Heirs and Graces Page 11
‘I hope Henry is not so debauched that he makes a habit of such behaviour,’ Amelia replied briskly. ‘I was not surprised about Mabel because I had heard the odd whisper regarding Henry’s friendship with her on one or two occasions when I visited the glassworks. It was unusual enough that people were bound to notice. And talk.’
‘And Mabel is lovely enough to tempt any man, I should think, especially one trapped in an unhappy marriage,’ Olivia remarked.
‘Yes, she is certainly that,’ Amelia agreed. ‘And something happened a week or two ago that makes sense now I have heard Mabel’s story. I misplaced one of my favourite books, you see, and asked Henry if he had seen it. It was an old classic that belonged to my mother and I would have been sorry to lose it.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose all such heirlooms will be lost to me now. Papa will not allow me to return home and reclaim them.’
‘They are only possessions, Amelia,’ Eva said softly. ‘They can be replaced but no one can take away your memories.’
‘You are right.’ Amelia smiled at both ladies; loyal friends whom she barely knew but felt more at home with already than she ever had with her own family. ‘Anyway, about my book, I asked Henry, expecting him to deny all knowledge of it. But to my utter surprise he said he had loaned it to someone who wanted to improve their reading and that I would have it back soon. When Mabel said that Henry lent her books I knew she was speaking the truth. Besides, there was honesty in her expression. There would be no profit in lying about something so important that could most likely be easily disproven if it was untrue.’
‘What a very sensible attitude to take,’ Olivia said, nodding her approval. ‘Particularly when you must have been so shocked.’
‘Well, Mabel is not the first young woman in our part of the world who has found herself in trouble and I try not to be too judgemental. It is always the woman whose reputation suffers whilst the man responsible gets away scot free.’ Amelia tossed her head. ‘I don’t approve of the way Henry treated Mabel, playing upon her innocence to gain her trust, and I would not have you think that I do.’ She paused to sip her tea and sighed. ‘I have never had much in common with my brother. But still, he is my brother, and given the way Edith leads him such a merry dance, I cannot bring myself to entirely condemn him for seeking solace elsewhere. It is what men do all the time, is it not?’
‘Undeniably,’ Olivia replied.
‘However, I am very sorry for Mabel and if Papa does not make good on his promise to provide for her and the baby then I will find a way to do so myself.’
‘I suspect your father will be made to see reason,’ Olivia replied. ‘Jake can be very persuasive.’
‘What is his real interest in Papa’s business?’ Amelia asked, putting her empty cup aside and fixing Olivia with an inquisitive look.
‘Jake sometimes provides a service for the government,’ Olivia said, sounding evasive. ‘I am not at liberty to reveal all the particulars. Suffice it to say, he would not be called in to investigate the disappearance of a factory manager. Without wishing to alarm you, there are more sinister forces at play. However, now that he knows Lloyd is missing he will do his best to find him, hopefully alive and well.’
‘His disappearance just happens to coincide with the real reason for his investigation?’ Amelia raised a brow. ‘How extraordinary.’
‘Perhaps the two occurrences are connected,’ Olivia replied. ‘Only time will tell.’
The children tumbled into the room for their customary afternoon playtime with their mothers and further opportunity for private discourse was lost to the ladies. As predicted, Tabitha awoke and hastily slipped through the open door. Amelia watched the little ones with an indulgent eye and was soon drawn into their games. Tom in particular was not shy and took to her as though they had met many times before.
The time flew past with much laughter and before she knew it, it was time for Amelia to deliver herself into the capable hands of Olivia’s maid. She knew she was not particularly attractive but was anxious to look the best that she possibly could. That desire had nothing to do with the fact that Lord Willard was to dine with them. It was simply the natural consequence of wanting to boost her failing confidence as the enormity of her rebellion finally struck home. She had found the courage to walk away from her family, leaving everything that was familiar behind her, and there would be no going back.
