The Ragged Heiress (33 page)

The hansom cab drew to a halt in Angel Alley. Lucetta had been under the impression that the aunt’s house was similar to those she knew so well in Lonsdale Square, but although this narrow passage running from Whitechapel High Street to Wentworth Street might be the most salubrious address in the area it was not what she had been led to expect. Ralph paid the cabby and alighted, holding out his hand to help her down from the cab. Her expression must have registered the shock and distaste she felt. He shrugged his shoulders and the gold braid on his uniform glinted in the sun’s pale rays as they fought their way down through smoke-filled air. Feral cats and dogs foraged in the gutters for scraps of mouldering food, and glistening masses of bluebottles feasted off the horse dung and other waste matter that lay undisturbed on the cobblestones.

‘Don’t judge the house by the exterior,’ Ralph said casually. ‘Come inside and you’ll see.’

Lucetta glanced nervously up and down the alleyway where barefooted children with scabby faces hung about listlessly in doorways while their slatternly mothers touted for business. The rows of terraced houses were neat enough, with green blinds and brass plates on their doors advertising trades from hosiers and glovers to silk mercers, tailors and bootmakers. It was quite obvious that Aunt Matilda was none of these and as Ralph rapped on the brass lion’s head door knocker Lucetta was tempted to run away, but she had
nowhere to go. Reluctantly she followed him into the narrow hallway where the surprisingly savoury aroma of roasting meat made her empty stomach rumble with hunger. At least the interior of the house seemed clean and the floorboards had been waxed and polished to a glassy sheen.

‘Roast lamb,’ Ralph said, sniffing the air. ‘Aunt Matty does not stint when it comes to feeding her guests.’ He handed his plumed hat and leather gloves to a scrawny maidservant.

‘Shall I take your bag, miss?’

Lucetta shook her head. The girl did not look strong enough to carry a sack of feathers, let alone a leather valise. ‘I’ll keep my things with me for the moment, thank you.’

‘Shall you take off your shawl and bonnet then, miss?’

‘Not for the moment.’ Lucetta clutched her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders.

‘You have nothing to fear, Lucy,’ Ralph said, eyeing her keenly. ‘This is not what you were expecting?’

‘Not exactly,’ Lucetta murmured.

‘You’re tired and you must be starving. We’ll wait in the parlour for Aunt Matty and the girl can bring us some refreshments.’ He slapped the young maid on the bottom. ‘Tell your mistress that Ralph is here with a guest, and bring the young lady some tea.’

The girl scuttled off without a word.

‘Is that how you treat your aunt’s servants?’ Lucetta demanded, hanging back as Ralph opened the door to a reception room. ‘That was uncalled for.’

He ushered her into the parlour with an unwavering smile. ‘Don’t trouble your pretty head about matters that don’t concern you. I didn’t hear her complain, did you?’

Lucetta walked past him, clutching her valise in front of her like a shield. ‘It wasn’t a gentlemanly thing to do, Lieutenant.’

‘It was Ralph just a few moments ago. I thought we were friends, Lucy.’

She hesitated, but his engaging smile reassured her and she sat down on the nearest chair. She was so exhausted that she could not walk another step. ‘You have been very kind, Ralph. And I am grateful.’

He produced a silver case from his inside pocket and took out a small black cheroot which he lit with a vesta, inhaling the smoke with a satisfied sigh. ‘I’m counting on it, my dear.’

Lucetta was about to challenge his remark when the door opened and a middle-aged woman entered the room. She was tall and slender with her waist so tightly corseted that it was little more than a hand’s span. Her grey hair was piled up on her head in a mass of elaborate curls and her cheeks were rouged to an unlikely rosiness, as were her thin lips. Her black bombazine skirts rustled as she moved and she smiled when she saw Ralph. ‘The girl said you’d arrived, you scoundrel. I haven’t heard from you for six months or more and then you turn up on my doorstep. What am I to do with you, you bad boy?’

Ralph moved swiftly towards her and kissed her on the lips.

Lucetta looked on in amazement. He must be very fond of his aunt, she thought dazedly.

Aunt Matty took the cheroot from Ralph’s fingers and sucked on it, exhaling a plume of smoke before handing it back to him. ‘And who is your friend, Ralph? You don’t normally bring one with you. Are my girls not enough for you?’

