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Heirs and Graces




  Victorian Vigilantes

  Heirs and Graces

  Wendy Soliman

  Victorian Vigilantes # 2

  Heirs and Graces

  Copyright © Wendy Soliman 2015

  Edited by Perry Iles

  Cover Design by Jane Dixon-Smith

  This edition amended April 2016

  This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations contained are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance of actual living or dead persons, business, or events. Any similarities are coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any method, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of

  The Author – Wendy Soliman

  This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction fines and/or imprisonment. The e-Book cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this e-Book can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the author.

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  Chapter One

  London, Spring 1852

  Jacob Morton, the Earl of Torbay, swished the tails of his frockcoat aside with a practised flip of his wrist and seated himself in an ornate Chippendale chair in front of a blazing log fire. With his legs stretched out in front of him, elegantly crossed at the ankles, he rested his elbow on the chair’s upholstered arm and supported his chin upon his splayed fingers. Having made himself comfortable Jake sent his friend Fergus Willard, already occupying the chair’s twin on the opposite side of the fireplace, a look of mild enquiry.

  ‘This, Jake, is Mabel Lloyd, the young woman I mentioned to you yesterday.’

  Jake turned his attention to the creature perched precariously on the edge of a silk couch, pulling a handkerchief to and fro between her fingers when she wasn’t using it to dab at her eyes. She was dressed in a dull yet serviceable checked twill gown that was too large for her yet failed to conceal her advancing pregnancy. The gown must have been loaned to her, since it was of too high a quality to belong to a member of the working classes. No doubt his friend’s sister had arranged it, just as she had brought the unfortunate Mabel Lloyd’s problems to the viscount’s attention, and thence to Jake’s.

  Why it was necessary for him to entertain such a person in the palatial drawing room of his Grosvenor Square house, Jake could not have said. It was immediately apparent to him that Mabel would be more comfortable below stairs. Be that as it may, Fergus had insisted that Jake hear her story from her own lips and Jake had no intention of sitting in the scullery in order to do so.

  ‘Well, Mabel,’ Jake said, sending her an encouraging smile. ‘What’s to do?’

  ‘Oh, sir, I’m in such a taking, and that’s a fact.’ She dabbed at fresh tears with her sodden handkerchief.

  ‘Tell Lord Morton why that is,’ Fergus coaxed. ‘You don’t need to worry about shocking him. He will not stand in judgement upon you.’

  He will not?

  Jake watched the young woman fighting to control her emotions. Eyes that were probably cerulean blue were currently swollen and reddened by her distress. A complexion that was undoubtedly flawless as a general rule was today sallow and blotched. Lank blonde curls escaped from beneath her ugly straw bonnet and her full lips appeared to have developed a perpetual quiver. Her fingers were adorned with a series of cuts and her nails were bitten down to the quick. Even so, there could be no disguising the quite exquisite symmetry of her finely etched features. Unusually high cheekbones, a delicate little nose that turned up at the end, wide, haunted eyes and a beautifully sculpted mouth would challenge the protective instincts of every man who came into contact with her.

  Including, he supposed, her husband.

  Expect for the trifling fact that Mabel wore no ring. Which was the reason, Jake presumed, that Fergus did not expect him to cast judgement on her unfortunate condition. Curious.

  ‘My pa is one of the managers at the Armitage Glassworks. Have you heard of it, sir?’

  Jake flashed a glance at Fergus. The Armitage Glassworks was of particular interest to Jake’s organisation at that precise moment. This unusual situation was beginning to make sense to him now. ‘I am aware of its existence,’ he said. ‘Please continue, Mabel.’

  ‘Pa has worked for Mr Armitage since he was a boy. He started as an apprentice and worked his way up.’

  ‘He is a skilled man?’

  Mabel sat a little straighter. ‘That he is, sir. He started off sweeping floors and finished up as a glass-blower before being appointed as an overseer and then manager.’

  ‘He must be a man of remarkable skill and ambition,’ Jake replied.

  ‘And he’s loyal, too.’ A beautiful smile briefly—too briefly—lit up Mabel’s features. ‘He knows Mr Armitage has treated him fairly and was happy to return the favour.’

  ‘How so?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Well, sir, when the men tried to organise themselves and demand higher wages, Pa wouldn’t have anything to do with them and spoke out against their plan, reckoning it would get them all sacked. That was when Mr Armitage made him a manager.’

  Jake surmised that he’d tattled on his fellow workers in order to secure his own advancement but decided not to press the point unless it became relevant. Lloyd could be just the person they’d been looking for to gain a better working knowledge of the glassworks. ‘You work there too?’ he asked instead.

  Mabel widened her eyes. ‘How did you know that, sir?’

  Jake glanced at her fingers and didn’t bother to respond.

  ‘Ah. I sort the fragments of old glass. It’s crushed and mixed in with the things they use to make the new glass. It works out much cheaper that way.’

  Jake’s knowledge of glass manufacture was sketchy but he doubted if the girl could tell him anything he did not already know about the procedure. He also doubted whether glass had anything to do with the predicament that had landed her in his drawing room.

