A Mother's Promise (47 page)

His icy tone acted like a shower of cold water and the laughter froze on her lips. She took off her bonnet and shook out her wet hair. ‘Don’t look at me like that, George. I know I don’t deserve your friendship and I’m truly sorry if I’ve treated you badly, but I need your help.’

He stared down at her, unsmiling. ‘What sort of man allows his woman to wander the streets on a night like this? Where is he then, your Yankee boyfriend?’

The harsh tone in his voice and the steely glint in his eyes were almost too much for Hetty to bear, and she lowered her gaze. ‘He doesn’t want me,’ she whispered.

‘What’s that, Hetty? Speak up, I can’t hear you.’

She rose slowly to her feet. ‘You heard me all right, George. I said he doesn’t want me. Charles is engaged to someone else and they had an understanding even before he came to London. Are you happy now?’

‘No. Of course not. What do you take me for, Hetty? I didn’t want to see you hurt any more than I wanted to see you lose your business.’

‘Our business, George. I never forgot that it was both our names over the door.’ She hesitated, turning her head away while
he stepped into his trousers. ‘I’ve been wrong about so many things, but I never meant to hurt you. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you must care about me a little, or you wouldn’t have gone rushing off to see Miss Heathcote.’ She shot him a sideways glance but her heart sank as she encountered his hostile gaze.

‘Don’t use my feelings for you against me.’

‘You’re not being fair, George.’

‘You come here begging for my help, all wet and bedraggled, looking like some damned beautiful mermaid and you call me unfair. Do you really think that you can put everything right by just saying sorry?’

‘But I am sorry. I am sorry that I took you for granted and that I didn’t listen to you.’ She grasped his right hand and held it to her cheek. ‘I am sorry that I hurt you, and I am sorry that I . . .’ Her voice trailed away and she stared at his bruised and scraped knuckles in horror. ‘You’re hurt. Have you been fighting?’

His bleak expression was chased away by a reluctant grin. ‘Let’s just say that I’ve been teaching someone a well-deserved lesson.’

‘Who was it? What have you done?’

‘When Jane told me what had happened, I went straight to Berkeley Square. I was going to make the old girl see me whether she liked it or not, but as I reached the house who should
come slithering down the front steps but Clench and Shipworthy. I knew then where to set the blame and I challenged the bastards. Shipworthy ran off but I caught Clench and we had a chat.’

Hetty ran her fingers lightly over his injuries and she shook her head. ‘It must have been a very rough sort of conversation.’

‘He had it coming to him. He was just lucky that I’m a fair sort of bloke, otherwise I’d have killed the sod for what he did to you.’

Hetty was momentarily taken aback by the suppressed violence in his tone. She had only seen him this angry once before, and that was when he had pitched Clench into the canal. She brushed his injured hand with her lips. ‘You’ve always been there when I needed you, George.’

‘I only did what any man would do for the woman . . .’

Hetty moved closer to him. ‘You do still care about me then?’

‘Of course I bloody care for you, Hetty. I loved you right from the start but you had your head turned by that Charles bloke, and then you got in with Miss Heathcote. Almost overnight you changed from my little match-girl who had set her heart on having her own coffee stall to an ambitious young woman who wanted to mix with the toffs and run a chain of coffee shops.’

‘I know what you say is true, but I realise now that I was wrong.’ Hetty raised her eyes to his face and saw him clearly for perhaps the first time in her life. It was not the cheerful, easy-going fellow who never took anyone or anything seriously she was seeing now – it was a quite different man. This George was a sensitive, kind-hearted and caring person who had stood by her, comforted and protected her. His mask of insouciance had been stripped away, and she was gazing into the eyes of a man who had been deeply wounded by her uncaring indifference to his feelings. It was not just his angry outburst that had brought about the sea-change in her affections. She had been falling in love with George without even realising it, and her passion for Charles had been a mere flight of fancy. Maynard had made her think about who she was and what she really wanted out of life, and the answer was . . . ‘George.’ His name came out in a whisper as Hetty laid her hands on his bare chest. His skin was slicked with water and she could feel his heart beating almost as fast as hers. She slid her arms around his neck, pulling his head down so that their lips met in a tentative kiss. ‘George,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t care about the coffee shops; I don’t care about making money. All I want is you.’