Ralph slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘Now, now, Aunt Matty, don’t be a naughty girl. You’ll shock my new friend who is fresh from the country and unused to city ways.’ He turned to Lucetta with a disarming smile. ‘May I present Miss Lucy Guthrie, Aunt? She is looking for work in London, and I told her that I was sure you could put her in the way of suitable employment.’

‘How do you do, ma’am,’ Lucy said, rising to her feet and bobbing a curtsey. ‘I hope I’m not putting you out by arriving unannounced?’

Miss Matty nudged Ralph in the ribs. ‘What are you doing, boy? This one is a lady.’

‘I beg your pardon,’ Lucetta said, glancing from one to the other. ‘Is there something you haven’t told me, Ralph?’

He tossed the cheroot into the empty grate and he pinched his aunt’s thin cheek, a little too hard Lucetta thought as Miss Matty winced and her hooded grey eyes watered. ‘My dear aunt likes to tease, Lucy. Perhaps you would like to be shown to your room. I’m sure you would like to refresh yourself after our long journey and I need to speak to my aunt in private.’ He slapped Miss Matty’s cheek with a playful smile.

‘Do that again and I’ll show you the door,’ Miss Matty hissed, and then, recovering her composure, she curled her thin lips into a smile as she moved sinuously to the fireplace and tugged on the bell pull. ‘Cora will show you to your room, Miss Guthrie. We dine at nine o’clock.’

‘I’ve told the girl to bring tea here for Lucy,’ Ralph said calmly. ‘However, I’ll be quite happy to take it up to her room.’

‘No you won’t,’ Miss Matty said sharply. She modified her tone, smiling archly. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to wait on our guest, Ralph. That wouldn’t be the done thing, now would it?’

The young maid stuck her head round the door before Ralph had a chance to reply. ‘You rang, missis?’

‘Show Miss Guthrie to number six,’ Miss Matty said sternly. ‘And she will take her tea in her room. We will see you later, Miss Guthrie, when you have had a chance to rest.’

Lucetta shot a sideways look at Ralph but his attention was focused on Miss Matty and he seemed to have forgotten her existence. She followed the maid out of the parlour but Lucetta hesitated when they reached the foot of the stairs. She could hear raised voices and bursts of laughter coming from the upper floors, together with scraping and bumping sounds as if furniture were being moved about. She cast a desperate glance over her shoulder, wondering if it would be better to make a swift exit, but the thought of wandering the streets as afternoon wore into evening was even less appealing than accepting Miss Matty’s hospitality.

‘Shall I take your bag now, miss?’ The maid’s pinched face was close to hers as the girl stopped on the stairs just ahead of her.

‘No, it’s all right. You go on, I’ll follow.’

As they reached the first landing a door opened and a man lurched out, very red in the face and shrugging on a cord jacket over a coarse calico shirt unbuttoned to the waist. He stopped when he saw them and he pulled a cloth cap onto his tousled head. ‘Good day to you, miss.’

Lucetta moved out of his way. ‘Who was that?’ she whispered in the maid’s ear as the man lumbered downstairs, his heavy boots scraping on the bare treads. He left the definite odour of the farmyard in his wake and the stench of an unwashed male.

‘He’s a farmer’s man, miss. They lodge here twice a week when they come up from the country to supply the Whitechapel hay market. They’re some of the best behaved ones if you know what I mean.’ The girl scuttled up a second and slightly narrower staircase to a narrow landing where she unlocked the door facing them and stood aside to allow Lucetta to enter. ‘This is your room, miss.’ She slipped the key into the pocket of her apron and was about to leave but Lucetta caught her by the wrist.

‘That’s my key, I believe.’

The girl’s face paled and her eyes opened wide. ‘I got me instructions, miss.’

‘Why?’ Lucetta demanded. ‘Why am I not to have the key?’

‘I dunno, miss. I just do as I’m told.’

Lucetta thrust her hand into the girl’s pocket and took out the key. ‘I’m sorry, but you will just have to tell your mistress that if I am paying for my room I expect to have possession of the key.’

‘She’ll beat me black and blue.’ The girl’s eyes welled with tears and her lips trembled.

‘I’ll tell her it was my fault,’ Lucetta said, patting her on the shoulder. ‘Don’t cry, dear. I’m sure we can clear this up. Tell me your name and I’ll speak to Miss Matilda.’

‘I’m Cora, but if you want to help me, don’t say nothing. I’ll get twice the walloping if you do.’ She turned and ran down the stairs.

