Corey McFadden (12 page)

Maude glanced up the broad street with some misgiving. She saw a number of signs swaying above doorways. Well, she could just stroll along until she found the sign for Parks and Booth. None of these shops appeared to be open anyway. It was still too early for business.

She sauntered slowly, almost absently, enjoying the big city feel and the fancy façades on the small, but elegant, buildings. There it was! Booth and Parks, and she had only walked a few blocks. She stood out front for a few minutes and surveyed the premises. It was a respectable-looking establishment with a tasteful Georgian front and wide stone stairs. As she had expected, the windows were dark. She went up the steps anyway and lifted the large, gleaming brass knocker. There was no response.

Maude turned and sat down on the steps. She was awfully hungry and there had been some enticing pastries on the carts down by the river. There was no real hurry now, since the office was not yet open. She could barely suppress the joy she was feeling at this moment. It was irrational, she knew, given the precariousness of her entire situation, but it felt so good to be alone in London, unfettered by any of the social demands which invariably shackled young ladies of her station.

She gave a little giggle as she took an undignified leap down the stairs, using the wrought-iron guard rail for support. At  least for the moment she was enjoying the part she was playing, that of a streetwise urchin with no claim to significance.

With a boy’s swagger to her step, she walked back toward the river, intent on breakfast. No doubt by luncheon she would be stuffed back into some hastily procured gown, stays and all, by the horrified Messrs. Booth and Parks, and made to sit demurely in an office parlor while the solicitors nattered about, untangling the sorry affair. But this morning belonged to Mike, and he was quite determined to enjoy it!

* * * *

It must have been an hour later when Maude made herself turn back toward Chancery Lane. She felt such a reluctance, as if she could already feel the stays biting into her sides. She had dawdled in the streets as long as she could, savoring the sights and sounds and tantalizing aromas that washed over her in this fascinating place. Traffic had picked up considerably in the last hour or so. Carriages and carts clogged the narrow streets as coachmen jockeyed each other for the superior position. Boys ran by, carrying leather pouches, no doubt messengers among the solicitors and businesses in the busy district. Maude could not remember having seen so many people at one time in her entire life and she was thrilled with the bustling importance of it all.

At last, no matter how slowly she walked, she found herself within a few feet of the Booth and Parks establishment. She glanced up at a movement at the front door, and froze in horror at the sight that met her eyes. Sailing down the stairs, rigid and haughty, was none other than Aunt Claire, followed by John puffing in his pastel satins to keep up with her. An angry red gash ran from his eye to his mouth; the whole side of his face was swollen and badly discolored. A gentleman, whom Maude recalled seeing at Romney Manor on family business from time to time, strode next to Claire.

In near panic, Maude turned into a stairwell formed between the building and its neighbor, where narrow steps led down to a storage cellar. She went down the few stairs and shrank back into the shadow where she couldn’t be seen.
Please let them think she was an errand boy with a delivery!
Peering up through the railing, she could see the hem of Claire’s dress as her aunt swept down the last few stairs right next to where she hid. They must have left before dawn to get here so quickly, she thought to herself, hardly daring to breathe lest she give herself away. She’d just wait until they left. At least now she’d have less trouble convincing the solicitors that she was Maude Romney, now that they must know she had run away.

The trio stopped at the curb. Maude could see them from where she crouched back in the shadows, looking up through the railing. The gentleman gestured down the street and a carriage which had been waiting pulled forward. He turned to Aunt Claire, smiling.

“You must calm yourself, my dear. As I told you, if the chit does manage to make her way here, she will be sent directly to me. I shall give her the grim details on her finances. I’ll make it clear that she must marry John or Romney Manor will be sold to pay off her debts to you. You must trust me on this,” he said smoothly. Maude watched as his hand slid from Claire’s waist to her buttocks, giving them a hard, suggestive squeeze.

Claire turned to face him and Maude was startled to see her smile slowly into the gentleman’s eyes. John looked on with great disinterest. “I’m sure we can come to an amicable arrangement, Mr. Parsons.” Claire’s tone was almost purring. Maude could not recall ever having heard her speak so gently. “But I fail to understand why we are to take no action against the girl for mutilating my son. An unprovoked attack—you can see she tried to kill him—and now he will be permanently scarred, all because he had the kindness to offer her an honorable marriage! You can see now what I have had to put up with all these years. She is utterly without care for the family, she is ungovernable, and now I fear she will murder us all in our beds! I cannot think why John persists in wanting to marry her.” Claire raised a lacy handkerchief to her eyes.

