‘Do not concern yourself, my dear. One way or another we’ll manage. There are plenty of willing hands—but I shudder to think what will happen when we can take no more children. This place is full to capacity. The children are so dependent on us—they have no one else, poor mites. The charity schools take some of them, and there are other Foundling Houses, but what we really need is bigger and better accommodation. This has preoccupied my mind and the majority of my time since you left. I have been lobbying all those who contribute to the charity.’
‘And have you seen anything suitable?’
‘Oh, yes. There’s an ideal property—an old boys’ school at Islington—that could house the orphanage and more children besides. It also has some land, which would mean we could keep some animals and grow our own vegetables, but it requires a vast amount more money. But enough of this. You haven’t come to hear my woes. Come and see Maisie. She’s been in a state of high excitement ever since I told her you were coming to London.’
‘Aunt Celia,’ Delphine began, pulling her aunt aside so they were not overheard, ‘I saw Will Kelly hanging about outside. Is he still determined to get his hands on Maisie?’
‘Oh, that reprobate. What I wouldn’t give to have the constables take him away and lock him up for good. I hardly dare let that girl out of my sight. She even sleeps in one of the warders’ rooms in case he forces his way in and tries to take her. Maisie is a darling girl and her help is much needed. I do my best to keep her here, but I’m afraid I can’t keep her indoors indefinitely. Will Kelly is determined to have her.’
Delphine looked away, reminding herself that, considering all the time the girl had spent with her unfortunate mother in Mrs Cox’s bordello, there wasn’t much that Maisie hadn’t seen.
‘What’s to be done about her I don’t know, but I won’t see her end up like her mother.’
‘But, my dear aunt, I wrote and told you that I can take her away. She can come back to Cornwall with me—far enough away to be out of his reach.’
‘Would you really do that? I imagined your hands would be quite full once Lowenna was born.’
‘If Maisie is happy to leave London, she will always be welcome at Tamara.’
‘Oh, Delphine, I can’t tell you what a weight off my mind that would be.’ Delphine smiled at her aunt’s obvious relief, but her expression darkened as an unpleasant question occurred to her.
‘Aunt Celia, how did Meg die?’
‘She fell down the stairs and broke her neck. I think she was pushed, but no one can prove it. The constables have more important things to do than investigate the death of a prostitute in a brothel.’
‘I suppose you’re right, but poor Meg—she deserved better than that. You don’t think Will Kelly was behind her death?’ Her aunt looked grim.
‘Yes, I do. He plagued Meg night and day to have Maisie taken from the orphanage to Mrs Cox’s. Of course she wouldn’t hear of it.’ Celia sighed, shaking her head wearily. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever know the truth of what happened. But what we can do is take care of Meg’s daughter and make sure he doesn’t get his hands on her. Come and see her.’
The moment she set eyes on the familiar child, the effect of her mother’s death was all too evident to Delphine. Maisie had such a tragic, woebegone face and such enormous, wistful eyes as would break anybody’s heart.
Now, seeing Delphine, of whom she had been particularly fond and had missed terribly in the years since her departure, the girl smiled, a vivacious and dimpled smile that gladdened Delphine’s heart. Even though she was wearing a shapeless and threadbare woollen dress, it was clear Maisie was growing up to be a beauty. There was a radiance about her that would attract men like bees to nectar—the worst kind of men. Little wonder Will Kelly had his sights on her.
Delphine gave her a motherly hug. ‘How are you, my dear girl? I’ve been thinking about you.’
‘I’m all right, miss.’
‘And just look at you. How you’ve grown. Why, you’ll soon be as tall as me.’
‘I’m twelve now, and can write more than my own name,’ she said proudly.
Delphine smiled at her. ‘I know you can. You’re a clever girl, Maisie. I’ve been talking to my aunt about you and wondered how you would feel about coming to work for me.’
Her eyes widened. ‘In your house?’
‘Yes—in Cornwall. It’s a lovely house, Maisie—by the sea. What do you say? Would you like that?’
Maisie’s eyes stretched wide with awe. ‘Oh, yes, miss. I would.’
‘Then go and get your things together. You can come with me now. We won’t be going back to Cornwall for a little while, but I’m sure we can find something for you to do until then.’
‘Are you quite sure about this?’ Celia asked as they watched an excited Maisie scamper away.
‘Absolutely. The last time I saw Meg I promised her that if anything happened to her I would take care of Maisie. I feel responsible for her.’
‘And your husband? What do you think he will have to say about your taking a young girl out of the orphanage and finding her employment in his house?’
Delphine knew exactly how Stephen would react, but she would not be deterred from doing what was right. ‘No doubt he will have a seizure. He has no objections to my charity work—in fact he has always admired what I do—but taking unwanted children into the house is another matter.’
* * *
When Delphine and her new ward arrived back at the house, Delphine enlisted one of the maids to have a room made ready and to see that Maisie was bathed and dressed in clean clothes. In a house as fully staffed as this one with countless female servants, there must, Delphine guessed, be plenty of cast-off clothes.
