The Edge of the Fall (30 page)

‘There's blood on the carpet.' She felt sick, panicked.

He jumped back. ‘There is! Oh, damn its eyes. Pass me the paper, miss, quickly.'

He seized the newspaper, bundled the thing up. ‘Mrs Bills will kill me. Before Mrs Merling!'

She gazed at the spots on the carpet, blobs of the stuff. They wouldn't ever be able to get it out. No matter how much they cleaned, it would always be there. He was scrubbing at it with his handkerchief, awkwardly perched with the thing under his arm.

‘Throw it away. Just throw it away.'

He held the bundle to him. ‘I'll take it downstairs.'

She seized his arm. ‘Throw it out of the window!'

He looked at her, dubiously. ‘Now, miss, I can't do that. Someone might be walking past. I will take it downstairs. Mrs Bills' girls will dispose of it.'

She wanted to throw herself at him, clutch his hand, tell him how grateful she was.

‘Thank you!' she said. ‘I want it out of the house now! You'll take it away!'

He nodded, held up the parcel and walked out of the room. As he opened the door, Petra ran in. She mewed and headed straight for the spots of blood on the carpet. Louisa watched her, pawing at them, putting her nose close, licking at the blood. Then she began to cry and couldn't stop.

The tears squeezed from her eyes and she put her hands up to her face. As she did so, she retched – they smelt of rotting fish. She dashed to the toilet room and plunged them into the cold bowl of water. Then she started scrubbing, pulling at her skin and nails, seizing the nail brush and hacking at her fingers until her
hands were pink and raw. Then, finally, she leant against the wall, letting the tears flow down her face. She ran to her room, threw herself on to her bed. She could smell the fish, around her, on her body, in her very skin. When the maids came back, she would beg them to wash her hair.

The next morning, Louisa woke, groggy and sick. Lucy Merling jumped up. ‘She's awake, Mama.'

Louisa fell back on the pillows. Then Mrs Merling entered the room. ‘How are you feeling, poor dear?' She put her hand on Louisa's forehead. ‘Still hot.'

‘I feel very sick.' Her voice came out weak and cracked.

‘Do you remember what happened?'

She shook her head, hair brushing the hot pillow.

‘You were terribly upset. We called in Dr Graham, who gave you something to help you sleep. Jamieson said you'd received something odd in the post.'

She nodded. She could feel the hotness behind her eyes that meant tears were coming. Jamieson hadn't told the whole truth, then, afraid of getting in trouble for giving it over in the first place, rather than waiting until Mrs Merling returned, as he should have done.

‘Was it a note, dear, bad news?'

‘No.' She breathed. ‘It was some type of toy. I think it came to the wrong person. I was just feeling a little unhappy and it was a shock.' She put her hand out, towards Mrs Merling. ‘Where is Petra?'

‘We thought she might wake you up,' said Lucy.

‘I'd like her back.'

Lucy nodded, padded off.

‘Have you told Arthur?' she said to Mrs Merling.

The woman shook her head. ‘We haven't seen Mr Witt. As soon as I see him, I will.'

‘Oh no, I don't think so, Mrs Merling,' said Louisa. ‘It would only make him worry. I don't want to think any more about it.'

The older woman nodded. ‘Perhaps that would be best then.'
Louisa saw the glint of money in the woman's eyes. She wouldn't want her house to seem unsafe, wouldn't want Arthur taking Louisa away.

On the next evening, she dined with Arthur. ‘What's been happening with you?' he said. She couldn't bear to say, ‘Someone sent me a fish!' It sounded odd and ridiculous in her mouth, a joke, something from a funny play, not the horrible, cruel thing that it was. He might have laughed – and then she would have had to laugh too, not telling him how afraid she was. She'd have to say that ever since it happened she had been watching for someone coming to the door, how she had lain awake in bed listening to the banging of the windows, that when she had walked out with Arthur that evening, she had stared at the men on the street around them, muffled up in their coats, and felt sure that one of them was watching her. Frederick le Touche had said she'd made an enemy of Jennifer – but surely Jennifer wouldn't send her a
fish
. Just for dancing with Edward. She longed to ask Frederick, but whatever she said, she knew he might put in the newspapers.

