by Dilly Court
‘Excellent. If you could be ready by nine o’clock I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.’
‘Come along, my boy. I’m looking forward to this.’ Robert held the door open and he followed Rufus out onto the landing. ‘Sleep tight, Nettie, my dear.’
She breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed on them and sat back on the sofa, staring into the fire. What a day it had been, starting with the exciting news that her book had been accepted by the publishers, and then breakfast with Rufus and their visit to his new home – but then it had all been spoiled. She should have known after her last visit to the Norwoods’ home that Rufus would do anything to please his parents and ensure the success of the family business, even if it meant marrying an heiress.
Nettie leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes. She was just drifting off to sleep when someone knocked on the door and Byron burst into the room.
‘Congratulations, Nettie. I’m so proud of you,’ he said, smiling. ‘I met your father in the entrance hall and he told me about the book. I knew you could do it.’ He held up a parcel wrapped in newspaper. ‘He said you were feeling a bit poorly, so I thought some supper might make you feel better and I went to get fish and chips.’
Nettie stared at him dazedly, still half asleep. ‘Did Pa tell you that Rufus has offered him a job?’
‘He did indeed.’ Byron sat down beside her and began to unwrap the package. ‘This smells so good.’
‘Did he tell you that I’m to work for Norwood’s Brewery as well, writing slogans?’
‘Are you mad?’ Byron stared at her aghast. ‘You’ve just had your book accepted by one of the most prestigious publishers in London and now you’re going to write slogans for a brewery? How low can you stoop?’
‘That’s a horrible thing to say. I’m still going to write my stories, but if Pa is prepared to forgo his ambition as an artist and concentrate on a commercial venture, it seems only fair to support him.’
‘Or perhaps you’re more interested in helping Norwood to establish himself in his new venture?’
‘Are you jealous, Byron? If so, you need not be. Rufus is about to become engaged.’
‘Then I pity his bride-to-be. For a man who’s supposed to have his heart set on marriage he seems to give you a great deal of attention.’
‘That’s not fair, Byron. I expected better from you.’
‘I’m sorry, Nettie. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that I care so much and I worry about you.’
Her anger melted at the sight of his downcast expression and she reached out to hold his hand. ‘I’m not upset. You are my very best friend.’
‘But that’s all?’
‘I can’t think about it now, Byron. From now on I’m going to concentrate on my writing and taking care of Pa, as I have done ever since I can remember.’ She squeezed his fingers. ‘The fish and chips smell wonderful. Do you mind if we eat now? I’m starving.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Robert had come in late the previous evening, waking Nettie from a deep sleep as he staggered across the room and tripped over the mat, diving headlong into his studio. She heard him grunt as he scrambled to his feet and he closed the door with a loud thud. Nettie had lain awake for a while but then sleep had claimed her once again, although she awakened early and was getting ready to meet Rufus. All was quiet in her father’s room, and it seemed that he was sleeping off the excesses of the previous evening.
She lit the fire and put the kettle on the trivet, and was about to make a pot of tea when someone hammered on the door. She went to open it and Pip burst in, followed by two men dressed in funereal black. The tallest of the pair was stick-thin with a pale face and drooping ginger moustache. His companion was almost the exact opposite, small, plump, rosy-cheeked and fresh-faced as a boy, although a black eye patch and a scar running from the corner of his mouth to his chin gave him an oddly sinister appearance.
‘I don’t know what your pa’s been up to, Nettie,’ Pip said grinning. ‘But I think Ma has sent her boys to sort him out. They knocked on our door by mistake.’
‘It’s all right, Pip. I know what this is about.’ She glanced at the tall, thin man. ‘I’m Nettie Carroll, Mr Burton.’
He clicked his heels together and bowed. ‘I am Francis Burton and this is my brother, Ernest. Ma said you needed our services.’
Pip whistled through his teeth. ‘Good Lord, Nettie. Are you joining the gang?’
