A Poor Girl's Peril (#4, the Winds of Misery Victorian Romance) (A Family Saga Novel)

by Dorothy Green

  “I thank you for your kindness sir. I am terrified and exhausted. I wish to be alone in my grieving of my friends, they were the only family I had.” A tear moved down her cheek.

  “I am sorry for your loss, but save the theatrics for your next theater group.”

  The detective opened the door and walked out. She was so angry, but there was nothing that she could do but cry. It was official, her dear Mr and Mrs Douvain and Nancy were gone. All she could think about was that hopefully they died in their sleep from breathing in the smoke and felt no pain, because she could not stand to have them burned alive and conscious during it. In that moment she was grateful that Katrina had married, and was no longer living at the theater. She and Katrina had been through a lot and she couldn’t bear having that sort of fate happen to her.

  She sat back down, put her face in her hands, and cried. She was truly alone in the world again. What would she do?

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  Indeed Adeline slept badly that night, on the floor wrapped in the small blanket. She was grateful that it was the middle of summer, so the room was not too cold. The next morning she awoke to the detective pushing her awake.

  “You are free to go, Miss Simmons.”

  “What?” She wiped the sleep from her eyes.

  “You are free to go.”

  Adeline stood up to her feet. She was still trying to wake up and confused about where she was, then it all flooded back to her. That she had lost everyone she loved and knew in the fire, as well as anything she owned.

  “I am free to go?”

  “Yes, as I have said many times. Now you must go, we need this room for another investigation.”

  “But where will I go? My home burned down.”

  “That is not my concern.” The detective opened the door, waiting for her to walk through it.

  “The building? Is there anything left of it?”

  “I have not seen it myself. But from what I heard it is nothing but a pile of rubble.”

  Adeline nodded her head, and walked away. She knew that she should be grateful for her freedom, and that they were not going to throw her in jail for thinking that she somehow was responsible for the fire. But at the same time she was very scared about walking out the main door of Scotland Yard. She had nowhere to go. She was destitute. She had no money, and no possessions. But she had to see it for herself; she had to see the building.

  She walked out onto the streets of London, making her way several blocks across the city, until finally she came to the street that she had called home for so long. She could smell the scent of smoke and ash. It was very strong. As she rounded the corner, and came to the block, she was completely shocked.

  The entire row of buildings was gone. In their place were piles of burned timber and brick. These were her neighbours, and she would barely recognize the area, if it weren’t for the houses across the street. There were many people picking through the rubble, and she knew that those were not people that lived in those homes. They were scavenging.

  Then she remembered that it wasn’t just bank notes that the theater took in, but coin. And she knew exactly what area of the house the money box was kept. She quickened her step, toward the end of the row where her home once stood. She gasped. “No. No, this can’t be,“ she said looking at a large pile of burnt brick and timber piled on top of each other. It was just too sad to look at. It rocked her through her core. She didn’t even know if the bodies of those burned had been carried off by the officials or if they had burned completely.

  Many people scavenged through the rubble, and it made her angry. None of these items belong to them.

  “Stop. This is my home. These belong to my family, get out of here,” she shouted at the many dirty faces going through the rubble. They stopped to look at her, but they continued scavenging. For what could a small girl with a petite frame like her really do? She was exhausted, so tired, and so confused.

  She climbed onto the rubble, searching in the back area of the house for the moneybox. But the heavy bricks and heavy wood were not easy to lift. She went to the area of the home that would have been her room. She searched and scavenged herself, finding nothing. If any jewelry, money, or anything of value had survived the fire then it was long gone, picked off from the people that were looking through for anything they could take. Damn those police for keeping her overnight, they made it so that she could not even collect her possessions if any remained. She had nothing.

  Looking at her black hands, she was now worse off than she was before. She noticed people looking at her, people that she recognized, they were the neighbours that had lost homes. They gave her very dirty looks and already thought badly of her because she was an actress. She needed to get away from there. She climbed out of the rubble and down the street far from them.

  What will you do now Adeline? You have nothing and no one. If only...

  Katrina. I could go to Katrina at Brentwood Manor. She would definitely take me and of course, she is like a sister.

  Adeline suddenly felt a weight lift from her. But how could she get to Hertfordshire County in the north, so far from London. She had no money to take the post carriage. She felt too frightened to journey on foot, especially after what happened to Katrina when she tried the very same thing, when she left her own home. Katrina had been captured by bandits and sold to the brothel where they had met. The roads were a very dangerous place for a woman travelling alone. No, she would have to get word to Katrina. Perhaps Katrina could send her money so that she could pay her way by carriage to Brentwood Manor.

  But then she remembered that Katrina was travelling with her husband Captain Mason Byers. The last letter of correspondence she had received from Katrina was only a few days before letting her know that they were going to be on Mason’s merchant ship travelling to Europe for three months. He was a merchant in trade, bringing back goods from various areas of Europe to sell in England.

