The Orphan's Dream (13 page)

‘I don't doubt it, but you don't know everything about me, Mr Kettle.' She was floundering now as she tried to come to terms with his proposal.

He held out his hand. ‘My name is Hubert and it would please me greatly if you could bring yourself to use it instead of Mr Kettle.'

‘Yes, Hubert,' she murmured.

‘And will you at least consider my proposal?'

She thought quickly, closing her mind to the man who haunted her dreams. Hubert was a nice man, if a little eccentric, and he was offering her a home, security and respectability. Living in a brothel and working for a notorious madam like Zilla Grace did not bode well for her future. Her plan to save enough to make herself independent might take years to accomplish, and the secret hopes she had harboured regarding Captain Starke were never likely to become a reality: there were very few choices for a young woman in her position. Hubert's shy and yet eager expression put her in mind of a young boy anticipating a long-awaited birthday gift. The years seemed to have dropped away from him and she saw the person beneath the ageing outer shell. ‘I need a little time to think,' she began slowly, but then the need to be honest outweighed every other consideration. ‘But there is something you must know first, which might make you change your mind.'

‘There can't be anything that would make me think ill of you, my dear.'

‘You might feel differently when I tell you that my late father has been accused of making his fortune by murdering his old employer and taking over his business.'

‘That's a very serious accusation. Who would say such things about a man who is dead and cannot speak for himself?'

‘His name is Septimus Wiley. He was a worker in Mr Pendleton's warehouse where my pa was a clerk. I think he must have been blackmailing my father, and that's why Pa took him on as our butler. Wiley is a hateful creature and he drinks too much.'

‘Why would anyone believe such a man? It's obviously a pack of lies, so I don't think you ought to worry too much about him.'

‘That's not all, Hubert.' To her surprise his name came more easily to her lips. ‘I'm sure that Wiley helped to bring about my father's death in some way, although I can't prove that he was at fault. Then he married my stepmother, which gave him control of Pa's business and all his assets.'

Hubert stared into the fire, frowning. ‘He sounds like a despicable creature, but what could he hope to gain by spreading malicious gossip about your father? It doesn't make sense.'

‘I don't know.' She clenched her hands into fists. ‘He hates me, even though I can't see that I'm a threat to him in any way. Pa left everything to Ernestine, or so I was told. I never saw the will.'

‘It should be possible to get a copy.'

‘I wouldn't want to do anything to antagonise Wiley. He's a dangerous man and I want to forget I ever knew him. That goes for Ernestine too and her horrid daughters.'

Hubert took her right hand in his, holding it and unclenching her fingers slowly, one by one. He smoothed the angry creases from her palm. ‘Don't upset yourself, Mirabel. If you agree to marry me you need never worry about money again. I promise to look after you, and I won't allow anyone to hurt you.'

His touch made her shiver with apprehension and she was tempted to pull free, but she did not want to hurt his feelings. Even so, she had to be ruthlessly honest. ‘I do like you, Hubert, but that's all it could ever be. Would you be happy with a woman who married you on such terms?'

‘Never mind me, my dear, I'm not important. It's you who would have to put up with an ageing husband.'

She gave his fingers a sympathetic squeeze as she withdrew her hand. ‘I don't think I'll ever see it that way, Hubert. You are a kind man and you are young in your heart, which makes all the difference.'

His pale eyes mirrored the flames in the fire, and his thin lips curved in a smile. ‘You are the best medicine for me, my dear. Just being in your company makes me feel twenty years younger. You are like one of my precious orchids and I will treasure you as such.'

It was her turn to smile. ‘I never saw myself as a flower, but I would be very interested to see your collection.'

‘And so you shall. If you agree to marry me I think I might even manage one last trip to find the orchid of my dreams, and we could make the journey together.'

‘You would take me on one of your expeditions?' Mirabel asked breathlessly. ‘Where would we go and what would we look for?'

‘It's long been my ambition to find a ghost orchid. They're very rare and utterly beautiful, although I've never seen one. I've heard that they're to be found in the everglades of Florida.'

‘You'd take me with you to America?' She could hardly believe her ears. ‘Really?'

