Her tone seems to hold an accusatory edge and I feel my breathing constrict. What does she mean by coming here?
‘Did something happen to Edward?’ I ask, immediately fearful for him.
Caroline doesn’t reply. Instead she walks into the room and removes her gloves. She is wearing a sumptuously embroidered green dress which fits her neat figure perfectly. Her hair is swept under a jaunty little hand-crafted hat. She looks around the room and her eyes settle on a decanter and glasses.
‘Will you not offer me wine?’ she says. Her voice is tight.
‘I.. Yes of course.’ I am awash with nerves, and unthinkingly move towards the decanter to pour her wine. She nods in satisfaction as I hand her the glass and the gesture jolts me out of my confusion.
‘Edward,’ I demand. ‘Did something happen?’
Caroline takes a deeper sip of wine than I would expect of a lady, and fixes me with her mean little eyes.
‘Yes,’ she says finally. ‘Something happened with Edward.’
My heart lurches.
Caroline’s finger traces the rim of her glass.
‘Edward,’ she says slowly. ‘Has called an end to our marriage prospects.’
The room seems to whirl around me.
Edward has ended their engagement?
A tiny hopeful part of me whispers that I am the reason.
Anger is rolling from Caroline in waves. But for all my unease and shock at her presence a quiet joy is dancing beneath the storm.
Edward will not marry her!
Caroline is scrutinising my face. There is so much tightly wound rage in her that my stomach starts to pound,
‘Edward has also cut his trading ties with my brother,’ she spits punctuating this with a furious swig of wine. ‘There is some nonsense talk that he will fund Vanderbilt’s fool exploration voyage. To the New World.’
Caroline makes me a humourless smile so packed with hatred that I take an involuntary step back.
‘And do you know what I think?’ she asks, her voice low and dangerous.
I shake my head.
‘I think,’ he says, ‘that you have beguiled Edward. Bewitched him. Convinced him to throw my family aside.’
I shake my head. ‘I never asked Edward not to marry you,’ I say quietly.
She eyes me for a moment and sips more wine. Fury flashes in her eyes.
‘I found out about you,’ she says, carefully articulating each word.
I feel the blush hot in my face.
Caroline nods. ‘I made enquiries,’ she continues. ‘No-one in London society had heard of you.’
She eyes me triumphantly.
‘But servants will always talk,’ she says. ‘A few shillings to Edward’s ostler was all it took to discover your secret. How you appeared in tawdry street clothes with your face cheaply painted.’
Her face has settled into a sneer now.
‘You are not even a courtesan’ she continues, shaking her head as if she can scarce believe it herself. ‘A common Piccadilly gutter-whore.’
For the first time in a long time the word makes me flinch.
‘Edward will return soon,’ I say shakily. ‘I would like you to leave.’
Loathing animates Caroline’s features.
‘You low girl,’ she hisses. ‘How dare you use his name to threaten me. I have worked all my life to earn myself a chance in the aristocracy.’
She takes two fast steps towards me and grabs hold of my arm. ‘You think you can earn yourself the same? Just with your face and figure?’
The contact is so unexpected I stand wide-eyed and frozen. A truth settles on me. That Caroline has watched bitterly as women like Harriet and me use our charms to rise faster and more surely than she. And she detests us for it.
‘Let go of my arm,’ I say, fighting to keep my voice calm.
Caroline looks down at her hand as though it belongs to somebody else. She drops the grip and steps back. She is smiling again now. A dangerous bitter smile.
‘You have made a dangerous enemy in me,’ she says. ‘Do you think that your charms could hold a man such as Edward? That you would ever be accepted in London society?’
‘No,’ I retort, my composure returning in a flash of temper. ‘Nor do I wish to be part of society which holds women like you.’
Caroline’s face darkens.
‘You will never be accepted,’ she spits. ‘I will make sure that every fine person knows exactly who you are. That you came from the streets, whoring yourself …’
Caroline is shouting now, her voice rising in an ugly pitch. She is so consumed with vitriol that she doesn’t hear or see Edward come into the room behind her.