  Therefore they would not be at Brentwood, ruling out Katrina coming to her aid anytime soon. Still, she should manage to send a letter as soon as may be so that it was waiting for Katrina when she did arrive, even though that would not be for three months’ time. But where would she get pen and paper? How would she pay the cost of the post to send the letter? She had nothing.

  Adeline continued to walk, she did not have a destination. Her grief and confusion had a hold of her, and she simply walked to continue to walk. She found herself in the park, on the east side of the city. Looking the way she did, practically in rags and covered in soot, she would not be welcomed at a park such as Hyde Park, a place that she went many times with the Douvains. No, she knew that she would be more obliged to sit on a park bench in the Cheapside, or White Chapel boroughs. So that is where she found herself. She just needed to sit and think. You must put a plan together.

  But every time she tried to think of what she should do next she would burst into tears thinking about the death of the Douvaines and her dear Nancy. It was too much. She needed a day to grieve at least, before being forced to use her mind.

  The day turned to evening, the evening turned to night. As it became dark she no longer felt safe in the park, and she needed a place to hide, so that she could rest. Not that she would be able to sleep out open in the elements.

  Adeline left the park, walking toward the factory buildings. That’s it. I should line up for work at a factory, and be put in a workhouse. That way at least I would have shelter, food, and work. I would be able to send Katrina the letter after receiving pay, and being put in a workhouse would be absolutely horrible, but it would provide shelter. It would just be temporary.

  She found a row of large factories. She wanted to stay in the area, so that she could line up first thing in the morning. But where could she sleep? The alleys were full of dodgy characters.

  She continued walking until she came upon a stable. Peeking around inside she only saw horses. This would be as good a pla
ce as any. She quietly went inside, not making a sound. A soft heap of hay lay in a corner. Adeline set herself upon it, sitting up against the wall with her eyes focused on the door. She would not be able to sleep, but at least she have shelter from the morning dew of London showers that came unexpectedly and any dodgy characters that would seek to harm her. The animals would stir and make noise if anyone came in and that would be her alarm.

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  How is this happening to you Adeline? You have lost everything. You know no one in the city that would help you. Being an actress has made sure of that. If you were a maid you would have community and someone would take you in and help you get situated in another house.

  Thinking of herself as a maid brought back the memory of the time that she was a maid briefly in the household of the Dawsons called Linwood Manor. In fact William Dawson of that same house was good friends with Katrina‘s husband as it turned out. She had seen William a few times when dining in society, and it was quite awkward. She fancied herself in love with William during the time she was a maid in his household. She thought that he also returned the feelings, though it was never spoken of; no, that would be scandalous. But the way he looked at her and made her feel special; he was the most agreeable man that she had ever met.

  From the moment Adeline laid eyes on William Dawson she sensed that there was something different about this gentleman. It was not just that he had the power, authority, and regal manners that most gentlemen had, though that certainly was true, or that he had the most gentle voice she had ever heard. What Adeline found unsettling was that at certain moments during her tenure of being a maid, his eyes would flip towards her, not long enough to be a stare mind you, but certainly with a degree of some sort of focus which an inexperienced young maid of her age might construe as more than a casual look toward ones maid.

  At first Adeline responded, as a maid would under the circumstances. She would lower her gaze and continue to do her work, as was required. Adeline Simmons, so she was called at the time before she adopted the name Proctor, had no more notion of what his glances toward her might mean than any other woman in his employ. She did not think much of it, except for some wishful thinking.

  But then one day when she had been cleaning the library of William Dawson as he worked at his desk, there was an exchange between them, one that she could never have expected.

  It was a very nice summer day in June, and bright light poured into the library from this sunny day. Adeline felt a strange feeling overcome her as if the sunlight was beckoning her to be bold. For this very reason, when she caught the gaze of William Dawson, she did not lower her eyes to her work, instead she stared right back at him-bold, very bold indeed. She tilted her head slightly, she had never flirted with a man before, let alone a wealthy man that was her employer, and she was intimidated by her own brave maneuver to say the least. In fact, her breath quickened as she started to feel alarmed.

  She noticed that William Dawson, who is quite the genteel sort of gentleman and not at all like the men who he called friends who seemed to be very dominant and owned every room, seemed quite off guard by this.

  To Adeline’s astonishment, he dropped the quill in his hand onto his desk that made a loud clatter. This caused Adeline to smile slightly. William shuffled the papers on his desk and cleared his throat. His thick full lips curved into a slight smile.

  Adeline felt the blood rush up toward her cheeks, her bosom, and neck as she tangled with a slight embarrassment. She had the dreadful feeling that everyone on the staff and the entire Dawson family would notice that they had had this exchange even though they were completely alone in the room.

  “Oh brother, I must commandeer your attentions for this problem I am having, you must come straight away,” Louisa Ashford, William’s sister, stuck his her head in the door and Adeline quickly jolted back to dusting the books and being invisible.