‘Certainly not.’ Nettie turned to the Burton brothers, trying hard to keep a straight face. They looked like a pair of undertakers and it was hard to imagine them as the vicious brutes their mother depicted. ‘I need to find Samson Wegg,’ she said softly.
‘He’s a bad man.’ Ernest’s voice was high-pitched like a girl’s and he had a slight lisp.
Nettie shot a warning glance in Pip’s direction as he snorted with suppressed laughter.
‘Yes, I know that, but the person I want him to find for me is equally rotten, and I want him caught and brought to justice.’
Pip backed out of the room. ‘I’ve got to get to work. I’ll see you later, Nettie.’ He went to stand in the doorway, seeming reluctant to leave her alone with the notorious criminals.
‘We don’t deal with the cops,’ Francis said bluntly. ‘We ain’t their friends.’
‘All I’m asking is for you to find Samson Wegg and ask him to contact me. I’ll make it worth his while.’
‘We don’t do nothing for nothing.’ Ernest’s voice rose higher and his colour deepened. ‘We ain’t cheap.’
‘If you can wait until my book is published I’ll be able to pay you well enough,’ Nettie said in desperation. Now that Pa had a chance to earn an honest living, it was even more important to see Duke safely behind bars.
‘You write books?’ Ernest asked eagerly. ‘What sort of books do you write, miss?’
‘I don’t think you’d be interested,’ Nettie said vaguely. She could see Pip hovering in the doorway and straining his ears to hear their conversation. She knew he would tease her mercilessly when he found out that she wrote novels.
‘Do you think my brother is too stupid to read a book?’ Francis demanded angrily.
‘No, no, of course not. But my books would appeal more to ladies than to gentlemen. They are romances.’
Ernest clasped his hands together and his berry-bright eyes gleamed. ‘I enjoy a good love story, but it must have a happy ending.’
‘Sad stories are no good. They make him cry, and if my brother cries I get very angry.’ Francis glared at Nettie and she backed away.
‘My book isn’t published yet, but if he wishes I’ll allow Ernest to have a look at my first effort at novel writing. It was turned down by the publisher, but perhaps he can give me his opinion.’
‘Really?’ Ernest’s lips twisted into a lop-sided grin. ‘I’d like that, miss.’
‘It’s Nettie to my friends.’
‘Don’t let Ernie fool you,’ Francis said darkly. ‘My brother is a killer at heart and so am I.’
‘I’d like a cup of tea,’ Ernest said meekly. ‘If it ain’t too much trouble.’
‘The kettle is almost boiling. I was making some for myself anyway.’ Nettie made the tea while Ernest sat on the sofa and read avidly.
Francis stood by the window, peering at the street below. He turned his head to stare at his brother. ‘How long are you going to be, Ernie? We got other business to do.’
‘Don’t hurry me, Frank.’ Ernest looked up at Nettie with a serious expression on his curiously child-like face. ‘It’s good, but I can see why it wasn’t accepted, Nettie. I could make a few suggestions, if you don’t mind.’
‘Really?’ She stared at him, torn between amusement and shock to think that an allegedly vicious killer could help when it came to romantic prose. ‘I’d be interested to hear your views.’
‘Would you?’ His lips trembled. ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I’ll have to tell Ma.’
‘But, Frank, I’m enjoying meself, and I was looking forward to a nice hot cup of tea.’ Ernest sent a pleading look to Nettie. ‘Do you have any biscuits or cake? I have a very sweet tooth.’
‘Anyone would think you was a sissy to hear you talk, brother. If we don’t get down there and stop him, Jugs will have a set-to and them porters are tough blokes – it could turn nasty, and we don’t want the coppers to get their hands on him. He knows too much.’
‘All right. I’m coming.’ Ernest handed the manuscript back to Nettie with a sigh. ‘May I come again? I’d like to finish the story and I’m sure I can help you to make it even better.’
‘Of course. Come any time you like.’
He rose to his feet. ‘And I like baldigarry biscuits.’
‘He means Garibaldi,’ Francis said curtly. ‘You’re an idiot, Ernest. I don’t know why I put up with you. Come along or we’ll be too late.’