She wondered how frantic they were in Limehouse. Her defection must have been discovered many hours since. Did they imagine she would return defeated, ready to beg her father’s forgiveness? Most likely since she had no friends that her father knew about; no one to help her.
‘I am sorry to disappoint you, Papa,’ she said aloud as she stripped off her gown and commenced her ablutions, ‘but we shall not be meeting again.’
***
John Travis thought the day’s shift would never end. Weariness brought on through a combination of tiredness, anger and worry had led to carelessness. He made several basic errors that day, costing him the sharp edge of the overseer’s tongue and the deduction of sixpence from his wages.
He trudged with the men he worked with in the direction of The Grapes, listening to their desultory conversation without making any contribution to it. Where the devil was Mabel? She had disappeared off the face of the earth just a few days after her father had also gone missing. It couldn’t be a coincidence.
John was plagued with guilt for allowing his injured pride to hold him back when she came to him for help. He had dismissed her concerns about her father, saying he was most likely away on Armitage’s business and had forgotten to mention it. Thanks to Mabel’s loose behaviour, he had more pressing concerns on his mind. She had winced at his harsh words and John and been glad at the time to strike a blow.
How he now wished those words back. She had been fraught with worry but John had been too angry with Mabel for giving in to that bastard Armitage—giving him what ought to have been John’s—to do anything other than wallow in self-pity. John had loved Mabel with all of his heart and, damn it, he still couldn’t get thoughts of her out of his head, not even after her betrayal. Everything he had done had been with a view to making a decent home for her; making her proud of him as a husband and provider—dedicating the rest of his life to worshipping her and never giving her a moment’s regret for marrying him.
But his lively, playful, exquisitely beautiful Mabel—the only woman who would ever own his heart—was now damaged beyond redemption. It infuriated him that he could have married her before now and it could be his child she was carrying. Their kisses had become increasingly passionate over the months and it would have been easy to persuade her. But, oh no, John harnessed his urges and behaved with chivalry. Mabel was a beacon in the otherwise drudge of daily life in this part of London and John was determined to do right by her.
Fool!
He scowled, recalling the warnings he had given her about Armitage; telling her time and again that the rogue wasn’t only interested in improving her reading. But Mabel had been too innocent, too trusting, to listen to a word John said. And a little dazzled, he supposed, by Armitage’s charm. Damn the man! He had a wife of his own; a harsh woman who thought well of herself, but still…a wife nonetheless. Men in Armitage’s position seemed to think they could do as they pleased without being called to account for their behaviour. And, of course, they could. Armitage was the boss’s son. No one would believe Mabel when she said he had impregnated her. Well, they might believe it, he supposed. Her friendship with Armitage had been the talk of the factory, but she was the one who was labelled loose when he condition could no longer be concealed. John had seen the way their neighbours shunned her. To his shame he had sided with them because he had been made to look a fool and because he was hurting so damned much that he wanted her to hurt as well.
John had tried to tell Mabel’s pa that she was heading for trouble before it actually happened but he had waved John’s concerns aside, probably thinking he was jealous. And he was
, of course, but when John’s prediction became fact, Lloyd seemed convinced he could make Armitage pay for his misdeeds. John had felt too sorry for himself and for what he himself had lost to try and make Lloyd see sense. It was no longer anything to do with him.
Then Lloyd disappeared without a trace.
John sighed as he traipsed through the doors to The Grapes and waited to be served. He hadn’t taken two sups of ale before a light hand touched his arm. Just for a fleeting moment he thought it was Mabel and his heart lifted. Then Sally Bairstow’s face came into view and John couldn’t hide his disappointment.
‘There you are,’ she said, kissing his cheek. ‘Don’t forget Ma invited you to have supper with us tonight.’
‘Can’t,’ John said sullenly.
‘Aw, come on, John, you’ve got to eat.’ She slipped her arm around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder, her hair thin and lank. Mabel’s had always been clean and smelt of roses, even after a full day’s work in the factory. ‘You promised. You’re not still hankering after that hussy, are you? She’s gone and good riddance to her, that’s what I say.’