It was by this time early afternoon, and Delphine awaited Stephen’s return in a state of nervous apprehension. The minutes ticked by and, try as she might to push her worries aside, it seemed an eternity had passed when she heard his footsteps on the landing outside her room as he passed to his own room next door. Taking a deep breath, she went and tapped softly on his door.
Entering on his command, hesitantly she closed the door and stood with her back pressed against the hard wood, uncertain of his mood. He looked up and an inexplicable, lazy smile swept over his face as he surveyed her from head to foot.
During the daytimes at Tamara, when he was at the mines or occupied with estate matters, he was able to think about something other than his sexual frustration for his wife. But when he was with her, he would take one look at her and desire invariably led to frustration.
So fragile was his remaining hold on his self-control that instead of joining her for the evening meal, he went to a local hostelry or dined with friends. Here in London he could escape to his club. He cursed himself for the agreement he had made with Delphine. He should never have let her talk him into this ridiculous notion of celibacy. It was pointless and juvenile and he was determined to put an end to it. Actions, not words, would be the only way to make her lower her guard and surrender herself to him.
‘This is an unexpected surprise,’ he said, removing his coat. ‘My wife in my room. Now, why is that, I ask myself? I shall not flatter myself with the notion that you have come to see me.’
‘It’s about my visit to the orphanage,’ Delphine admitted, unable to meet his gaze.
‘I thought it might be,’ he said, picking up a pile of unopened letters that had been delivered to the house earlier and studying each one in turn. ‘Tell me—and then I think a change of clothes is in order, if you would still like to go to Hampstead.’
‘Yes—yes, I would. But—I wanted to tell you that…I have brought one of the girls from the orphanage back with me. I thought we could take her to Tamara with us—to employ her in some capacity in the house.’
‘Girl?’ He mov
ed to the window, his attention caught by one of the unopened envelopes. ‘Mmm,’ he murmured. ‘Spain.’ He opened it, momentarily distracted from what Delphine was saying. ‘How old is she?’
‘Just twelve—very young, I know, but she is in trouble.’ She watched him uncertainly.
He stopped and slowly turned to face her. His face was totally without expression and Delphine, who had followed him and was right behind him, almost bumped into him. Her spirits sank, for though she knew he was a fair man, he was her husband and master of his house, and she realised she should have asked him before installing a strange girl in it. If he said no to her request, how could she help poor Maisie, whose lovely face had attracted the attention of the despicable Will Kelly?
Stephen stared at her blankly. ‘And who is she?’
‘It is Maisie; a girl, you might remember, who I was particularly attached to when I used to visit the orphanage. It wasn’t safe for her to remain there, so I—so I’ve brought her here.’
Stephen drew himself up to his full height. Putting down his letter, he folded his arms over his chest and looked at her with an unfathomable expression. ‘A girl from the orphanage? I do remember you telling me about her. It was because of her that you were at the brothel on the night we met. I also recall you telling me that her mother was a whore.’
Delphine almost wailed in despair. ‘You cannot condemn Maisie because of her mother.’
‘I have not condemned her.’
‘Please let her stay, Stephen. Would you have her live on the streets?’
His face remained impassive. ‘Of course not, but I’m sure a suitable position could be found for her. She could be a maidservant. Maidservants can always find employment.’
‘At twelve years old, and without any training? Girls are being abducted every day in London, snatched from the streets and dragged to houses where they are used for men’s gratification. Maisie’s mother is dead. She has no one. We can offer her a position here, with us. Stephen, I promised Meg—her mother—that if anything should happen to her, I would take care of Maisie. I must honour that promise.’
‘I agree, you are duty bound to do so, but how long will it be before you take pity on another girl at the orphanage and bring her here to work? Before I know it, you’ll have every waif and stray in London living with us.’
‘Maisie is my main concern; I have made no promises to other girls. If I don’t take her away, Will Kelly will surely get his hands on her. I told you about him, but it’s so long ago now I doubt you will remember.’
‘As a matter of fact, I do. Your concern for this girl is commendable.’
Lounging against the window frame with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his trousers, his eyes watchful, Stephen was far more interested in his wife than what she was saying. His mind hardened with resolve. He had mentally ticked off the days since his return from Spain—the days Delphine had withheld herself from him. He had noticed the change in her that motherhood had brought about—she was not the charming innocent he had left behind. The transformation both unnerved and enthralled him. The breathtaking woman who stood before him dressed so finely, her eyes alight with passion for her cause, was a lady fit to take her place in the most glittering houses in the land. Stephen had the odd sensation that Delphine had become someone else, but there was no mistaking those brilliant eyes or that entrancing face. She moved a little closer, the scent of her gentle perfume wafting over him, and his decision to have her no matter how much trouble she put him to now became an unshakeable resolution.
Her time was up!
A slow smile drifted across his face. ‘What a changeable young woman you are, Delphine.’
Her eyes widened with indignation. ‘Changeable?’
Stephen bit back a laugh, trying to keep his eyes off the alluring display of smooth flesh exposed by the neckline of her gown. ‘I meant,’ he said levelly, ‘that you are a gentle, caring mother one minute, and a firebrand fighting for her cause the next.’