  ‘Tell his lordship what you told my sister and me, Mabel,’ Fergus encouraged.

  ‘Upon my word, sir, I hardly know where to start.’

  Jake refrained from suggesting that the beginning would be as good a place as any and sat back patiently, waiting for the girl’s renewed snuffles to subside.

  ‘My pa and me, sir, we have a nice little cottage in Limehouse, as cosy as you like, close to Mr Armitage’s factory. It’s easy for us both to walk to work.’ Her crying started in earnest again and Jake could only just make out her choked words. ‘Now I’m too ashamed, too scared, to go back there.’

  ‘Scared?’

  ‘Mabel came to the notice of Armitage’s son,’ Fergus explained when it became obvious that the girl was incapable of coherent speech. ‘Henry Armitage married advantageously two years back.’

  Jake eyed Mabel’s midsection and thought to himself that young Armitage had been very busy recently. ‘I see,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, sir, I have been so very wicked! I can’t bear to think about what I did. The shame is killing me. I can’t rightly say how it came to happen either, other than that Mr Henry was so kind to me. It honestly didn’t occur to me to wonder why. I’m not so gr
een that I don’t know what men want…’ She coloured briefly but managed to lift her chin. ‘I just didn’t think Mr Henry would be like that; what with him having such an elegant wife an’ all.’

  ‘Of course you would not suspect his motives,’ Jake said mildly. ‘Pray continue.’

  ‘Well, sir… I mean m’lord… he used to come and talk to me when I was working and seemed very interested in my duties.’ Jake raised an eyebrow and said nothing. ‘I told him that I was keen to improve my reading. Pa made sure I went to church school every day when I was small and I really enjoyed learning my letters.’ She sighed. ‘But I had to leave when I was twelve. Everyone does.’ Jake nodded, aware that not many lasted even that long. They were needed to help their families put bread on the table. Mabel had been fortunate. ‘I love to read but can seldom get my hands on books. I told Mr Henry that when he asked what I liked to do.’

  Jake’s dislike of Henry Armitage grew by the minute. He listened as Mabel’s story, predictable from the moment she mentioned her employer’s son’s interest in her, spilled from her lips in jagged bursts.

  ‘Mr Henry spoke to me like I was his equal.’ Mabel’s eyes widened as though she still found the idea unfathomable, even though she must by now have seen through his ruse. There could be no question that her trust and naivety made her an enticing mixture of beauty and innocence. Even so, workers of Mabel’s class still ought to be beneath their employers’ notice.

  ‘What did you talk about?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Oh, just reading at first. He told me of books he had enjoyed and brought them in for me to borrow. Then, when I returned them to him, he asked me what I’d thought of them.’ She sighed. ‘Only imagine a gentleman caring about my opinion.’

  ‘Remarkable,’ Jake said in a droll tone.

  ‘Then, slowly, we started talking about other things.’ She lifted a tear-stained face for Jake’s inspection. ‘Oh, sir, he was so nice to me but it was obvious that he wasn’t happy and I felt very sorry for him.’

  Just as you were supposed to. ‘Why should your employer’s felicity be of concern to you?’ Jake asked when Mabel was again reduced to sobbing.

  ‘Why, sir, surely you must be aware.’ She blew her nose and sent Jake an admonishing glance. ‘We are all God’s creatures and just because a gentleman is… well, a gentleman… and does not have to concern himself with working just to survive like the rest of us do, it doesn’t follow that he must be happy.’

  Jake held back a smile. ‘I stand corrected.’

  ‘Pardon me, sir. I ought not to have spoken out of turn.’

  ‘Tell his lordship what Armitage confided in you. The source of his discontent,’ Fergus prompted.

  ‘He did speak with me about the matter, sir, and in my innocence I didn’t think it odd at the time. In fact, I was pleased he felt able to confide in me.’ She shook her head, the inevitable tears again filling her eyes. ‘He married a lady of his father’s choosing, you see.’

  ‘Edith Cartwright,’ Fergus said. ‘The barrister’s only daughter.’

  Jake nodded. He knew of Cartwright by reputation. The man had made quite a name for himself at the Old Bailey if the reports of his triumphs that were almost never out of the newspapers were to be believed. Defendants were said to quake in their boots if he prosecuted their cases since he seldom lost, often condemning the unfortunate miscreant to an appointment with the hangman. ‘Young Henry was not happy with the wife his father chose for him?’

  ‘Not in the least.’

  ‘Are you sure he wasn’t simply telling you what you wanted to hear Mabel?’ Jake asked, keeping his tone free of censure.

  ‘Oh no, sir.’ Mabel sat a little straighter and shook her head. ‘He told me all about it.’ She furrowed her brow, clearly searching her memory. ‘“I was deceived regarding her character.’’’ She flashed a triumphant smile. ‘Them was his exact words. He told me she went out of her way to make herself agreeable when they were first introduced. His father encouraged the match and Mr Henry said it was always easier to do as his father wanted. He thought he’d do well enough with Miss Cartwright. But the moment she had his ring on her finger her behaviour changed overnight.’