For a brief but intoxicating moment, he
returned her embrace with an almost savage passion that robbed her of breath, but he was the first to pull away and his eyes were dark and unfathomable. ‘No, Hetty.’

‘No? But George, I’ve just told you that I love you. What more do you want?’

He held her gently by the shoulders and his generous lips contorted with pain. ‘If you’d said that a month ago it would have made me the happiest man in the world.’

‘But I’m saying it now. I do love you, George. I suppose I always did but I was dazzled by Charles, and then I got carried away with the excitement of working with Miss Heathcote. I never meant to hurt you. Honour bright!’

This drew a reluctant laugh from him. ‘You’re such a kid.’

‘No. Indeed I am not,’ Hetty cried angrily. ‘Don’t you dare laugh at me, George Cooper.’

‘I’m not laughing at you, and I do believe you mean what you say now, but I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in this state. You need time to get over that cheating swine and you need to put things right with Miss Heathcote before you make any big decisions.’

She clapped her hands to her hot cheeks. ‘Now I feel quite foolish.’

‘No, my darling,’ he said, reaching for his shirt. ‘You may be headstrong and obstinate sometimes, but you are never foolish.’

‘George, I . . .’

He stopped her protest with a kiss and then drew away, clearing his throat. ‘I’d best take you home, girl.’

Confused by a whirling eddy of emotions, Hetty was about to tell him that she was quite capable of finding her own way when the sound of the door opening made her turn her head. A small thin woman bustled into the room. She was dressed for outdoors and carried a wicker basket over her arm. She stared from one to the other with disapproval written all over her lined face. ‘What’s going on here, Mr Cooper?’

‘I was just taking a bath, Mrs Haynes,’ George said, tucking his shirt tails into his trousers.

‘I ain’t blind, Mr Cooper. You know my rules about not entertaining females in this house.’

‘It’s not how it looks,’ Hetty said hastily. ‘I called unexpectedly.’

Mrs Haynes dropped her basket on the table with an ominous scowl. ‘And who are you, may I ask?’

‘Now Mrs Haynes, dear,’ George said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. ‘There’s no need to get yourself in a state. This is my friend Hetty. You’ve heard me mention her, I’m sure.’

Mrs Haynes wriggled free. ‘Mention her? You never talk about anyone else, young man.’

‘Hetty had some bad news and she came to me for advice. I was just about to take her home.’

‘I suppose that’s all right then. I’ll let it go this time, George.’

He leaned over to plant a kiss on her lined cheek. ‘You’re one of the best, my duck.’

‘Oh, get on with you,’ Mrs Haynes said, giggling like a schoolgirl. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting supper when you get back?’

‘I’ll get something at the pub. You put your feet up and rest.’

Mrs Haynes dug Hetty in the ribs with a throaty chuckle. ‘He’s a one, ain’t he? Quite the charmer. I’m just surprised he hasn’t had a string of young women running after him.’

‘I thought he had,’ Hetty murmured.

‘If he has he’s never brought them here. Not that I would allow it anyway. This is a respectable house.’

George shrugged on his jacket. ‘I won’t be long.’

Mrs Haynes grinned, exposing a row of blackened teeth, and then she frowned. ‘Bathtub.’

‘I’ll empty it out as soon as I get back.’ He put his hand in his pocket and took out a three-penny bit. ‘Here, treat yourself to a meat pie or some jellied eels.’

‘You’ll hang on to him if you know what’s
good for you, girl. God broke the mould when he made George,’ Mrs Haynes called after them as they left the room.

‘You’re very free with your money,’ Hetty said once they were outside on the pavement.

‘I treat her every once in a while. She’s a good sort at heart and her old man led her quite a dance until he died in a drunken brawl.’ George pulled up the collar of his jacket and jammed his cap on his head. ‘Come on, let’s get you home, girl. You need a good night’s sleep before you tackle her ladyship in Berkeley Square.’

Hetty slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. ‘It can’t wait that long. If you will just help me find a cab, I’ll go straight there and have it out with her.’

‘Is that wise, Hetty?’

‘Maybe not, but I’m doing it anyway.’

‘Then I’m coming with you.’

‘There’s no point. She won’t see you.’

‘I’m coming anyway. Who knows what lies Clench has fed her? I warned him that I would take it very unkindly if he didn’t own up, but I don’t trust the weasel.’