‘Of course I would. You would be my companion and my helpmate. I believe I could accomplish anything with you by my side.' He rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet. ‘I would kneel down, but I'm afraid I might have difficulty in rising.'

Mirabel stood up slowly. She knew that she was about to make a decision that would change her life forever, but she was strangely calm and unafraid.

He took her hand in his, gazing into her eyes which were on a level with his. ‘Will you do me the honour of marrying me, Mirabel?'

‘Yes, Hubert. I will.'

At first Mirabel was reluctant to have the banns read in All Hallows Church, fearing that news of her upcoming nuptials might reach Ernestine and Wiley, but Hubert insisted that he wanted their marriage to be conducted with due ceremony in the house of God. One of the first things that Mirabel learned about him was that he attended matins and evensong every Sunday, accompanied by the devoted Mrs Flitton. Mirabel had not been to church on a regular basis since her governess had left, and when Hubert proudly introduced her as his fiancée she was afraid that the vicar might remember her father's funeral. Fortunately for her, the reverend gentleman's mind must have been on higher matters when he had conducted that particular service, and he welcomed her as a new member of his flock. It was a relief to know that Wiley's brand of poison had not spread this far. The banns were read and the wedding was arranged for the 21st December.

Zilla was grimly amused by the idea that one of her old friends was to marry her parlourmaid, but Lucky Sue and the rest of Zilla's girls thought it the funniest thing they had heard for a long time. Gentle Jane hooted with laughter and made lewd suggestions as to how Mirabel would cope with her aged husband on their wedding night, and was immediately hushed by Gertie, whose face was suffused with blushes as she hurried Mirabel out of the room. ‘Don't take no notice of them, love,' she said in a low voice. ‘They're just jealous, that's all.' She dragged Mirabel into the drawing room, which was laid out ready for the evening revelries, and closed the door. ‘What do you know about it?'

‘It?' Mirabel repeated, puzzled.

‘The wedding night.' Gertie's already flushed cheeks deepened in colour. ‘I mean what happens when you're alone with your husband in bed at night. Oh, for goodness' sake, Mirabel, you've worked here for months. You must know what goes on between a man and a woman.'

‘I've seen more than I wanted to.' It was Mirabel's turn to redden. ‘I've heard the grunts and the cries of pain or pleasure, I was never sure which, but I'm not exactly certain what they do.'

Gertie sucked in her cheeks and frowned. ‘Well then, it'll be a bit of a shock, but I can tell you it gets easier, although I ain't never done it with a man of his age.' She shot a sideways glance at Mirabel. ‘No offence meant, but he's old enough to be your granddad. I ain't even sure he could do what he's supposed to.' She leaned against the door, shaking her head. ‘You ain't making this easy, Mirabel Cutler.'

‘I know what you're saying, or at least I don't know, but it doesn't matter. Hubert has promised me that we will have separate bedchambers and he will never make demands on me.'

‘And you believe him?'

‘Of course I do, Gertie. He's a nice man and he goes to church twice a day on Sundays.'

‘They're often the worst offenders. Give me a good honest crook any day of the week.'

Despite her embarrassment, Mirabel threw back her head and laughed. ‘You are funny, Gertie. But don't worry about me. I'll be quite all right with Hubert.'

‘It don't sound very exciting. You'll get fed up with wiping his chin when he starts to dribble.'

‘Poor man, he's not so very old. In fact we're going on a plant-hunting expedition together, and I can't wait to see a bit more of the world than Whitechapel and the docks.'

‘Well, I wish you luck, Mabel, and should you meet a seaman called Bodger Tinker that'll be my brother. Tell him to come home and rescue his sister from a life of sin. I'm tired of dealing with drunken lechers. I'd like to find a decent man who'll love me and provide a decent home where we can bring up our children. That's all I want out of life. It ain't much to ask, is it?'

Quashing the doubts that had been growing in her mind about her own future, Mirabel nodded her head. ‘Of course not. And if I should happen to meet Bodger I'll be certain to pass on the message.'

Zilla had a more practical approach to Mirabel's upcoming nuptials and she sent for Miss Standish, instructing her to make a wedding dress suitable for the bride of a well-respected gentleman with the means to pay for such luxuries. ‘Ivory silk,' she said firmly. ‘It should be very simple and virginal. No lace and no frills, Emily.'