Thrown off balance, Delphine was not unaware of the odd, possessive gleam in his eyes as they roved over her, but she was momentarily distracted by the disquieting discovery of how handsome and elegant he looked in his dark trousers and the white shirt that emphasised the muscular width of his shoulders.
‘If I am, it’s because I am passionate about what I do. Maisie will not be a problem, I assure you. But if we turn her out… She will be in very grave danger. She’s a marvel with the little ones at the orphanage, extremely capable, and Aunt Celia has taught her the basics of reading and writing.’
‘Then I’m amazed Aunt Celia can bear to part with her. Will a charity school not take her?’
‘Will Kelly would soon find her. Oh, please, Stephen,’ she begged, ‘let me take her to Tamara. She’ll earn her keep, I promise you that. Whatever her mother was, Maisie is a good girl. I care about her so much—as I did her mother. I would no more think of abandoning her child than I would my own. Please don’t ask me to send her away. I feel it is my duty to take care of her. I swear she won’t make any trouble.’
‘And what if this—this Will Kelly comes looking for her? What then? Have you not thought of that?’
‘Yes, I have,’ she replied passionately, her lion’s heart pumping hot blood through her body as she leaned forwards, her lovely breasts almost escaping the flimsy lace at the bodice of her gown. For a moment Stephen was totally bewitched and his breeches became uncomfortably tight at the crotch. ‘We must stand up to him,’ she went on, completely unaware of his suffering. ‘You know why he wants Maisie. There are hundreds of disgusting and depraved men who will pay him a fortune for her. Stephen, she is still a child. Please give her a chance. Oh—I truly hope you won’t ask me to take her back to the orphanage because—because it would break my heart.’
Stephen hesitated, uncertain how to reply as Delphine waited expectantly, a small bud of hope blossoming in her heart. He longed to go to her, take her in his arms, tell her of his deep, yearning desire for her, tell her that she was his world and if she would only come to him and tell him she wanted him as much as he wanted her, then she could bring every child in the orphanage to live with them.
‘No doubt you have fed her and bathed her and clothed her and got rid of the lice and whatever infestations she might have?’
Delphine stared at him. ‘Yes, she has been bathed, but she doesn’t have lice or any other infestation. Stephen, you must let her stay. I cannot bear to think of that child being exposed to the likes of Will Kelly.’
‘Dear life, Delphine,’ Stephen said, moved by the intensity of her plea, ‘have I said I would do that?’
‘Then help me. Will Kelly is the most ruthless and dangerous man one could meet. He must have access to almost any woman he wants in his world, for he is handsome enough in a coarse, vulgar kind of way—and there are whores, pretty ones who would be pleased to accommodate his perversions—but he wants Maisie.’
‘Maybe she reminds him of her mother.’ As soon as the words had left his mouth Stephen could have bitten off his tongue for uttering such an unfeeling, insensitive remark. He took a step towards her, holding out his hand. ‘Forgive me. That remark was unfeeling.’
She glared at him, her face rosy, her startling dark eyes brilliant with outrage. ‘I will not let Maisie become a whore.’
Stephen winced. The word she uttered seemed to besmirch her, to sully her own purity. She was no virgin, he acknowledged, remembering the times she had spent in his bed before his return to Spain, but her body had been given to no one but him. She stood still, frozen like a statue, such a look of contempt on her face he wanted to throw himself at her feet in abject apology.
‘I am surprised at you, Stephen. You should be ashamed of yourself for your callous, unchristian attitude. I had no idea you could be so brutal.’
He pa
led visibly beneath her onslaught. Her words were arrows that pierced his heart. ‘You are at liberty to think so. That is your prerogative, but—’
‘Yes, it is,’ she cut in, carried away by her anger, mistaking his attitude and thinking he wanted to send Maisie away when he had no intention of doing so. ‘I am appalled by your attitude. Appalled and deeply shocked, for I mistakenly thought you were different. For the time being I will have the housekeeper put Maisie to work in the kitchen and there she will stay under Cook’s supervision until we leave for Tamara. When she is old enough to make up her own mind about her future, she can do whatever she chooses to do, but until that time she is as much my responsibility as Lowenna.’
She was ablaze with fury and Stephen felt an even greater passion arise within him. He wanted to go to her, tear the clothes off her, throw her on to the bed and subjugate her to his will. His will. Dear Lord, she was glorious in her fury, her magnificent deep-red hair flowing about her shoulders and down the curve of her spine like a vibrant, living mass. But the army had instilled him with a discipline and self-control that he could not fight.
‘You are mistaken, Delphine. Lowenna is our responsibility.’
‘And Maisie is mine.’
She did not allow him the opportunity to respond; without another word she whirled around and hurried from the room.
* * *
Stephen listened to her footsteps dying away until there was silence. Shaking his head, his eyes lit on the letter he had received from Spain—a letter that was no longer of any interest to him.
Deciding to give her a moment to cool down before confronting her again, he wandered to the window. The remark he had made about Maisie’s resemblance to her mother had been insensitive and he wondered how he could have said anything so crass. But it was too late. He had said it, though it was not in his nature to be callous. Pushing his hand through his hair, he stared sightlessly down into the quiet street. Did she really think he would turn the child away?
Miss Cameron's Fall from Grace Page 17