‘Caroline.’ Edward makes the word echo around the room with displeasure.
She whips around to face him.
‘Edward!’ Caroline’s society smile manoeuvres back into place, but it is twisted and her shock is apparent. ‘I was just telling Elizabeth…’
‘That she is a whore,’ finishes Edward. ‘I heard you.’
He steps forward and eases the wine glass from her unresisting hand. Caroline stands rigid, her mouth hanging open. It occurs to me that she has probably never been touched so intimately by Edward before. I suddenly feel very sorry for her.
‘I think you should leave,’ says Edward. ‘You will not be received at my house again.’
‘Edward,’ says Caroline, ‘you cannot banish me from your society. After all my brother has done for you.’
She is outraged.
Edward makes a grim smile in reply.
‘I was blind to Fitzroy for so long,’ he says. ‘All he ever wanted was to use my family name.’ Edward shakes his head. ‘He was helping himself, not me.’
He draws back a little and Caroline licks her lips, eyes darting from Edward to me.
‘Already the ladies talk of her low ways …’ begins Caroline. ‘She will drag your family name into the gutter with her.’
Edward is shaking his head. His face is dark.
‘Enough,’ he whispers.
‘Edward—’ Caroline makes one last feeble appeal.
‘Leave now.’ Edward is too much of a gentleman to shout. But the force of his voice is enough. Caroline turns and virtually runs out of the door.
In a moment, Edward is at my side.
‘Are you well?’ he asks. ‘Did she upset you?’
I shake my head.
‘This is your second rescue of me in two days,’ I say, laughing to disguise how shaken I am. ‘It is a not a habit I am deliberately encouraging.’
He smiles, but I think he knows the truth.
Edward leads me to the chaise longue and we both sit for a long moment.
‘I am sorry,’ he says after a pause. ‘For Caroline. It is not true what she said. The ladies do not talk of you badly’
‘I would not care if they did.’
We sit a little longer holding hands. Then I turn to him.
‘You will not marry her?’
He smiles a little.
‘No.’
I stare at his fingers taking this in. I am too cowardly to ask what I really want to know. So I ask something else.
‘You changed your plans to deal in slaves?’ I say, remembering Caroline’s words.
Edward nods thoughtfully, his eyes glancing up at me.
I press his hand tighter.
‘Your words on slavery were very moving,’ he says. ‘And Mr Vanderbilt is a fine man. To hear him speak of exploration is inspiring. His journeys to America sound enthralling. Perhaps I shall travel there one day, on one of his ships.’
‘And take a Red Indian wife, like Mr Vanderbilt?’ I tease, wondering if he has any idea of my own thoughts about travelling to America.
He glances away.
‘You made a fine decision,’ I say. ‘Mr Vanderbilt will make you an excellent partner. You shall have joy from your business together.’
Edward smiles and then frowns.
‘Elizabeth, have
you thought about my offer?’ he asks. ‘That I will keep you in the city? In your own house.’
I look down.
‘I have thought about it.’
There’s a long pause and Edward’s eyes dart over my face.
‘But you mean to refuse? Because of Caroline?’ His jaw sets angrily.
‘Perhaps a little in part,’ I admit. ‘Certainly she will make it her business to defame me.’
Edward lifts my chin, so I am looking directly at him.
‘In part?’ he says. ‘What is the other reason?’
I gently take his hand from my chin and enclose it in my fingers.
‘Do you remember what I said that first day we met?’ I say. ‘That as a girl, I liked The Faerie Queene because I used to believe in fairy tales?’
Edward nods.
‘Perhaps I still do believe in them,’ I say.
‘What do you mean?’
I sigh and look directly at him.
‘You have done me some good,’ I say. ‘A lot of good. And it has … it has changed things. I can no longer accept what once would have made me content.’
‘You want more than to be my mistress,’ he says, in a flat little voice.
