The Dressmaker’s Secret

by Charlotte Betts

  A woman shouted out, ‘God bless Queen Caroline!’ and the cry was taken up by others until it became a resounding chorus. I joined in wholeheartedly, my tears mingling with the rain.

  Alessandro reached for my hand and I grasped his as another four mourning coaches, a trumpeter blowing a mournful salute, various sodden dignitaries on foot and eighteen mounted soldiers passed by. I wasn’t sure, but I believed I saw Lady Hamilton and Willy Austin at the window of one of the coaches.

  ‘The Queen always faced her enemies so bravely,’ said Alessandro, wiping his eyes. ‘I shall miss her. Little Victorine will be inconsolable.’

  The funeral procession jerked to a sudden halt. Angry shouts came from the front.

  ‘What’s happening?’ I asked.

  ‘I can’t see,’ said Alessandro as the muttering of the crowd grew louder.

  A man balanced on top of the park gates yelled out, ‘They’re coming back!’

  The cavalcade slowly turned around, carriage by carriage, and headed towards the gates again.

  ‘Perhaps there were too many people for the procession to push through without injuring someone,’ said Alessandro. He stood on tip-toe, peering ahead, while I glanced at the familiar lines of his firm jaw and high cheekbones. I longed to reach up and touch his face.

  The crowd surged through the gates before the cavalcade reached it. There were yells as the press of people from behind propelled us forward and I struggled to stay upright, frightened we’d be crushed underfoot.

  Alessandro’s hand, wet with rain, slipped from mine as I was dragged away from him. A moment of pure panic washed over me when I was lifted up as if by a tidal wave. Just as suddenly I was deposited on the ground again as the crowd shoved through the park gates and we came out on the other side like a cork popping from a bottle. I hurried to a patch of open grass. Men and women ran past and a child shrieked without stopping. I looked wildly around for Alessandro.

  ‘Emilia!’

  I heard his shout and spun around to see him hurrying towards me.

  He caught me to his chest, his face full of consternation. ‘Are you hurt?’

  I shook my head, showering him with raindrops from my bonnet.

  ‘This country!’ he said, making a face of disgust. ‘Does it ever stop raining? Let’s move out of the way until the crowd thins and then I’ll escort you home.’

  We stood back, seeking shelter from the rain under an oak tree, though I was already wet through to my shift. The procession moved slowly by, going north along the carriageway running parallel to Park Lane.

  A mass of people ran past and a man on horseback cantered by, yelling, ‘To Cumberland Gate! Stop the procession at Cumberland Gate!’

  The rain abated a little and I pulled at Alessandro’s hand. ‘Let’s see what’s going on.’ We walked briskly alongside the procession.

  Hoarse shouts of, ‘Through the city!’ and ‘Shut Cumberland Gate!’ came from all sides as the seething multitude rushed towards the north side of the park.

  The funeral cavalcade began to move faster and we ran to keep abreast as it proceeded at an unseemly pace towards Cumberland Gate.

  The Guards galloped past, their horses’ hooves kicking up clods of turf behind them and spattering the spectators with mud. In turn spectators threw stones at the soldiers’ backs. A horse squealed and reared up, its forelegs flailing, terrifying those who couldn’t move away fast enough.

  With their feet slipping on the muddy ground, some men laboured to grip hold of the soldiers’ mounts and wrestled with their bridles to make them halt. Others clung on to the Queen’s hearse, knocking down the mutes and turning the terrified horses around yet again so that the cavalcade was facing in the direction of the city.

  There was a crack of thunder and the heavens yawned. All around us bellowing men and soldiers brawled in the torrential rain. The mob rocked the mourning coaches and dragged the soldiers off their whinnying horses.

  A shot rang out.

  The crowd went silent for a fraction of a second and then roared in anger.

  More soldiers galloped into the park from the nearby barracks, shouting, ‘Clear the way!’

  I caught my breath in fright as a great brute of a grey brushed my arm when it raced past. The smell of sweating horseflesh hung in the air after it had gone.

  The soldiers let out another round of shots and Alessandro shouted, ‘Let’s go!’

  Women screamed and then all descended into chaos. People ran in all directions, slipping and falling in the mud, desperate to get away as more shots echoed through the air. A man yelled and I was knocked down to the muddy grass and trampled in the rush.

  Winded, I pulled myself into a sitting position as booted feet raced past. A horse pranced on the spot, inches away from my face. Terrified, I looked up at the underside of its belly while I heaved for breath. A deafening volley of shots rang out overhead. The horse galloped away and people all around me screamed and shrieked.

  I crawled on all fours through the mud to find a place of safety but my cape and skirt were tangled around my legs. My bonnet was lost somewhere and my hair fell over my face in sodden strands. Yelling soldiers on horseback milled amongst the scattered crowd, carbines and pistols at the ready. I looked around for Alessandro amongst the confusion but couldn’t see him.

  Horrified, I saw a man on the ground thrashing about in agony as his companions attempted to staunch the blood gushing from his thigh. A little way off a woman sat on the ground comforting a fallen man. Blood ran from his head.