John shook her off, none too gently, and concentrated his attention on his ale. Sally had always had him in her sights and resented Mabel for being the one to win his heart. In a moment of weakness and self-pity in the wake of Mabel’s revelation, he’d turned to Sally in a petty attempt to exact revenge. Now he couldn’t get shot of her. She had a vicious tongue and a vindictive streak, gloried in Mabel’s downfall and didn’t care who knew it. John didn’t need her; didn’t need any woman in his life. There were nothing but trouble.
‘Go home, Sally,’ he said. ‘I won’t be coming with you.’
‘Oh, love, you’re just feeling grumpy.’ She sent him what was probably supposed to be a seductive smile. ‘I can think of ways to fix that. My Ma goes to bed early and we’ll have the place to ourselves once she does.’
John was well aware that she would use that situation to try and finish up in the same condition as Mabel. Then John would be forced to marry her. Not a chance!
‘Just go!’
‘I can see you’re in a mood,’ she said, pouting. ‘So I’ll leave you to brood but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.’
John simply nodded, emptied his tankard in one long swallow and called for a refill. When he looked round again Sally was across the room, openly flirting with someone else from the glassworks, presumably in the hope of making John jealous. John wanted to laugh. Had Sally learned nothing from Mabel’s situation? He wasn’t the type to take on another man’s leavings and there was an end to the matter.
Sally left the tavern in company with his workmate, glancing over her shoulder to make sure John noticed. He waved her away, which caused her face to fall.
Another man, a stranger, had been standing at the bar further along from John all the time Sally had been trying to wheedle and coerce him into a more congenial frame of mind. He moved up to John’s side now and grimaced.
‘Woman trouble?’ he asked sympathetically.
‘She ain’t my woman.’
‘And she’s going about it the wrong way it if she wants to be, if you ask me.’
John hadn’t but saw no reason to say so. He concentrated on his ale and remained silent.
‘I was waiting for her to go because I think you might be the person I was hoping to find,’ John’s as yet unnamed companion remarked. ‘I didn’t want to speak in front of the woman. Are you by any chance John Travis?’
John frowned at the man, his suspicions suddenly on high alert. Odd things had been happening around these parts; not least of which was Lloyd’s disappearance and then Mabel’s. Being too trusting of strangers could get a man into trouble, especially strangers who knew a man’s name and were too well dressed for the place he was drinking in. A clean shirt, reasonably smart jacket and good quality boots. But he was no gentleman.
‘Who’s asking?’
‘The name’s Franklin.’ John instinctively shook the man’s outstretched hand. ‘I work for a solicitor.’
‘I don’t have any business with solicitors.’ John returned his attention to his half-empty tankard. ‘You’ve got the wrong man.’
‘Let me get you another.’ Franklin attracted the barmaid’s attention and procured refills for them both. ‘You are John Travis?’
‘I’m obliged to you,’ John said, raising his full tankard to Franklin. If the man was willing to buy him ale, then John would talk to him. Besides, he was more curious than suspicious now. Why would a solicitor’s clerk be looking for him? ‘And yeah, that’s my name, but I still don’t see how I can help you.’
‘I’ve been sent to make enquiries about Samuel Lloyd.’
John’s head jerked up, his hand shook and ale slopped over it. ‘You know where Mabel is?’ he asked, hope flaring as he returned his tankard to the bar.
‘Sorry, no. That’s Lloyd’s daughter?’ John nodded. ‘I was planning to call on her next.’
‘Nobody’s seen her for two days.’
‘Ah, that is worrying.’ Franklin furrowed his brow. ‘Things don’t look good.’
‘Why is a solicitor looking for Samuel?’
‘He had an appointment with my master a week ago. It was important but he didn’t show up. I can’t tell you what the business was about.’