‘I’ll tell Ma you’re bullying me again, Frank.’
Ernest followed his brother from the room, leaving Nettie close to hysteria. They had lived under the threat of retribution from Ma Burton’s gangster sons ever since they moved into the building, but meeting them in person had come as a shock. Still smiling, Nettie stood up and walked over to the window. She wanted to see Jugs Malone for herself, but her smile faltered as she saw the two Burton brothers throw themselves into the fight that had broken out on the pavement below. Nettie was not sure which one was Jugs, but Francis and Ernest were throwing punches that laid out a bunch of tough-looking market porters, leaving them prostrate on the ground. The sound of police whistles and running feet sent those who were still standing to flight, and two constables appeared as if from nowhere. Nettie moved away from the window. Perhaps Ma had not exaggerated after all? She looked round as the door opened and Byron rushed into the room.
‘Are you all right, Nettie? Pip told me that Ma’s boys were here.’
‘Yes, they were, but they’ve gone now.’
‘Those thugs have a bad reputation.’
‘I’m unharmed, as you can see.’
‘You shouldn’t have anything to do with them,’ Byron said, scowling. ‘They’re dangerous.’
‘Ernest sat on the sofa reading the manuscript that the publishers rejected, and he was about to offer me some advice on how to improve it when his brother dragged him away.’ Nettie’s voice broke on a giggle. ‘No, I’m serious, Byron. That’s exactly what happened, and he was cross because he didn’t get his cup of tea. Oh, yes, and he loves Garibaldi biscuits. Now does that sound like someone who’s a danger to society?’
‘You can’t be too careful.’
‘Thanks for worrying, but as you can see, I’m fine.’ She sat down on the sofa and patted the empty space beside her. ‘Tell me about work. I’m afraid I’ve neglected you with all that’s been going on lately.’
He stood for a moment, looking down at her. ‘Are you really interested in me? Or are you simply being kind?’
‘Of course I want to know how you’re doing. Nothing has changed.’
He sat down, leaving a space between them. ‘Everything has changed, Nettie. You may not realise it, but it’s obvious to me. Once I thought we would be together for ever, but now I realise that I was mistaken.’
‘How can you say that?’
‘You don’t love me.’
‘I do care about you, Byron.’
‘It’s not the same, is it?
‘I don’t know. Why are you saying these things?’
‘Because they’re true. After what you said yesterday I realised that you don’t need me.’
‘That’s not true. I haven’t changed.’ She reached out to hold his hand. ‘What are you trying to tell me, Byron? I can tell there’s something on your mind.’
‘I’ve decided that the law isn’t for me. I was prepared to give it another go and work hard when I thought there might be a future for us, but I’ve always struggled with the dreary day-to-day routine, and when we were away on our travels I felt like a different man. I found my family and discovered my roots.’
Nettie met his intense gaze and a cold shiver ran down her spine. ‘You’re going away again, aren’t you?’
He smiled and squeezed her fingers. ‘I am more like my mother than I could have thought possible. Perhaps I’m a water gypsy at heart like my forebears? All I know is that I need to get away from London. I’ve given up my position at the law office and I intend to return to France. I’m going to join my mother and Aristide.’
‘Are you sure that’s what you want, Byron?’
‘Absolutely certain.’
She stared at him, momentarily shocked into silence. A future without her dearest friend was unthinkable, but she could see how much it meant to him and she made an effort to hide her true feelings.
‘I think that’s the bravest thing I ever heard, and your mother will be delighted.’
Byron smiled ruefully. ‘I wish things were different between us, Nettie, but I know when I’m beaten.’
She shook her head. ‘You’re not the loser. You’ll be doing what you were meant to do, and I’m just glad you have the opportunity to follow your heart.’ It hurt her to say so, but she knew she must not hold him back. ‘What do the others say? Have you told them?’
‘Not yet. You’re the first to know, but Pip is set on becoming an articled clerk and Ted is getting engaged to Amelie Fabron. He always seems to go for flighty women, but he says he’s in love with her and she returns the affection, so I wish him good luck.’