  My breath was catching in my breast but fear gave me the strength to push myself to my feet. Shaking, I leaned against a tree and scanned the crowd in desperation while I prayed under my breath. And then I saw him.

  ‘Alessandro!’ I screamed. Pushing my way through the milling crowd, I fell to my knees at his side. He was slumped on the ground against the park railings, his eyes closed and his coat front scarlet. Sobbing, I cradled him in my arms while terror froze the blood in my veins.

  Chapter 34

  The kitchen in Great Marlborough Street was clean and dry and smelled of the comforting aroma of the apple pie cooling on the scrubbed pine table. The cook, a monstrously fat woman stuffed into a clean apron, stood watching me with her hands on her hips. ‘He’ll do,’ she said, as I finished winding the bandage around Alessandro’s upper arm and tied the end in a knot.

  The wound would leave an ugly scar and it made me want to weep to see Alessandro’s beautiful smooth skin damaged. But it might have been so much worse.

  ‘It’s only a graze,’ he murmured, though his face was alarmingly white.

  ‘A deep one,’ I said.

  Pain and blood loss had made him faint several times and it had taken over an hour for us to reach his employer’s house. Now that he was safe, I trembled with the delayed shock.

  ‘I’ve never heard of such a disgraceful thing, soldiers firing into the crowd like that,’ said the cook. ‘Sounds as if you got away lightly by all accounts, but you’ve both had a bad fright. I’m going to make you a nice pot of tea. And you, miss, can go in the scullery and have a bit of a wash. Lizzie will bring you some hot water.’ She looked me up and down. ‘You could be one of them mudlarks after a day spent scavenging by the river.’

  I looked down at my skirt but didn’t see how ‘a bit of a wash’ could possibly make me look presentable. ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Tea would be most welcome.’

  ‘We need to get on with preparing the dinner and you’ll be in our way here,’ she said brusquely. ‘You can have a sit in the kitchen office while you drink your tea.’

  Ten minutes later I had mopped the front of my dress, washed my face and combed my tangled hair with my fingers. The cook, Mrs Bowker, had sat us down in her tiny office and the kitchen maid brought us a tea tray, leaving the door ajar behind her.

  My hands shook so much the cup rattled in the saucer.

  Alessandro took it from me with his left hand. ‘Emilia,’ he said, ‘it’s all r
ight. We’re both safe.’

  ‘Will your employers be angry with you?’

  He shook his head. ‘Since I’d been in the Queen’s employ they gave me the day off to observe the funeral procession. I must be fit to undertake my duties again tomorrow. What about you? Will your father be angry?’ He smiled, and for a moment his face was lit by mischievous humour just as it used to be. ‘Mrs Bowker was right – you do look like a mudlark.’

  ‘Father is out of town today so I hope to return before he does.’ I sipped the scalding tea and burned my tongue. ‘Alessandro…’

  He reached out and laid his hand on my wrist. ‘I know. There are many things to discuss.’

  Little shivers ran through me as he caressed the delicate skin with his thumb.

  ‘You’ve grown so thin, Emilia,’ he said. ‘You look as fragile as a sparrow. Has finding your family not brought you the contentment you expected?’

  ‘I wrote to tell you what I’d discovered about Dolly, though I still cannot understand how he might have been the one who hurt Sarah. But there are worse things that I haven’t told you,’ I said. ‘Things I’ve discovered about my father.’

  ‘I don’t understand – what things?’

  My mouth trembled. ‘Alessandro, I’m frightened!’

  ‘Tell me.’

  His sudden gentleness was more than I could bear and my face crumpled.

  ‘Don’t, Emilia! I can’t bear to see you cry.’ He stroked my cheek.

  ‘I hardly know where to start,’ I said. ‘Of course I’ll break off my engagement to Dolly… you see, I found out that he loves someone else… but before that I must go to Langdon Hall, my father’s house in Hampshire.’ The jumbled facts of what my mother had discovered came tumbling out and Alessandro patiently made me stop and asked me questions until he had the whole story straight.

  ‘You’re right to be afraid, Emilia,’ he said at last, pulling me close. ‘You cannot return to that house.’

  ‘But I must! There’s Aunt Maude, you see.’ I leaned against his chest, inhaling the scent of his skin, my pulse skipping to feel him so close. ‘And I have to know if the secret gallery exists. If it does, Father must be brought to justice.’

  ‘And what kind of life will you have here once people know you are the daughter of a thief? Your father’s actions will ruin you!’ He paced away from me to look out of the small window at the teeming rain. ‘I’ve been so unhappy in this city,’ he said. ‘I came here only to find you and make you come home. I never intended to stay. My contract is almost at an end and I shall return to my family gladly. But…’

  ‘But what, Alessandro?’

  ‘My life has no meaning without you in it.’ His voice was quiet and full of hurt. He sat down close beside me. ‘I have regretted every day since you left me that I didn’t let you go with my blessing. It was selfish and wrong of me to try and stop you. I apologise unreservedly. Emilia, I shall ask you one more time and, if you refuse, I’ll never mention it again.’ He cupped my face in his hands so that I had to look at him.