  ‘Someone’s behaviour certainly did,’ Jake said in an undertone that Mabel seemed too preoccupied to hear.

  ‘Mr Henry said she became demanding and bossy, threatening to run to her papa with tales of neglect and cruelty if she did not get her way in everything.’

  ‘You have a tender heart, Mabel; that much is obvious to me.’ A log on the fire popped with a loud crack, sending showers into the hearth. Jake stood and stretched, nudging an ember back into the fireplace with the toe of a polished boot before returning his attention to Mabel. ‘Naturally such a devastating admission from a gentleman so far above your station in life must have made you feel remarkably privileged,’ he said.

  ‘Oh yes, sir. It was very flattering; I’ll not deny it. We talked for hours. There was nothing to be done about his unhappy marriage, of course, but I don’t think he had anyone else to confide in. Well, that was the only reason I could think of for him being so frank, although naturally I knew it was not in the ordinary way of things for a gentleman to speak to one of his workers in that way. But, you see, I am a very good listener. Mr Henry remarked upon the fact more than once. He said I was uncomplicated and easy to talk to.’

  ‘I am perfectly sure that he did,’ Jake muttered, settling himself in his chair once more and crossing his legs at the ankle.

  ‘I suppose he sensed that I could be trusted not to repeat what we talked about, or to mention our private meetings at all. Not that there was anything improper about them but he explained that it would make trouble for him if he appeared to favour me over the others. Anyway, I told him all about John Travis, my young man. He advised me to think carefully before I committed myself to a lifetime of matrimony. He said over and over that people were not always what they appeared to be and told me to remember it.’ She glanced at her swollen belly. ‘Ha, I’ve reason enough to remember it now!’

  ‘What other advice did he offer?’ Jake asked.

  ‘When I asked why he felt that way, he told me about his wife and got very upset. Naturally, I comforted him to the best of my ability and let him cry on my shoulder.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve never seen a grown man cry before…well, only my pa when Ma passed but I was just a child at the time and too upset to really notice. Anyway, I believed that Mr Henry really was unhappy, felt very sorry for him, we became close and…’

  She broke off to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Her handkerchief was completely soaked through, worse than useless. Jake took his own from his pocket, shook it out and handed it to her. She hesitated as her fingers made contact with the fine linen, but then accepted it with a nod of thanks. ‘And now I am in this condition.’ More sobs. ‘I am so very ashamed, I don’t know how I shall carry on.’

  ‘Where did your talks with Armitage take place?’ Jake asked.

  ‘In his office, sir.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘He invited me there when I finished my work to return the books he loaned me and always wanted to talk about what I’d read.’ Her expression showed incredulity. ‘And he always had another book ready for me to try.’ She straightened her spine and sent Jake a supplicating look. ‘I’m a good girl, sir, and never meant for the situation to get out of hand. I just wanted to repay his kindness and…well, he told me there was no harm in it if we found comfort in one another. Stupidly, I believed him.’

  ‘Tell his lordship what happened when you discovered your condition,’ Fergus said into the ensuring silence.

  Jake suspected that they were getting to the point of this visit at last. Sorry as he was for Mabel, the fall from grace of a factory manager’s daughter was not something that would ordinarily be brought to his attention. Anything to do with Armitage’s Glassworks on the other hand, and most particularly its owners, was definitely relevant. Jake and his network of influential vigilan
tes had been charged by a senior member of the Cabinet to look into their affairs. They were often called upon to involve themselves in sensitive issues—which meant anything that might reflect badly upon the government and that they wished to distance themselves from.

  ‘It didn’t take my pa long to notice there was something odd about me. We are that close, you see. My ma died ten years ago when I was just seven. Pa was heartbroken and never took another wife. I heard whispers that it wasn’t right he should remain single but Pa saw things differently. He told me no one could ever replace Ma and that we were better off alone, just the two of us.’

  ‘I understand that Mabel was her father’s delight,’ Fergus explained.

  ‘Was?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Tell the rest, Mabel,’ Fergus coaxed.

  ‘Pa was ready to horsewhip John Travis.’

  ‘John Travis?’ Jake frowned. ‘As yes, your young man.’

  ‘He’s apprenticed to a glassblower and expected to do well for himself. It’s a position everyone in the glassworks wants because it’s the best paid.’ A brief flash of pride replaced the devastation in her expression. ‘We were talking of getting wed as soon as he could afford to keep me. Pa approved of him, said he was steady and reliable and would take good care of me.’ Mabel drew in a shuddering breath. ‘When Pa thought John had brought disgrace upon us I had to tell him it wasn’t John who was to blame.’ She snuffled. ‘It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. To see the disappointment in his eyes made me that ashamed. I’ve never seen him half so angry. I feared for his health, and that’s a fact.’

  ‘This is the interesting part,’ Fergus said while Mabel took yet another moment to compose herself.

  ‘Pa went straight to see Mr Henry’s father and told him what had happened. I don’t know what was said but I was told by others that raised voices were heard all over the factory. Mr Henry was sent for and denied having been anywhere near me.’ She shook her head, her expression one of complete devastation. ‘I couldn’t believe it and still don’t.’