Mirabel had not thought of the prim dressmaker as anything other than Miss Standish, and hearing her addressed by her Christian name came as something of a shock. Gertie giggled and received a withering look from Zilla. She bowed her head, but her shoulders shook with silent mirth as she turned away to dust the mantelshelf.

‘That sounds lovely,' Mirabel said hastily. ‘But I can't afford a new gown.'

‘Don't be silly child. Your fiancé will foot the bill.' Zilla turned to Miss Standish. ‘The best silk, Emily, and she will need new undergarments too. I suggest Swiss lawn with broderie anglaise trimming for the chemise and a silk taffeta petticoat. Will you be able to cope with such a large order?'

‘I have an apprentice now, and I have sewing women I can call upon to help me in cases such as this.' Miss Standish shot a sideways glance at Mirabel. ‘Some people have exceptional good luck.'

‘I'm aware of that,' Mirabel said quickly. ‘Mr Kettle is a fine man.'

‘They say it's better to be an old man's darling than a young man's slave,' Miss Standish mused. ‘I'm not convinced though. My dear Philip was a young Adonis and so very much in love with me. I carry his likeness close to my heart always.' She indicated the heart-shaped silver locket that hung around her neck.

‘I'm sure we have all suffered the loss of someone dear to us in the past.' Zilla moved swiftly to the door. ‘The wedding is in just under three weeks. Send the bill to Mr Kettle's residence in Savage Gardens. Mabel will be working here until then.'

Miss Standish dropped her notebook into her oversized carpet bag and left the room without a backward glance. Zilla glanced over her shoulder as she followed her into the entrance hall. ‘Back to work, you two. You're not married yet, Mabel. No shirking.'

Gertie pulled a face as the door closed on them. ‘Blooming slave driver. You're lucky you'll be out of here before Christmas, Mabel.' She slumped down on the sofa. ‘I dunno why we can't use your proper name, but after you're wed we can call you Mirabel again, or will it be Mrs Hubert Kettle?'

Mirabel sank down on the sofa beside her. ‘It will always be Mirabel to you, Gertie. When I'm settled with Hubert I'll do my best to get you out of here. Maybe you could come and live with us.'

‘That's not likely to happen, love. I don't think Mr Kettle would have someone like me living under his roof.'

‘I don't see the difference between you and me,' Mirabel said stoutly. ‘Misfortune brought us both to Tenter Street.'

‘But you don't pay for your bed and board like I do. If only Bodger hadn't jumped ship I might not have ended up like this.'

Mirabel slipped her arm around Gertie's shoulders. ‘How would you like to be my bridesmaid? I haven't any family to stand up for me and I won't have anyone to give me away.'

Gertie's eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, that's so sad. You got no pa, and you're marrying a man three times your age. Poor Mabel.'

‘I wish my pa was still alive, but I'm quite content to marry Hubert and I don't mind walking up the aisle on my own.'

‘You're very brave, but don't you sometimes wish that things was different?'

‘I might have done when I was young and romantic, but I daresay falling in love isn't all it's cracked up to be, and I'll get my wish to travel and see the world.' She closed her eyes as Jack's mocking smile invaded her thoughts. ‘I'm not lying,' she added in answer to the unspoken question in his cynical grin.

‘I never said you was,' Gertie protested. ‘And there's someone at the door, Mabel. You'd best answer it.'

‘Yes, of course.' Mirabel let herself out of the parlour and went to open the front door.

The young man who stood on the doorstep looked like any one of the hundreds of seamen who thronged the streets close to the docks. His ditty bag was slung over one shoulder and his clothes were shabby and salt-stained. He tipped his cap and his weathered features broke into a cheerful grin. ‘Good morning, miss.'

Despite his open features and candid smile he did not look like the type of client Zilla would welcome. Mirabel knew from experience that her employer was very particular about the men she allowed into her establishment, and anyone who might cause trouble would be refused admittance. This young man looked as though he knew how to handle himself in a fight, and, judging by his broken nose, had probably started a few in his time. ‘I think you might have come to the wrong place,' Mirabel said carefully, not wanting to cause offence.