“Now, now, Mrs. Romney, we do not wish to drag the family name through the criminal courts. So undignified, you know, and the scandal sheets would have a feeding frenzy on the story. No, no, John is right to wish to keep the entire distasteful affair private. And as for a wedding, I think it would be in everyone’s best interests. Everyone’s,” he repeated with emphasis. His hand again fondled Claire’s rump. She simpered at him.

“Now, here is your coach. You must return to the manor as we agreed. No doubt the girl is hiding somewhere about the house or grounds, sulking.” He helped Claire mount the step to the coach. “My dear, you must not worry. As soon as she is found, I shall come directly to Romney Manor to set her straight on how dire her circumstances are.” They smiled at each other. “And if she comes here, it will be so much the simpler. But you must promise to keep silent on this matter, my dear. It will not do to have it noised about that there has been physical violence done. It is so...
déclassé
, if you will, and it would not do to call attention to the situation.” He patted her hand as John settled his bulk into the opposite seat. “And do come up with some sensible story to explain your injury, John. I believe you’ll look quite rakish when it’s healed.” John scowled at him and reached over to pull the door shut.

Maude listened to Mr. Parsons’ tread as he mounted the stairs. She felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach. Waves of blackness threatened to engulf her as she sat huddled and shaking on the cellar steps. What John had told her was true, every word of it. She was virtually penniless and at the mercy of her vicious aunt and twisted cousin. All the worse, the solicitor, whom she had counted on to be her savior, was her enemy, determined to see her packed off to Romney Manor, bride to John. Maude could not erase from her memory the sight of Mr. Parsons’ manicured fingers fondling Claire’s buttocks, right in the street! No, there would be no help from that quarter. It was almost incomprehensible that in the space of twelve hours she had gone from a secure existence to a nightmare from which she would never awaken.

Now there is no one, she thought to herself miserably, no one to turn to at all. Her chin in her hand, she stared up at the carriages passing on the street. She had no one left in the world. She was alone in London with no money, and she might as well be dead as go back home.

She look several deep breaths and leaned back against the railing. As if to emphasize her plight, a door opened in the well below her and a stocky, bandy-legged boy emerged, brandishing a broom in her direction. “’Ere, now, ’oo do you think you are, clutt’rin’ up our steps like that! Be off with you ’afore I call a constable!” The broom made contact with Maude’s face as she scrambled to her feet, then found her rear end as she stumbled up the stairs. “An’ don’t you come back ’ere again. This ain’t no trash bin!” He followed her up the steps to the sidewalk and stood menacingly, like Cerberus guarding the gates of the underworld.

Maude ran down the street as fast as she could, hardly knowing where her feet were taking her. She ran as if she were being pursued by demons, oblivious to other passers-by, who had to step from her blind path. She stopped only when she came to the river, panting and bewildered. What was the matter with her? He was just a boy with a broom, after all. Still, she thought to herself as she gasped for breath, it was best she had got away from there. She did not need that young bully to call attention to her, not right next door to the odious Mr. Parsons! She brushed her hair back off her sweaty brow and resettled her cap on her head. With a ragged sigh, she stared at the Thames, lazing by, calm and gray.

Awhile ago she had wished to be free to roam the streets of London, to go anywhere, to do anything she wanted. Now she had her wish, although she had thought a clean bed and regular meals were meant to be included. She turned and walked aimlessly along the wide street which followed the river. She supposed she could get some sort of job, if she knew anyone to ask, and if she had any references or skills. She laughed ruefully to herself. And if I had wings, I’d be an angel. She kicked clods of dirt in her path. Anyway, she seemed to make a great boy. No one had spotted her yet for a young lady.

“Hey, you! Mike! Over ’ere!”

Maude glanced up, startled as it registered that, indeed, she was the ‘Mike’ in question. Seated on his cart like royalty was Eddie, grinning at her and waving. Oh Lord! What a sight for sore eyes!

