by Dilly Court
Jonas lit a cigar. ‘Is he now?’
‘I’m invited to their engagement party at Adam’s family home in Highgate, only I can’t go.’ Just why had she blurted that out to Jonas? Almost before the words were out of her mouth, Ruby wished them unsaid. It must be the wine and brandy taking hold of her brain and making her stupid.
‘And why can’t you go?’
Shaking her head, Ruby stared down into the amber liquid in her glass. ‘I’d feel out of place among the toffs, and anyway I got nothing to wear.’
‘Poor Cinderella,’ Jonas said, chuckling.
Jumping to her feet, Ruby felt the room spinning round and she sat down again. ‘I feel a bit dizzy.’
‘Come on,’ Jonas said, getting up and hooking her arm around his shoulders. ‘Let’s get you to your room.’
‘I can manage, ta.’ Pushing him away, Ruby staggered and clutched at the chair back. ‘I’m a bit tipsy, but I don’t need no help.’
‘Of course you don’t,’ Jonas said, hoisting her over his shoulder. Having carried her up the stairs in this undignified manner, he dumped her unceremoniously on the bed in her room. Jonas stood for a moment looking down at her.
Focusing her eyes with difficulty, Ruby wagged her finger at him. ‘No funny business.’
Lifting her skirt a little, Jonas slipped off her satin shoes and dropped them on the floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he unrolled her stockings, peeling them off and holding one of her feet in his hand, he stroked it slowly and sensuously. The warmth of his fingertips and the unexpected thrill of his light touch on her bare foot sent a shiver of excitement through Ruby’s body, but a warning voice in her head made her sit up and pull her foot away.
‘You promised!’
For a moment, Jonas sat quite still, staring at her with a perplexed frown, and then his lips curved in a smile and his eyes darkened with desire as he took her in his arms. ‘I warned you before, Ruby, I’m a bad lot.’
Confused and tormented by her own wicked lust, which would surely see her burn in hell, Ruby struggled against the treacherous response of her body, but the strong masculine scent of him filled her with a wave of desire. It was shocking and disgraceful, but it seemed that she was powerless to resist and Ruby wound her arms around Jonas’s neck. His mouth was so close to hers that she could almost taste him. Closing her eyes, she parted her lips, waiting for his kiss. She felt the muscles of his arms contract and he released her so suddenly that she fell back against the pillows.
‘I want you, Ruby,’ Jonas said gruffly, ‘but not like this.’
*
Ruby awakened next morning suffering from a thumping headache, a parched throat and mouth and toe-curling embarrassment as she remembered the events of last night. She had always known that Jonas was a dangerous man, but the real danger lay in her passionate response to his lovemaking; she was confused and bitterly ashamed of her wanton behaviour. How could you hate a man, as she most definitely hated Jonas, and yet respond to him as if it were the most natural thing in the world? And how could she bring herself to reveal all this to Father Brennan in the confessional? She could not understand why Jonas had left her so suddenly, but she was painfully aware that she had behaved like a common tart and she felt her cheeks burning with mortification and self-loathing. Ruby slipped out of the house before anyone else had stirred and she set off for the hospital.
No matter how many excuses Ruby thought up, Pamela always countered with a good reason why she must come to her engagement party. As the days slipped by, Ruby was running out of ideas, and had just decided to simply tell Pamela the truth when Adam cornered her in the sluice.
‘Pam is really worried that you won’t come to the party, Ruby.’
‘I’m not sure if I can get the time off.’
Taking the bedpan out of her hands, Adam dropped it into the sink. ‘We both want you to come. If there’s a problem, I’m sure it can be overcome.’
Struggling to come up with a convincing lie, Ruby felt herself floundering. ‘I – it’s a long way to Highgate.’
A frown puckered Adam’s high forehead. ‘And a cab is expensive. How thoughtless of us, Ruby. I’ll send a hansom cab for you and make sure that there is one to take you home. Please say you’ll come. Pam is so fond of you, and so am I.’
Unable to resist his smile, Ruby nodded. She would walk barefoot from Shoreditch to Highgate just to hear Adam say he cared for her. She had nothing special to wear and no idea how a lady would dress to attend a fashionable garden party. But, as Granny Mole had always said to her, ‘Who’s going to look at you anyway?’ She would just wear her print frock and hope she did not look too out of place.