Lucetta shut the door and locked it. Only then did she look round the room that she was about to rent and she was not impressed, but it would have to do for one night at least. The floorboards were bare except for a rag rug beside the iron bedstead which was hardly the height of luxury. The bare mattress looked lumpy and a tentative prod with her fingers confirmed her suspicion. Coarse cotton sheets were neatly folded at the foot of the bed with one blanket and a thin cotton coverlet. The pillow ticking was marked with greasy patches where other heads had lain, and the sharp ends of feathers stuck out like the spines on a hedgehog. The walls were whitewashed and unrelieved by any form of adornment, as were the only two pieces of furniture in the room; a pine washstand and dressing table. Lucetta sat down on the edge of the bed and began to unlace her boots. The only good thing that could be said of this spartan bedchamber was that it appeared to be reasonably clean and the bedding had
been washed and ironed. It was small comfort but she was too tired to care and she lay down fully dressed and almost instantly fell asleep.

She awakened with a start at the sound of someone thumping on her door. She snapped to a sitting position. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Open the door, Lucy. It’s Ralph, I’ve brought you some tea.’

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. ‘Please leave it outside the door.’

‘What’s all this about, Lucy? You’re not afraid of me, surely?’

‘I need to rest. Please leave me alone.’

There was a moment’s silence and when he spoke his voice was clipped as if he were controlling his temper with difficulty. ‘Don’t be a silly girl. For God’s sake, Lucy, I’m not going to hurt you.’ There was a clatter of crockery as if he had placed the tray none too gently on the floor, but he moderated his tone. ‘We dine in an hour, my dear. Join us in the parlour for a glass of sherry before dinner. You have nothing to fear.’

She put her ear to the door, waiting until his footsteps died away before unlocking it and opening it just far enough to make certain that there was no one outside. She seized the tray and retreated to her room. She placed it on the washstand, and only when she had locked the door did she feel safe enough to breathe again. She perched on the edge of the bed and drank the rapidly cooling tea in a couple of thirsty gulps. The kitchen staff had been generous with the food and there was a plate of ham sandwiches which she devoured in seconds,
followed by a slice of seed cake which was not her favourite but she was too hungry to be fussy. Feeling much stronger, she sat back on the bed listening to the rhythmic creaking of bedsprings from the adjoining room. Naïve she might be, but it was quite obvious what sort of house Miss Matty was running. She knew now that Ralph had tricked her and she realised that she had been foolish in putting her trust in a handsome stranger.

She slipped her feet into her boots and laced them tightly. There was nothing else for it: she would rather brave the city streets than stay in this house of ill repute for a single night. She did not think that Ralph would force her, but she was taking no chances. She packed her bonnet and shawl inside her valise so that if she were seen she would not look as though she intended to make her escape, and she tucked her purse into her stays. Unlocking the door, she paused, listening for sounds other than the ones emanating from the bedrooms, and satisfied that everyone was fully occupied she tiptoed down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor. She reached the front door and was just about to grasp the handle when she heard footsteps behind her. She tugged at the door but it refused to open and she realised too late that it was locked and the key was not in place.

‘I thought you might try something like this,’ Ralph said with a mirthless chuckle. ‘I can’t think why you are so eager to throw yourself to the wolves, my dear Lucy.’

She spun round to face him. ‘You are the wolf and I was foolish to believe your lies, but you can’t keep me here against my will.’

He leaned over her, resting one hand on the lintel and trapping her against the solid wood of the door. ‘Can’t I? And who is going to save you from my amorous advances, my little innocent? There is no one here who will answer your cries for help, or they might possibly be cries of ecstasy.’

Lucetta pushed her hands against his chest and the braid cut into her fingers. ‘You are disgusting and you are no gentleman.’

His smile faded and he took her by the arm, dragging her along the passage towards the parlour. ‘I’ve had enough of your maidenly protestations. You are starting to bore me, Lucy.’ Opening the door he thrust her inside and she stumbled, almost losing her balance.

‘Ungrateful little bitch,’ Miss Matty said, scowling. ‘Pour some grog down her throat, Ralph. Maybe that will make her more amenable.’

Lucetta drew herself up to her full height. She was trapped but she was not going to give in so easily. ‘Let me go now and I won’t report you to the police, but I’ve got friends in high places. My last employer was a Member of Parliament. I’ll see you both behind bars if you don’t set me free this instant.’