She shook her head. ‘Not much.' She smiled. He started talking – as he always did – about one of his ideas for a business. This one was importing something or other. She gazed past him at the other couples. Were they looking at her? The man at the table across from her was staring, she felt sure. If she told Arthur, he would say she was being ludicrous. But someone had sent her the fish because they hated her. She tried to direct her mind by thinking about Edward, how she would let him kiss her.

‘You've been dancing a lot with Edward Munsden,' Arthur said, abruptly. She looked up from her plate. ‘I wouldn't, you know. He's a bit of a cad.'

Arthur was always so protective. ‘He seems respectable.'

‘I don't know about respectable. He's a fortune hunter, through and through. And he's practically engaged to the honourable Miss Redesdale.'

‘Who says?'

‘Everybody knows. They have an understanding.'

She didn't believe it. He wouldn't kiss her hand, tell her how beautiful she was, dance with her if he had an agreement with Jennifer. Arthur was just trying to discourage her from thinking of him, of someone else.

She shook her head. ‘It doesn't seem that way.'

‘You should listen to me!' His face was suddenly serious. ‘You're a young girl, your reputation untouched. You can't just talk to gentlemen. Especially not Munsden. You wouldn't believe what the other chaps say about him at the bar. Stick to talking to the ladies. Please?'

His face was so solemn that she nodded. ‘Yes, Arthur.'

‘Good,' he said. ‘Chatter as much as you like with the girls. And Frederick le Touche and the rest of them. Just not Munsden. He's bad news.'

She nodded, trying to smile. Her eyes sparked with Edward, she thought of him gazing at her, touching her hand, everyone staring at him, seeing the love in his eyes.

‘I'll come to collect you for the ball tomorrow,' Arthur said. ‘Mrs Clarendon's, you remember.'

She'd wear her pink gown; it made her lips look rosier, plumper, ready to kiss.

On the following day, she dressed carefully for the ball, having the maids arrange and rearrange her hair, repin the gown, pull it in so tight that Millie said she wouldn't be able to breathe.

Arthur whistled when she walked down the stairs to him. ‘Look at that!' he said. ‘Don't you look fine.'

‘Thank you, cousin. I'm glad you approve.'

She felt the skirt of her gown falling around her legs as she walked in on Arthur's arm. She smiled beatifically around the room. Arthur saw a friend – one of his gentlemen – and whipped across to the bar, promising he'd be back soon. She saw Edward – he'd been shielded by a group of women – smiled. Within minutes he was by her side, asking after her health, complimenting her gown. She let him take her arm in his soft grip and walk with
her to the dance floor. Arthur's words drove through her head:
I wouldn't, you know. Fortune hunter. They have an understanding
. Perhaps her cousin was right, perhaps she shouldn't speak to him. But surely it wasn't true. Arthur must have misunderstood.

Edward held her in his arms and started to sway. She looked down at her pink, sequinned bodice, admiring it, imagining seeing herself through his eyes. She gazed up at him, blushing before she had to meet his gaze, dropping her eyes. People might be watching. She smelt his skin, the saltiness. They came away and he passed her a drink, she sipped quickly so they could be back dancing together, so she could be close to his heart.

Three dances together – and then Arthur was hurrying up to her side, seizing her arm. ‘My cousin needs to come with me!'

‘What are you doing?' Arthur hissed, pulling her away. ‘I told you not to talk to him.'

She tried to pull back. ‘Cousin, please, we're only dancing.'

Edward was coming towards her, smiling. ‘Now what's this?' he said, coming closer. ‘Some kind of scene?'

Arthur shook his head. ‘I was just talking to my cousin,' he said sullenly.

‘I must keep her for one more dance. Then I'll set her free.' The music began and Edward whirled her over the floor. ‘What did Mr Witt say?' he breathed into her ear.

‘He worries about me. He's protective.'
He says you're a cad and engaged to Jennifer Redesdale
.

He laughed. The noise made her uneasy.

They danced again, three more times. She knew other guests were staring, but she pretended she didn't care. She pressed closer to his arms. Arthur, she supposed, had stamped off to the bar, fuming. She'd deal with him later.

They were about to start another dance when Mrs Clarendon herself appeared at her side. ‘Come, Miss Deerhurst. There is someone I desire you to meet.'