“Eddie! Wait for me!”

Maude ran for his cart, like a drowning man making for a small island in the middle of the ocean. She heaved herself up onto the seat and turned with a great grin. Eddie was all she had in the world at the moment.

“I suppose you’ll be wantin’ a ride back, yer lordship. Yer business’ll be concluded?”

Maude giggled. “I’d be much obliged, but I haven’t got a shillin’ left to give you.”

“Well, you’ll owe me then. But it so ’appens I’m bound for ’ome with a cart full of produce and fish so I suppose I can take you as well.”

Maude glanced back appreciatively at the cart load. She was beginning to feel hungry again. She pushed the thought down. There was no telling when she’d eat again, so there was no point in worrying over it now. It was enough to worry about what to tell Eddie and where to go next.

They rode along in companionable silence until Maude noticed that the shops and vendors had given way to a fashionable residential district which looked ominously familiar.

“Er, Eddie, I was wonderin’...that is, well, I’m not too happy with my situation. Would I be able to get work around here, do you think?”

“Wot’r’yer good at, country boy, gawkin’ at the sights? ’Tain’t much call f’that talent.” Eddie grinned. “Wot’s the matter, she be a nasty to work for?”

“Awful, just awful. And I’d like to stay here in London. Not much fun in the country.”

“I’m sure of that. I’m a city boy, meself, born and bred. Never actually been to the country, but then I can’t see no reason to go neither. But what do you do for her nastiness?”

“Well, horses mostly. I work in the stables. I know a lot about horses.”

“Well, that’s a talent right enough. There’s always call for stable’ands in the big ’ouses in London. That’s where the country-bred can get on right well. Would yer mistress be givin’ you any trouble about references?”

Maude’s spirits sank, but she had known this was coming. “She hates it when any of the staff wants to leave. She thinks we’ll be talkin’ bad about her when we go on to other houses. And, mind you, she’s right. I’ve heard she never gives references at all. If you want to leave, be damned to you, she says.” Maude found that this story came easily to her, since she was describing Aunt Claire right down to her very expressions.

“Aye, I know the type. I don’t blame you f’wantin’ out of that ’ouse. It’s difficult, to be sure, having no references, but it can be gotten around. ’Ow long’ll she be stoppin’ in London?”

“Only a few more days. I...I’d like to not go back to her at all, now if I could. She cracked me on the head last night.”

Maude pushed back her cap and turned toward Eddie. She felt a twinge at this outright lie, but, after all, it was all John’s fault that she’d been in the way of the earl’s carriage. And it wouldn’t hurt to engender a little comradely sympathy in Eddie.

“That does look nasty. Yer mistress, if she’s not married, we should introduce ’er to my lordship. They’d make a pretty pair, they would. Spend their ’oneymoon at one another with brickbats. Give the servants a bit of a rest.”

Maude and Eddie laughed uproariously. Neither noticed the liveried footman approaching them with grim determination.

“You, Mike, get down from there at once. You have the whole household in an uproar looking for you. And Mrs. Formby in a fine fettle, I’m sure. Worried that you’ve wandered off in some delirium. More like with the family silver, I’d say. You get right down here and come with me.”

Maude glanced wildly at Eddie as if looking for deliverance. Eddie, recognizing a social superior in the footman, glanced at Maude and shrugged ruefully, as if to say, “I’m sorry, I can’t help you now....”

With a sigh, she climbed down. “I’m sorry, Martin. I didn’t want to worry anyone. I was just having a look ’round.”

She turned toward Eddie. “Thanks for the ride.” She gave him an imploring glance.

“Any time, Mike. Come ’round sometime if you want. You know where to find us if you need to.” He looked so concerned that she was touched.

In high dudgeon, Martin marched Maude back toward the rear entrance to the earl’s establishment. “The very idea, consorting with such riffraff....” He snorted.

“I am sorry, really I am. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. But I’ve never seen the city before, and with the pain and all, well, I couldn’t sleep, you see, and I just thought to go for a walk...” Maude stumbled on, surprised at how easily the lies tripped off her tongue. I shall have to have a talk with the rector about the state of my mortal soul when things return to normal, she thought. That is, if they ever return to normal.