Taking advantage of the spell of fine summer weather, the party was going to be held in the Fairfaxes’ garden. Pamela had been chattering excitedly about the fact that fresh salmon and venison were being sent down from Scotland for the lunch, together with dozens of punnets of raspberries. There was to be a marquee, just in case it rained, and an orchestra had been hired to play all day and into the evening when there would be dancing. Caught up in all this, Ruby was in a state wavering between joy and despair. What good was it that Adam cared for her, if she was about to witness him getting engaged to someone else?
The evening before the engagement party, praying that by some divine intervention she would have a valid excuse for not going, Ruby went home to Raven Street. Matron, who for some reason was being unusually beneficent, had agreed to Ruby having the next day off, dashing her last hope of a reprieve. As she let herself into the house, she could hear music and laughter coming from the large dining room downstairs where the women were being entertained, and the low droning of men’s voices as Ruby passed the gaming room on the first floor. Wearily, Ruby climbed the stairs to her own room. Switching on the lights, she blinked to make sure she was not imagining things. The entire surface of her bed was covered in bandboxes and a large hatbox from Peter Robinson’s emporium. For a wild moment, she thought that the gifts might have come from Adam and she rummaged amongst the boxes looking for a card. She found one, tucked inside a deckle-edged envelope.
For Cinderella
Jonas! He had teased her, calling her Cinderella, and no one else would have known that her measurements were listed in Peter Robinson’s order book. Disappointment clouded her mind. How stupid could she be, imagining that Adam might have made such a generous gesture? As for Jonas, his motive was far from clear; it could have been guilt or perhaps he wanted her to make a fool of herself at the party. Ruby ran her fingers over one of the satin-smooth cardboard boxes, torn between curiosity to see what was inside and the desire to fling them all back in his face. In the end, curiosity won. Tearing at satin bows, Ruby opened box after box, until her bed was covered in a froth of undergarments made of silk and lace, an exquisite dress that was finer than anything she could ever have imagined, shoes to match, gloves, a parasol and a wide-brimmed hat that was a confection of tulle and silk flowers. Of course she couldn’t accept such an extravagant gift, but who could resist just trying them on to see the effect?
Leaving the comparative security of the hansom cab, Ruby trod the path up to the imposing red-brick Georgian house owned by Adam’s parents. Sick with nerves, wishing that she were anywhere but here, she took a deep breath and raised the gleaming brass lion’s head knocker.
A parlourmaid opened the door and led her through the house and out into the back garden. Left alone on the paved terrace, Ruby clutched the handle of the lace parasol that exactly matched the lavish trimming of her turquoise silk gown, and peering beneath the wide brim of her hat, she searched for a familiar face in the crowd. Strolling in the sunshine on green-velvet lawns, the elegantly dressed ladies, leaning on the arms of gentlemen in tailcoats and top hats, appeared delicate and colourful as butterflies. Aware that her presence was attracting curious stares, Ruby could only think that it was her lone state that was causing such interest. Everyone seemed to be in pairs or family groups and she prayed for the g
round to open up and swallow her. Miss Luckes, almost unrecognisable out of her starched uniform, was sipping champagne and chatting to a distinguished-looking man. Ruby recognised him immediately as Lord Knutsford, Chairman of the Board of Governors of the London Hospital. Overcome with nerves, Ruby was about to retreat through the French windows into the drawing room when Pamela came rushing towards her, arms outstretched, cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with happiness.
‘Ruby! I’m so glad you came. You look absolutely beautiful. Come and say hello to Adam.’ Without waiting for an answer, Pamela slipped her arm through Ruby’s and dragged her down the steps onto the lawn. ‘Adam, darling! Look who’s just arrived.’
Breaking away from a group of men, some of whom Ruby recognised as consultants from the London, Adam came towards them, a genuine smile of pleasure lighting his face. ‘Ruby, how good of you to come and how absolutely stunning you look.’
Ruby managed a smile. ‘Congratulations to you both.’