She smiled at Mrs Clarendon. ‘There is another dance yet.'

Mrs Clarendon reached for her arm. ‘Please, my dear. There is someone I would really like you to meet.'

Edward loosened her hands. She looked at him, and he shook his head, slightly. ‘I will see you after your conversation, Miss Deerhurst.'

‘Come now, dear,' said Mrs Clarendon. ‘I do wish you to meet my friend.'

Louisa let herself be pulled away.

‘Don't spend so long talking to men you don't know, dear. People see.'

‘We're here to dance, surely. To meet.'

‘Quite. Not to spend the night with one man.'

The person who Mrs Clarendon wanted her to meet was an old woman, Mrs Bell, who was escorting a daughter and could barely hear a word Louisa was saying. As soon as she could, she escaped, looked around, brushing off offers of drinks or olives. He wasn't there. She gazed around desperately, couldn't see him. She told herself to breathe, wait. He might simply have gone for air. She leant on a pillar, watching other people dance. She gazed at the dance floor, willing him to step across. He didn't.

‘He's gone, you know.' Arthur was at her side. She ignored him, turning her face away. ‘He had to go. You were making it so obvious.'

‘Making what obvious?'

‘You know. Never mind. Do you want to go? I'm tired.'

‘I'd rather stay.'

‘You know I can't go without you. Munsden's not coming back.'

‘How do you know?'

‘I saw him leave. It looked like he was going on somewhere else.'

‘But—' She couldn't finish.

He seized her wrist. ‘Come on, get your wrap. Time to go.'

He moved closer to her, so she could smell him, but it wasn't handsome, touching, encouraging like Edward. Arthur smelt hot and angry.

‘Why?' She wanted to twist, struggle out of his grip.

‘You're making a scene! People are looking.'

She gazed around quickly. Eyes darted away from her, she saw that they had been staring. She felt tears pricking her eyes.

‘Can't you see? You need to come now!'

She was going to pull back. Then Mrs Clarendon was behind her, hands on her back. ‘Go with him, dear,' she was saying. ‘I think it is time to leave us.'

She bowed her head, followed, her heart on fire. He tugged her out of the door. She ignored the cab men and the footmen waiting in lines and flung herself away from him. ‘How can you treat me like this?'

‘You've had too much champagne.'

She seized her gown in her hand, ran a little way along the street. ‘Why are you like this?' she cried. ‘Why are you so cruel?'

‘Oh, you're impossible.' He turned, called for his man, Carstairs – and then before she could speak out, he'd bundled her up into the waiting cab. ‘Take us back!' Arthur commanded. The cab lurched and moved forwards. She shifted into the corner and let the tears flow.

‘How could you?' she said, as Arthur pulled open the door at the Merlings'. ‘How could you treat me so?'

‘Cousin. You were making an exhibition of yourself.'

He held out his hand and she shook her head. ‘Why do you hate Edward?'

‘He's bad news, cousin. He's dangerous. Can you not see?'

She moved forwards, stepped down, shook off his hand, jumped on to the pavement. The street was quiet, a stray cat scratching at the corner of the road. ‘You shouldn't have pulled me away. That was wrong.'

Arthur screwed up his mouth. ‘Look, Louisa, I'm sorry. But he's a fortune hunter, like all soldiers are. He doesn't even care for you.'

‘He does.'

‘He pays attention to you to make Jennifer Redesdale jealous. You are nothing to him. What do you even know about him?'

‘I shall find out.'

‘And you propose to stay here while doing so?'

‘I do! I shall.'

He laughed, hard in the empty night. ‘So I pay for you to stay here and think of him?' Two cats looked up and skittered away in fear.

‘What else did you bring me here for?' Something changed, clicked in her mind.

He opened the door.

‘Let's go inside. Tonight has been too much already. It's not safe out here.'

‘Tell me! Why did you bring me here?'

‘Because you wanted to come. Because I like being with you, spending time with you. And honestly, I didn't want my family to grasp you in their clutches. I didn't expect you to go soft-eyed over a cad like Munsden. Now go inside, before you wake up the whole street.' She ran, hurried past the man, in through the Merlings' door. She slammed her own bedroom door when she got there, hoping that Arthur might hear.