She entered the house filled with resolve. Lucas must be made to understand that Matt was not the villain he made him out to be. It was time to forgive and forget. And no one was perfect. With a little goodwill all round, everything would work out for the best.
As she crossed to the stairs, she heard a noise in the library. Thinking it was Lucas, she changed direction, knocked on the door and entered. It wasn’t Lucas who was sitting at the desk, but Jessica.
“Jessica, what are you doing?”
Jessica looked up with a start, but when she saw who it was, she smiled. “I gave Lucas a letter to frank, a letter for Anne Rankin, but now I want to add something to it. It must be here somewhere.” She indicated the pile of letters that were strewn across the desk.
Rosemary came further into the room. “I think you’re too late. I believe he took all the letters with him this morning when he went out. Do you know when he’ll be back?”
Jessica sat back in Lucas’s great leather chair and studied her mother-in-law. There was a strained look about her she hadn’t noticed when she’d first entered the library. “He said he had some errands to run but he’ll be here for dinner. Rosemary, are you all right?”
Rosemary brushed a hand over her eyes. “A slight headache. Nothing that wearing my spectacles won’t cure. Vanity will be my undoing.” When she smiled, Jessica smiled with her. “Is Ellie home?”
Jessica shook her head. “Bella came up to town unexpectedly
to do some shopping, and she and Ellie went out together.”
“No doubt Ellie will give us all the details of her outing over dinner. Bella is all she ever talks about. I wish Lucas …” She broke off and sighed. “Well, Lucas won’t, so there’s no point in raising the subject.”
When Rosemary left, Jessica let out a slow breath. She knew that her mother-in-law was disappointed that she and Ellie had not become friends. Maybe she should do more. But it didn’t seem to matter what she did, Ellie continued to rebuff every overture. Today’s shopping expedition was an example. Jessica had invited herself along by saying that it would give her the chance to return her books to the circulating library. It turned out that Bella and Ellie were walking in the opposite direction, to pay a call on Bella’s dressmaker. She hadn’t pressed the point when she saw that she wasn’t wanted. That never helped. All it did was get Ellie’s back up.
Sighing, she looked down at the letters she’d been going through and began to put them in order. Yesterday, she wouldn’t have had the confidence to enter her husband’s book room and go through his personal things. But now that they were lovers, everything had changed.
She sat for a long time, a little smile tucking up the corners of her mouth, just thinking about Lucas. He made her feel warm and cherished. Right this minute, he was making inquiries about Rodney Stone, not because he thought anything had happened to him, but because he wanted to set her mind at rest. If she would have peace of mind only by producing Mr. Stone, he’d told her, then that’s what he would do.
When she stood up to leave, her hand brushed against something and a sheet of vellum fluttered to the floor. She wasn’t deliberately prying, she told herself; she didn’t think it right to read her husband’s personal correspondence. But when she saw her own name, her eyes read on with a will of their own.
It was a letter from Lucas’s attorney informing him that, as instructed, he’d paid out various sums of money from the trust fund he’d set up for Jessica Hayward. The names of the recipients were Rupert Haig and Adrian Wilde.
She folded the letter and placed it on top of Lucas’s correspondence. He’d told her that he’d borrowed money from his friends to buy Hawkshill. It seemed odd that he would wait so long before paying off the debt.
Deep in thought, she left the room.
Jessica sank onto her bed and began to braid her hair. She was remembering how she had awakened that morning, in this very bed, in her husband’s arms, savoring the intimacy she shared with him. She’d felt happy and hopeful and unafraid. All that had disappeared during a dinner filled with tension. Her mother-in-law was distracted, Ellie subdued, and Lucas’s mind obviously elsewhere. Then Rosemary had made an innocuous remark and the atmosphere between mother and son became charged.
“Sir Matthew,” Rosemary said, “is putting his place in Chalford up for sale. I thought it would be nice if we gave a party for him, you know, for all our Chalford friends.”
Without looking up, Lucas replied, “I didn’t know Sir Matthew had any friends.”
“Lucas,” said Rosemary, “you know that’s not true. Sir Matthew is very well liked.”
“Not by me.”
The coolness in his voice surprised Jessica, and she groped in her mind for a remark that would ease the tension. “He was very kind to me,” she said, “that night at the Haigs’ place when I fell, and he found me.”