‘See my ring; isn’t it just too gorgeous for words?’ Pamela waved her left hand in front of Ruby’s face so that the sunlight caught the solitaire diamond, turning it into a ball of white fire.
‘I never seen nothing like it,’ Ruby said, blinking.
‘It is rather splendid, isn’t it,’ Pamela said, gazing fondly at Adam. ‘I’m so lucky.’
Adam bent down to drop a kiss on her forehead. ‘No, I’m the fortunate one. Don’t you think so, Ruby?’
Swallowing an egg-sized lump in her throat, Ruby could only nod.
‘Darling, we’re neglecting poor Ruby,’ Pamela said, slapping him playfully on the hand. ‘Fetch her a glass of champagne, will you, please?’
‘Of course,’ Adam said, flashing a smile at Ruby. ‘Why don’t you introduce her to our parents, Pam?’
Watching Adam stroll off in the direction of the marquee, Ruby felt as though her heart was being ripped out of her body with a pair of surgical forceps. She had always known there was no hope for her but this was truly the end of her dreams. Adam and Pamela officially belonged together now and this was their world, a world in which she felt totally alien.
Bubbling over with happiness, Pamela did not seem to notice Ruby’s discomfort, guiding her from group to group of people, making introductions until the faces and names registered nothing but a blur in Ruby’s mind. She was aware of stretched smiles and penetrating looks from the ladies, as though they were mentally totting up the cost of her outfit and wondering how a common girl from the East End could afford such luxuries. The gentlemen were less severe, most of them openly admiring and some of them downright saucy; one of Pamela’s uncles, who appeared to have drunk a bit too much whisky, actually pinched her bottom. Ruby got away from him as quickly as possible.
When Pamela made for the group around Miss Luckes, Ruby drew back. ‘No, really. I’d rather not, Pam.’
‘Good heavens, why ever not?’ Pamela’s delicate eyebrows formed arcs of surprise.
‘It’s Matron.’
‘Of course it’s Matron, silly. And that’s Lord Knutsford and Sir Frederick Treves but they won’t eat you. They’re all friends of the family.’
‘Sir Frederick Treves, the surgeon what took care of the Elephant Man?’ Ruby couldn’t help staring at him, amazed that he looked so ordinary when he was considered little short of God at the London where, until recently, he had been such an eminent surgeon.
‘Yes, of course. He’s a dear and terribly funny,’ Pamela said, chuckling. ‘Adam used to attend his lectures and said he was always making risqué jokes. You simply must meet him.’
‘Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking for you both,’ Adam said, weaving his way through the throng with two glasses of champagne in his hands. ‘Ruby, you must be exhausted with all this how-do-you-doing.’
Gulping a mouthful of champagne, Ruby’s eyes watered as the bubbles went up her nose. She managed a smile and a nod, wishing that someone had warned her that ‘pleased to meet you’ wasn’t the proper greeting amongst the toffs. No wonder some of the fusty old matrons had looked down their beaky noses at her.
‘Ruby has borne it all like a real trouper,’ Pamela said, sipping her champagne. ‘I simply can’t think of anything worse than having to meet all my ghastly relations in one go, let alone yours, Adam.’
Pulling a face, Adam grinned. ‘I know, but one has to do these things. We’d better circulate a bit, Pam. Will you be all right, Ruby?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Ruby said, stifling a hiccup.
‘Just watch out for Uncle Bertie,’ Adam said, taking Pamela by the hand. ‘He’s a bit of a one with the ladies.’
‘Ta, but I think we already met.’ And I’ve got a bruise to prove it, Ruby thought, watching them walk away hand in hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Uncle Bertie advancing on her with a glass of whisky in his hand and a leering look on his face. Taking evasive action, Ruby ducked into the shrubbery, making her way between the bushes to a shady part of the garden where some of the older ladies sat on spindly gilt chairs, chatting to each other. She had successfully dodged Uncle Bertie but the only way out of the shrubbery would bring her into the middle of the ladies’ circle. Hardly daring to breathe, Ruby waited, hoping that Uncle Bertie would tire of looking for her and walk away.
‘We’re so lucky with the weather, Joan.’ Ruby recognised Mrs Chadwick’s clipped tones.
‘You know what they say about the sun shining on the righteous, Blanche.’