But John could guess. Knowing Sam, he’d probably come up with the crazy notion of taking legal action to force Armitage into recognising Mabel’s baby. The fool! The Armitages of this world always won; not necessarily by fair means. John was no longer surprised that Sam had disappeared. A chill ran through him when it occurred to him that her father’s headstrong action was probably responsible for Mabel’s disappearance too.
‘My master was sufficiently worried to have me make enquiries,’ Franklin said, recalling John’s wandering attention. ‘He would not have missed the appointment unless something more important prevented him from keeping it.’ Franklin took a sip of his ale and wiped froth from his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Now you tell me that Mabel has gone missing too. I don’t like this business above half.’
‘I wish I could help,’ John said, meaning it. His self-pity seemed petty to him now. He wanted to rise above it and make amends.
‘Perhaps you can. How much do you know about the goings-on at the glassworks? And I don’t mean the state of their order book.’
John snorted. ‘Goings-on about sums it up.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Never mind.’ John sighed, thinking he owed his employers no loyalty. There were always other jobs, especially now that he wasn’t saving to get wed and had no one’s welfare to consider other than his own. ‘If you mean, do other things go on there then yeah, I’ve seen stuff.’ He looked over his shoulder. ‘But I can’t talk about it. Not here.’
‘Would you be—?’
John opened his eyes wide and felt anger surge through him when he saw who had just walked in, causing a momentary hush to fall over the packed taproom. ‘What the hell is he doing here?’
Franklin followed the direction of John’s gaze. ‘Who is he? He looks like a gent.’
‘Looks can be deceiving,’ John replied derisively.
Both men watched as Henry Armitage questioned of one or two of the more senior employees from the glassworks. The men in question doffed their caps deferentially but whatever they had to say to him didn’t detain Armitage for long.
‘That,’ John said in delayed response to Franklin’s question, ‘is Henry Armitage, the boss’s son. He’s about as out of place in here as a virgin in a brothel. Mind you,’ he added bitterly, ‘virgins don’t stay that way for long when he gets his hands on ’em.’
Before Franklin could respond, Armitage joined them.
‘Travis,’ he said, sounding hesitant.
John curled his upper lip and did not reply. If incivility towards his employer’s son cost him his position, he was beyond caring.
‘I e
r…that is, I wonder if you had happened to see my sister anywhere today.’ He glanced at Franklin. John didn’t introduce him and Franklin didn’t move away. ‘She went out on an errand this morning and has not yet returned home. We are worried about her.’
Now you know how it feels.
‘Sorry about that,’ John said, insincerity in his voice. ‘Presumably you have checked with all her friends?’
Armitage shuffled his feet, uncharacteristically subdued, and nodded. ‘Well, if you hear anything…’
‘Perhaps she and Mabel are together,’ John suggested maliciously.
‘Mabel?’ Armitage’s head shot up. ‘Where is she?’
Armitage looked alarmed, as though he really didn’t know that Mabel was no longer around to flaunt her condition and embarrass the Armitages.
‘Same place as her father, I shouldn’t wonder,’ John said, fixing Armitage with an expression of unmitigated dislike.
Armitage grabbed John’s shoulder in a vicelike grip. ‘Mabel is missing too?’ He scowled. ‘When? How long has she been gone? What’s been done to try and find her?’ He shook John’s arm when he was slow to respond. ‘Tell me, man!’
John looked down at Henry Armitage’s clean and well-manicured hand gripping his shoulder, then slowly raised his eyes to meet Armitage’s stare. He didn’t need to say anything.
Armitage released his hold, leaving John seething and unmoved by his nemesis’s faux concern. Somehow he resisted the urge to land a blow in the middle of the arrogant sod’s face. He wanted to tell him it was a bit late to worry about Mabel’s welfare. He couldn’t turn his back on her fast enough when she discovered the consequences of her indiscretion. John ignored the little voice clamouring to be heard inside his head, telling him that he had let her down too. He had been too wrapped up in his own misery to accept it hadn’t been entirely Mabel’s fault.