Hetty knew better than to argue with George when he was in this mood. And he called her stubborn! She squeezed his hand. ‘All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

As luck would have it, they found a cab that
had just dropped a fare off outside the People’s Palace. As she settled herself against the squabs and the cab lurched forward, Hetty uttered a gasp of dismay. ‘I’ve got hardly any money left. I don’t think I’ve got enough to pay the cabby.’

‘Then it’s lucky I had a good day, isn’t it? Don’t fret, ducks. I’ll see you there and home again.’

‘You’re a brick,’ Hetty said, snuggling up against him. The familiar aroma of the market stall clung to his jacket and she laid her head against his shoulder, safe in the knowledge that she had come home. This was where she truly belonged. George still loved her; in her heart she knew that well enough. All she had to do was convince him that she returned his affection tenfold. His arm was around her waist and their bodies swayed with the rhythm of the cab as it sped over the cobbled streets. There was not much traffic about this late in the evening and the journey took a little over half an hour. When they arrived in Berkeley Square Hetty tried to persuade George to wait in the cab, but he insisted on accompanying her. One of the under footmen opened the door and he would have sent them away, but George stuck his foot over the sill. ‘The old girl will see us, mate. You go and tell her that Miss Huggins and Mr Cooper are here.’

Hetty nipped inside smartly before the footman could shut the door. ‘Where’s Hicks?’ she demanded. ‘Let me speak to him.’

She must have raised her voice, as it echoed round the marble hall and Hicks emerged from one of the reception rooms looking distinctly put out. ‘There’s no need to shout, miss.’

Hetty stood her ground. ‘Hicks, we must see Miss Heathcote. Please tell her that we are here.’

‘I’ll tell her, but I don’t think she’ll see you, miss.’ Hicks inclined his head in a polite bow and walked off with a maddeningly slow gait. Hetty paced the floor. She was nervous now and quite dreading a hostile encounter with Miss Heathcote.

George stood by with his hands in his pockets, scowling at the footman. ‘Keep calm,’ Hetty whispered. ‘You won’t impress her with strong-arm stuff.’

‘I won’t start anything, but I’m not letting you face this alone,’ George said in a low voice.

‘Miss Heathcote says she will see you, miss.’

Hetty turned to see Hicks standing at the top of the staircase and she squeezed George’s hand. ‘There, I knew she would. I’ll soon have this sorted out.’

He made as if to follow her, but Hicks held up his hand. ‘No, sir. Just Miss Hetty.’

In the icy splendour of her drawing room,
Miss Heathcote was seated in her chair by the fire with Dorrie standing by her side. Hetty was relieved to see Dorrie looking so well, and she longed to rush over and give her a hug, but there would be time for all that later. She approached Miss Heathcote cautiously. ‘Thank you for seeing me,’ she began hesitantly.

‘Come closer,’ Miss Heathcote said in a querulous voice.

Hetty moved nearer, standing with her hands clasped behind her back as if she were a recalcitrant schoolgirl facing an angry head-mistress. ‘I would like to know what I’m supposed to have done wrong, ma’am.’

Miss Heathcote’s eyes narrowed and she leaned towards Hetty with a disbelieving sneer. ‘As if you did not know. Don’t act the innocent with me, girl. I have proof that you were fiddling the accounts and taking money for yourself.’

‘That’s utter nonsense,’ Hetty cried angrily. ‘Apart from anything else, why would I do that? The business was mine. I would have been robbing myself.’

‘Are you forgetting my part in all this?’

‘No, Miss Heathcote, of course not, but you said that you were not interested in profit. Naturally, you wanted the capital sum repaid, but your main concern was to prove to the men who manage your father’s estate that you were their equal.’

‘That is true, which makes it even more difficult for me to understand why you acted in such an underhand way. I trusted you, Hetty. And you let me down.’

‘No. No, I did not. I was scrupulous in attending to the accounts and banking the money. I was in America when all this happened anyway, so how could I be the culprit?’

‘Yes, you were away chasing after that man.’ Miss Heathcote laughed but there was no humour in the sound. ‘You returned very quickly, so I assume that the scoundrel let you down. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘Yes, everything you say is true. Charles was just toying with my affections and I made a complete fool of myself. Does that satisfy you, Miss Heathcote? Do you enjoy seeing me suffer as you did all those years ago?’