‘He’s welcome to a mother-in-law like Violet, but perhaps Amelie will make him a good wife, once she’s settled down.’
‘So we part as friends, Nettie?’ Byron stood up, pulling Nettie to her feet.
‘The very best of friends,’ she said, fighting back tears.
He wrapped her in a warm embrace, and then he was gone.
Nettie stood silently, staring at the closed door. She could hear his footsteps pounding on the bare boards until the sound faded into a memory, and it felt like the end of an era. With Byron gone and her father working in an office somewhere in the city, life would never be quite the same. She missed Constance and Percy, but losing Byron would be the harshest blow of all. Working on her book had to be the answer to her problems, both emotional and financial. She would be independent and able to live her own life, but somehow the idea failed to thrill her, and literary success came a poor second to love.
She glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf, realising with a start that she was supposed to be meeting Rufus. She put on her bonnet, but checking her appearance in the mirror she was shocked to see how pale and drawn she looked. She pinched her cheeks to bring some colour to her face and forced her lips into a smile, but her eyes remained sad and soulful. Saying goodbye to Byron was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she must be happy that he had found his place in the world. She snatched up her cape and reticule and hurried downstairs, but there was no one waiting in the entrance hall, and she knocked on Lisette’s door. Perhaps Rufus had given up and left for the office, mistaking her lateness for reluctance to accompany him? She knocked again and this time she heard footsteps and the door opened.
‘Come in, Nettie.’ Rufus ushered her into the tiny vestibule. ‘There’s someone I think you’ll be interested to meet.’
Nettie followed him into the parlour, fearing the worst. She half expected to see his fiancée seated on the sofa, but to her astonishment she came face to face with Wegg, who was standing with his back to the fire. She turned to Rufus, unable to conceal her astonishment. ‘How did you find this man?’
‘I had a word with Ma Burton. She obliged, for a small fee.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Nettie said in a low voice.
Wegg cleared hi
s throat noisily. ‘I can’t think what you want with me, missy. I ain’t your man, whatever it is you want, but this gent insisted I come here this morning.’ He shot a malicious glance in Rufus’s direction. ‘Threatened me, he did, and used words what I never thought to hear from the lips of a toff.’
‘Well, I’m very glad to see you, Mr Wegg, although I never thought I’d say so, but I’m desperate to find Duke Dexter. You are the only one I could think of who might be able to help.’
Wegg eyed her with a calculating grin. ‘How much is it worth?’
Nettie hesitated, calculating how much she could afford, but Rufus stepped in between them.
‘Name your price, Wegg. If it’s too much you’ll find yourself back on the street where you belong.’
‘All right, mister. No need to be unpleasant.’ Wegg frowned and his thick black eyebrows met over the bridge of his nose. He moved his fingers like a child learning how to count. ‘Fifty sovs should do it, including expenses.’
‘Fifty pounds! That’s ridiculous,’ Nettie said hastily.
‘You seem very confident, Wegg.’ Rufus eyed him suspiciously. ‘You know where Dexter is, don’t you?’
‘What if I do? That’s for me to know, and if I deliver him to you I expect to be paid.’
‘Twenty pounds,’ Rufus said firmly.
‘Twenty-five,’ Wegg countered.
Nettie shook her head. ‘Ten pounds, and if, as I suspect, he’s in London and you bring him to the Lamb and Flag at noon, I’ll cancel my arrangement with the Burton brothers. I’ve just hired them to find you, and from what I’ve seen it’s wisest not to offend Ma’s boys.’
‘Ten quid it is, but call them off and I’ll bring Dexter to the pub. It just so happens I’ve been following him for reasons of me own, so I know where to find the cove.’
Rufus nodded. ‘You’ll get your money on delivery.’
Wegg backed towards the doorway. ‘You’ll be sure to call the hounds of hell off, won’t you, miss? I ain’t easily scared, but Ma’s boys frighten the life out of me, as they do anyone who’s had dealings with them.’