  The pupils of his amber eyes were very black and as I met his gaze it seemed that I looked deep into his soul. I yearned to tell him that I loved him, that I’d never stopped loving him, but I wasn’t quite brave enough.

  ‘Emilia,’ he said, ‘you have my heart in your hands.’

  I sat very still, hardly breathing, while my own heart somersaulted under my ribs.

  ‘You are as necessary to me as water and without your presence I die a little more each day,’ he said. ‘I want nothing more than for us to spend the rest of our lives together. Emilia, my dearest Emilia, please will you marry me?’

  Alessandro still loved me, even after all that had happened between us. All my past fears that he would abandon me, as others had in my past, if I allowed myself to love him entirely, evaporated like mist in sunshine. I had no doubts now; we would put things right between us. I let out a sob of pure joy. ‘Yes, Alessandro,’ I whispered, ‘yes, I will marry you.’

  He released his breath on a long sigh and caught me against his chest before burying his face in my hair. Then his beautiful mouth was warm against my lips and his hungry kiss was so full of passion that I felt as if I was liquefying into a river of molten sunlight.

  At last we drew apart and I was left trembling with wanting him.

  ‘I cannot give you the life of privilege you have become used to,’ he said, ‘but I will do all in my power to bring you happiness.’

  ‘I haven’t been truly happy since I left Italy,’ I said. ‘I certainly haven’t been happy since I left you. And as for my life of privilege: I came to London with nothing and I shall leave with nothing, but if I have your love I shall consider myself the richest girl in the world.’

  ‘But I have such ambitions, Emilia!’ His face glowed. ‘I’ve had so much time to think lately and I want to set up a school to educate poor children. You know how Princess Caroline loved little children? I spoke to her about it on many occasions and she promised to provide funds to help me set it up, but now…’ He sighed.

  ‘Together, somehow, we shall find a way to build your school.’

  He kissed me again, more gently this time.

  As I slid my arms around his neck, the door creaked open.

  ‘Ho! It’s like that, is it?’ said Mrs Bowker with a broad smile.

  A scarlet flush rose in my cheeks.

  ‘Mrs Bowker,’ said Alessandro, ‘may I introduce you to the future Signora Fiorelli?’

  She gave a shout of laughter. ‘Well then, congratulations are in order, I do believe.’

  Alessandro kept a tight hold on my hand while we thanked her.

  ‘I must go home,’ I said.

  ‘I shall walk you,’ said Alessandro.

  Mrs Bowker and I spoke in unison. ‘Oh, no, you won’t!’

  ‘You must rest now, Alessandro.’ I squeezed his hand.

  ‘I’ll send the second footman with you, miss,’ said Mrs Bowker. ‘I’ll call him.’ She winked at Alessandro and left us alone together.

  ‘I expect to go to Hampshire the day after tomorrow,’ I said. ‘I’ll look for the secret gallery and decide what to do about bringing Father to justice. And then I shall tell Dolly I have no intention of marrying him. All the guests will need to be informed that the wedding will not proceed…’ I swallowed at the prospect of the fury and recriminations to come.

  ‘Emilia, I’m worried for you,’ said Alessandro. ‘If you find the proof you’re looking for, you must not challenge your father outright. If what your mother wrote in her diary is true, he may be violent. You must leave Langdon Hall and come straight to me and we’ll speak to the authorities together. Will you promise to do that?’

  I nodded, relieved I wouldn’t have to face Father alone.

  ‘I want to come with you but I’m bound to remain here until the end of the month.’ He chewed his lip and looked at me with worry in his eyes.

  ‘I shall be quite all right,’ I said. ‘Besides, you must rest and let your arm heal. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.’

  Footsteps sounded in the passage outside.

  Alessandro kissed me swiftly. ‘Take great care, cara mia.’

  ‘A presto, amore mio,’ I replied.

  I entered the house by the area door, hoping to return to my room unobserved. The scullery maid, however, gasped at the sight of me and dropped a pan with a clatter.

  ‘It’s all right, Annie,’ I said. ‘I slipped over in the mud. Will you ask Daisy to attend me with some hot water?’

  I crept past the kitchen door with my shoes squelching and hurried upstairs to my room. Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I saw why I’d frightened Annie. My hair hung in dripping rat’s tails, there was blood on my face and my sodden cloak and mourning dress were encrusted with mud. I laughed, thinking how much worse it would have been if I’d been wearing white muslin. I looked into the mirror again. My eyes shone and my cheeks were flushed. Despite my torn and filthy clothes, I hadn’t
looked so happy or pretty since I’d arrived in England. I hugged my arms around myself, hardly able to believe that Alessandro loved me and that, no matter what, soon we would be together.

  Daisy entered with a jug of hot water and her eyes widened. ‘Annie said you’d had a mishap in the mud, miss.’

  ‘I’m afraid my clothes are beyond redemption, Daisy.’

  ‘There’s blood on your face. You’re not hurt, miss?’

  I shook my head. ‘Though others were. I went to see the funeral procession and there was a riot. Soldiers fired on the troublemakers.’