I nod and take his face in my hands.
‘I know,’ I say gently, ‘you cannot give it. And I do not blame you.’
Edward looks away.
‘It is not just for me,’ he says. ‘If there were children …’
I nod, for I am a grown-up street girl and not a child any more.
‘I am not bitter,’ I say. ‘It is the way things are. I am truly grateful for everything you have given me.’ I bite my lip. ‘Your offer to keep me is more than generous. But I cannot be your mistress,’ I conclude. ‘Perhaps another man’s. But never yours.’
Edward makes an angry kind of sigh and there is hurt in his eyes.
‘Stay,’ he says, suddenly fierce. ‘Stay with me tonight. If not as my mistress, then stay as my lover.’
‘I am sorry,’ I whisper, my words coming braver than I feel. ‘I cannot.’
Chapter 44
‘You will not stay?’
Sophie is carefully packing my fine clothes into the trunk. I can tell she has been wanting to ask this since she started, but has only just worked up the courage.
‘Oh Sophie,’ I smile, ‘London society is too small for a woman like me.’
Her face colours a little and she looks down. I know she is not foolish enough to truly believe I am a lady. But I think she had begun to enjoy the masquerade almost as much as I did.
Sophie frowns, as though remembering something. She fumbles in her hanging pocket.
‘His lordship bid me give you this,’ she says, passing me a parcel of velvet.
I take it with a question on my face and unroll the fabric.
Inside are the hair ornaments. The bird of paradise and the butterflies.
‘He must have had the jeweller send them on,’ I murmur, turning the dazzling bird, with its jewelled wings.
Sophie peers at the ornament in my hand.
‘His lordship is perhaps not so wise,’ she says, ‘to let go of something so lovely.’
And then she turns quickly back to packing, as though fearing she has said too much.
I stand there, feeling idle while she works.
‘Come here a moment,’ I say, summoning her from the packing to where I am standing. She obligingly shuts the trunk and walks to me.
‘This is for you and Mrs Tomkinson,’ I say, closing the two butterfly ornaments in her hand.
Her eyes grow wide.
‘You are sure?’ she breathes, gazing at them.
I nod. ‘I have the bird,’ I say. ‘That is my favourite.’
I meet Mrs Tomkinson on the stair on my way out to the carriage. She is preoccupied with directing a footman, but stops when she sees I am dressed in outdoor clothes.
‘You are leaving?’ she asks.
I nod.
Her face flickers through a spectrum of emotions.
‘I will walk you out to the carriage,’ she decides.
We step out into the sunshine, to see the carriage already awaits.
‘It was a pleasure to serve you, Miss Lizzy,’ she says.
Her hand reaches out and uncertainly, she pats my arm.
‘I had a daughter once,’ she says. ‘Had she lived, I think you might have looked alike. For she had a grace to her too.’
‘Thank you,’ I reply.
‘Here,’ Mrs Tomkinson adds, moving to open the carriage door, ‘allow me.’
I step up, far more easily now I have mastered my fine skirts.
Once inside the carriage the velvet walls feel suddenly stifling. I lean from the window.
‘Goodbye, Bridget,’ I say. ‘I left a gift for you with Sophie.’
She smiles. ‘Thank you, child. You were already a gift in yourself.’
Then she steps back from the carriage, collecting herself.
‘You will do well,’ she continues, in a slightly stiffer voice. ‘And if you are ever in need, you must come to me.’
Until this point I was controlled. But my eyes fill with tears and my throat tightens.
‘I am grateful to you,’ I breathe, finding it hard to speak. ‘For everything.’
The driver flicks his whip and the horse jolts to life.
And as the carriage rolls away from the townhouse, all I have just lost suddenly becomes apparent.
Chapter 45
Kitty barely recognises me when I return to our old room.
As I climb the ancient staircase, the familiarity of it all is so strange. It feels like I have been away a lifetime and not a week. The smell of cheap tallow candle hangs on the air, and I realise I never noticed it before.
