told that she was expected to breakfast downstairs.
The carriage that would take her to the station was ordered for eight-thirty.
It was delightful to have a maid dress her and even pour hot water in the basin.
Only when she was about to go downstairs did she remember that she ought to tip the woman.
She took five shillings from her purse.
“Thank you very much for looking after me” she said. “You have been very kind and I am most grateful.”
The maid looked at the money and then she shook her head.
“There’s no reason for you to give me anythin’, miss,” she said. “I understands you’re ’avin’ to work, same as me. I and you’ll need every penny they gives you.”
Jacoba hesitated and then put the silver coins back in her purse.
“It is very kind of you to think of me,” she sighed, “and to be truthful, now that my father is dead I have very little money, except, of course, what I will be able to earn.”
“Then ‘good luck’ to yer, miss! I ’opes as you’ll be ’appy where you’re goin’.”
They shook hands and Jacoba went downstairs with a warm feeling in her heart. When people were kind to her, it always made her feel as if she wanted to cry.
At first she was alone in the breakfast room and the butler showed her where she could help herself from a number of silver dishes on the sideboard.
It seemed like a feast to Jacoba and very different from the one little egg she had cooked for herself at The Gables.
Because she thought it was sensible, she ate a great deal more than she really wanted.
She was just finishing her second cup of coffee when the Viscount came into the room.
“I am late!” he blurted out. “With no excuses except that I slept rather badly last night.”
He did not add that it was because he was worrying about her.
He thought in her travelling gown and the little hat on the back of her head she looked even lovelier than she had last night.
74. Love Lifts The Curse Page 4