  “Yes, of course,” William stood from his desk and followed his sister out, but if Adeline had looked she would have seen him give her one last glance.

  But that was before things turned dark, yes very dark indeed. Mr Ashford, the husband of Louisa Ashford, took it upon himself to be a most disagreeable man. He had thrown himself on Adeline; something that she would call assault. But when they were found, Mr Ashford made known that it was Adeline that had thrown herself upon him, in order to get at his riches and wealth.

  She pleaded and raged the truth, but no one believed her. It broke her heart that William did not believe her. Louisa and her awful sister Eleanor threw Adeline out as quick as may be. She was on her own, just as she now found herself. But that had seemed so long ago and she had grown to the comfort of having others taking care of her, and she felt as though she had lost her streetwise manners. She needed to remember them and use them now.

  If only Mr Ashford had not stayed at Linwood Manor, that would never have happened. She would still be an acquaintance of William’s. She had not seen him since...

  “But of course, the Davis’! Why did I not think of that before?”

  It had been many months since I had seen them, but they were acquaintances, and at one time close friends. Indeed at one point I thought the younger brother Robert Davis to fancy me. The younger sister Wilhelmina had taken quite the attachment to Katrina and I, and at one time we were of their society. But it had faded, could I call upon them now?

  Adeline lay back against the soft hay feeling some relief. In the morning she would make her way to the Davis house located in Mayfair. Truly it would be quite humiliating to show up looking as she did, but with the news of the theater burning down they could not judge her. She had no doubt that they would take her in and help her contact Katrina, and possibly loan a carriage for her to make her way to Brentwood. Yes, that was quite the plan indeed. If she had to spend one night out in the elements, in a stable, so be it. In the morning she would be right as rain.

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  Adeline found herself feeling quite inadequate in the very posh borough of Mayfair. It was true that she was there to ask for assistance from the Davis family, but she did not like feeling as such. She had been used to attending a lavish dinner in a nice gown, not in the brown and plain dress she found herself in, with the dirt on her face. Indeed this was something altogether different, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

  She tried to straighten the buttons down the front of the dress, and licked her hands to push her hair back into a bun as she walked down the pavement of the Mayfair area. Men and women alike moved aside as they walked in their fine clothing, staring at her in disgust. Adeline kept her eyes on the cobblestones in front of her walking as fast as she could. Just a few more steps and it would all be over. Of course they would take her in, they had been good friends at one time and she could consider them acquaintances.

  She found herself knocking on the front door of the regal home in the morning. A few moments later a servant answered. Adeline wished that she had met the servants the few times she had entertained at the Davis house, but she had not.

  “I am here to call upon Wilhelmina Davis,” She said.

  The servant looked at her up and down with horror on her face. “What is the likes of you calling on Miss Wilhelmina for? You ain’t got no business here. Now off with you.”

  “Yes I do. I know I do not look it now, but I was in a fire and lost all my clothing. This dress is what Scotland Yard issued me before letting me go. Just tell Miss Wilhelmina that Miss Adeline Simmons Proctor is here to see her. She knows me well and we are acquainted, I assure you.”

  The servant looked at her up and down still processing whether Adeline was telling the truth or not.

  “Or if she is not available you may tell Mr Robert Davis, or Mr Andrew Davis that I am here to call upon them. They are acquaintances as well.”

  Satisfied that she must be of some acquaintance to know all the names of the family, and to speak so well and elo
quently, the servant finally gave her a real answer.

  “It don’t matter Miss, they not to be in the house. They are at Brighton for the summer. Getting out of these hot dreary days. I can leave a message that you called when they return, but they will not be returning for several months now.”

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  “Brighton. But of course,” Adeline said, knowing that all the fine families often went away for the summer to the seaside towns in order to escape the humid heat of London in the summer. Her hopes had been dashed. Now what would she do?

  “Well would you be so good to allow me to come in and write a note to them, and that can then be dispatched by post to them at Brighton.”

  “No, I am sorry I can do no such thing. That is too familiar for a stranger. I am sorry for your loss, Miss. But they won’t be returning and there’s nothing I can do for you. If you be telling the truth. I have my position to protect and cannot be let go from my work here because I made a mistake letting riff raff in. Good day to you.” The door shut in Adeline’s face.

  What is to become of me? Adeline turned from the door and walked down the street. The eyes of those looking at her felt ever more penetrable than before. Before she thought it was temporary, that when she got inside the Davis house everything would be all right and she could put a plan into action. But now, all hope was lost once again. What would she do now?

  Adeline headed east, back toward the docks and Cheapside and White Chapel, where she wouldn’t get the looks that she got in Mayfair. She had to put another plan into action, getting work at a factory or finding shelter in a workhouse. All she needed was just a few pence, and then she could buy paper and ink, and postage to send word to Katrina at Brentwood, as well as the Davis in Brighton.