That sounded like Mrs Fairfax, Ruby thought. Adam’s mother had given her a very hard stare when they were introduced. She longed to get away but she could still see Uncle Bertie waiting and watching, like a fat black spider in the middle of his web. Ruby prayed that he would finish his drink and go to the marquee for a refill.
‘I’m so looking forward to having Adam as a son-in-law.’
‘And I’m just relieved that Adam had the good sense to pick a lovely girl like Pamela. I shudder to think that he could have fallen for someone like the common little girl from the hospital that they insisted on inviting. She may have a pretty face but when she opens her mouth she speaks like a costermonger.’
‘I feel quite sorry for her, Joan. She must feel terribly out of place.’
‘Not that sort, my dear. Have you stopped to wonder how a girl like that would be able to afford such an outfit unless she were – you know, up to no good? You’d better have a quiet word with Pam, warn her not to get too friendly. Even the most upright men can give in to that sort of temptation.’
Stuffing her hand into her mouth to stop herself from crying out in protest, Ruby picked up her skirts and ran, barging into Uncle Bertie and knocking him off balance. Racing through the house, she pushed past an astonished maid, sending a tray of glasses flying. Wrenching the front door open, Ruby stumbled out onto the tiled path and ran.
Chapter Fourteen
Unable to sleep for the heat, the sound of Granny Mole’s snoring and the baby kicking her in the ribs, Rosetta got up and went downstairs to the living room. The first hint of the summer dawn was streaking the sky above the houses across the street, and Rosetta went to sit by the window, opening it to try to get a little air into the stuffy room. This was the dawn of her wedding day, a day that was supposed to be happy and special and she was going to be a radiant bride: but that was so untrue that it made her want to cry. Leaning her hot forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane, Rosetta closed her eyes, thinking back to the events that had brought her to this sorry state.
But if she were honest, she had to admit that there was no one to blame but herself. She had gone willingly with Billy that dreadful night when she had left home rather than go to live with the Moles until her baby was born. She remembered every incident clearly, from the moment when she had opened her eyes, staring up at the rafters in the unfamiliar stable loft that was Billy’s home …
*
Rosetta sat up in bed – Billy’s bed. Her stomach churned and the now familiar wave of na
usea made her retch. ‘Billy?’
The room, which was little more than a stable loft, was empty. The bed was narrow, just big enough for a single person; wherever Billy had slept it had not been at her side. Rosetta sank back onto the pillow, closing her eyes, waiting for the sick feeling to subside. Now the memories came flooding back to her, the angry scenes with Aunt Lottie and Alf and the final indignity when Uncle Sly had turned her out of the house in Raven Street. She could still hear the disappointment and disapproval in her mother’s voice and Granny Mole’s uncompromising condemnation of her behaviour. If Billy hadn’t taken her in she would have had to sleep in a doorway or worse. One moment she had been Miss Rosetta, up and coming star of the Falstaff Music Hall, and now she was pregnant, homeless, sleeping on a truckle bed in a spider-filled loft, and even Billy had deserted her. Scalding tears forced themselves between her closed eyelids and trickled down her cheeks.
‘Hey, hey, what’s all this?’
Opening her eyes with a start, Rosetta saw Billy standing beside the bed, his face puckered in concern.
‘I don’t feel well, Billy.’
‘You just need some grub inside you, girl,’ Billy said, waving a package wrapped in newspaper in front of her nose. ‘Breakfast, that’s what you need. A bacon doorstep and a cuppa will set you up a treat.’
Rosetta turned her head away. ‘I told you, I feel sick. I can’t eat.’
‘Suit yourself, then,’ Billy said, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table.
Sneaking a peek at him, Rosetta’s mouth watered as she watched him unwrap two doorstep sandwiches, taking a bite out of one as he poured tea from a tin pail into two mugs. The smell of bacon and hot tea was too much for her. She sat up. ‘Maybe just a cup of tea.’
Billy spooned sugar into one of the mugs and handed it to her. ‘That’s the ticket.’
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Rosetta sipped the tea, and as the sick feeling began to pass she realised that she was starving. Reaching out, she snatched a sandwich and bit into the thick wodge of bread, marge and crispy bacon.