When I open our creaking door, Kitty’s eyes grow wide as if ready to challenge me. Then her face makes a comical shuffling of expression, as she finally recognises her roommate.
‘I thought a lady had got lost,’ she says, standing with a wide grin. ‘Look at you! There is even a little plumpness to your figure!’ she adds, squeezing my arms approvingly.
I laugh, moving to hug her. ‘Did you get the money I sent?’ I ask.
She takes my hand and leads me to sit beside her on the bed.
‘Yes. God bless you,’ she says. ‘For it became very close for a day or two. Creditors and all kinds of bad men came out of the woodwork.’
She presses my hand.
‘But what of you?’ she demands. ‘I heard Harriet has been talking. You are a fine lady now.’
I smile and look down.
‘Did Lord Hays fall in love with you?’ she asks, searching my face. ‘That is what Harriet thought.’
I shake my head.
‘Harriet always did live in dreams,’ I say. ‘It was a business arrangement. Nothing more. But we both got what we wanted.’
‘Where will you go now?’ she asks.
I chew my lip.
‘I had thought to set up a house in Mayfair. I have enough money to rent for a few months. And Lord Hays gave me fine clothes. I should have been able to make a try at being a courtesan.’
‘But now you think different?’
I nod slowly. ‘Remember Rose?’ I say.
Kitty understands immediately.
‘You will go away?’ she asks, in distress. ‘But anything might happen to you!’
I take her hand in both of mine.
‘I made a friend in shipping,’ I say. ‘He promised me safe passage and told me about America. Women may make a fine life as rich widows. No one should know my reputation.’
Kitty shrugs.
‘You never did fit in Piccadilly,’ she says, her eyes skirting my face and figure admiringly. ‘I always knew there would be some fine future for you.’
‘For you too,’ I insist.
But Kitty only smiles.
I take her hand, pressing coins into it, and at first she tries to pull away.
‘Take it,’ I insi
st. ‘It is no charity I give you. I know you will use the money wisely. Buy some gloves. Find a good suitor.’
She nods, her eyes flicking backwards and forwards on mine, as if trying not to cry.
‘When will you sail?’ she asks after a pause.
‘As soon as I can gain passage.’
Kitty’s eyes widen.
‘Why so quickly?’
I look away.
‘Oh no,’ says Kitty, shaking her head.
I bite my lip and try to stop the tears coming.
‘You fell in love with your lord?’ she breathes.
I nod and it feels so good to make the confession that the tears fall freely. Kitty crushes me against her and I sob on her shoulder.
‘My little Lizzy bird,’ she says softly. ‘Your heart always was too soft for this business. You’ll make a fine life in America. I am sure of it. Find yourself a husband and have that ordinary life you always sought.’
I sniff and give a little laugh.
‘And you shall live the outrageous life that others dream of,’ I reply.
Kitty grins. ‘That is my only purpose.’
She sighs and then stands, pulling me with her.
‘Come then, let us put together your things.’
Chapter 46
With my possessions all packed, I walk to the Exchange and make my arrangements. I am luckier than I dreamed. As chance would have it, a ship bound for America sails this very afternoon.
The providence of it almost gives me doubts. But I steel myself, remembering I have done far braver things. I hand over my forty guineas with my eyes closed. And receive back a bundle of papers for my passage.
Once the ticket is bought, I arrange for my trunks to be sent for, and say my final goodbyes to Kitty. Then there is nothing to do, but journey the three miles to Canary Wharf. It occurs to me that most ladies would take a sedan chair, but I do not mind the walk and should rather save my pennies.
Rather than go straight, however, I go the way of the bird market to make one last purchase.
The familiar jumble of makeshift cages and squawking occupants brings a smile of remembrance to my lips. I step slowly among the well-worn sights, wondering at how they look so different after only a week. I cannot quite say what has changed. Only the market seems smaller and duller than I remember it.
Masquerade: Can a street-girl become a lady? Page 22