“Sir Matthew Paige,” said Lucas evenly, “is one person who will never cross the threshold of any house of mine.”
He was looking at his mother as he spoke, and Jessica felt as though she were seeing the face of a stranger. “Lucas—”
He held up a hand. “Why don’t you and Ellie take your coffee in the drawing room, Jessica? I think my mother has something she wishes to say to me. We’ll join you later.”
“But Lucas—”
“Now.”
The word was softly spoken, but it was a command for all that. She and Ellie left at once, but neither Lucas nor his mother joined them. It was left to a servant to tell them that Mrs. Wilde had retired to her room, and his lordship had gone out.
All the vague promise of things to come that had buoyed her up during the day evaporated into thin air, leaving a void in its place. She’d thought she knew Lucas, understood him, was close to him, but clearly what she knew was only the tip of the iceberg.
Perhaps it wasn’t possible to truly know anyone. No one was transparent. Everyone wore a mask. But Lucas hadn’t been wearing a mask when he’d spoken to his mother. She did not think she would ever forget the cruel, hard set of his features, or the coldness in his voice.
She lay awake for a long time, waiting for him to come to her, but he never appeared. And in the morning, it was as if the contretemps over dinner had never taken place. Life went on as before. If smiles faded, they were quickly restored. No one apologized. No explanations were offered.
And no one mentioned Sir Matthew’s name.
CHAPTER
22
T
he convent of the sisters of charity was located a short distance from Fleet Street, near the Temple Bar. The houses here were squalid and crowded to the rafters. Taverns proliferated. Vice flourished. Respectable citizens passed through the streets in the safety of their carriages, unless they were officers of the law or the nuns from the convent. The former were given a wide berth, and the latter were treated with a kind of affectionate tolerance. The nuns were known to be softhearted, and anyone who tried to harm them knew that he would have an angry mob howling for his blood.
Jessica had not severed her ties to the convent. As the wife of an earl, she was in a position to enlist the resources of people who could make a real difference to the sisters’ work, both financially and in a practical way, by offering jobs for their older children. But what she liked best was to come to the convent, as her social engagements allowed, and spend time with the younger children in the nursery.
This was one of these days. Lucas had left the house
early on some business and was not expected back till evening. Rosemary was spending a few days with friends in Canterbury. And Ellie was with Bella. That meant the day belonged to her to do what she pleased.
She was on her knees, bathing one of the babies, when Sister Brigid brought a visitor to see her.
“Miss Bragge,” said Sister Brigid, and gave a telling sniff.
Jessica was in the act of lifting little Sarah from the tub and could not turn around to see who had entered. She thought she must have misheard the name in the confusion. It was feeding time and several babies were exercising their lungs at full pitch.
Having swaddled Sarah in a towel, she turned to look at her visitor. When she saw that it really was Ellie, she was surprised. She’d invited Ellie to tour the convent several times, and the invitation had been steadfastly refused. This, of course, was Bella’s influence. Bella’s heart was too tender to witness the sufferings of these unfortunate children, so she claimed, and Ellie had decided she felt the same.
Jessica tucked Sarah firmly into the crook of one arm and rose to her feet. “Where is Bella?”
“She left this morning for Chalford.”
“For Chalford? Then who brought you here?”
“I brought myself in a hackney. Jessica, it’s Pip. I don’t know where he is.”
Jessica knew how close Ellie was to her page, but Ellie’s distress surprised her. “One of the servants has probably sent him on an errand. If I know Pip, he’ll be back before his next meal is due.”
“Oh, if that were only it!” cried Ellie. Her face crumpled and she burst into tears.
Jessica brought Ellie to her former cell and she waited until the fit of weeping had run its course before beginning to question her. She’d already gathered that Ellie
believed Pip had run away, and that he might have taken refuge at the convent.
“I don’t believe he’s run away,” Jessica said bracingly, “but even if he has, it wouldn’t be the first time. Girls are much easier to manage. That’s why we send them to our school in Chelsea. Girls want to learn, you see. Sometimes
I
think boys are born just to cause trouble.”
There was no answering smile from Ellie, but she did try to compose herself. She blew her nose with the handkerchief Jessica had given her, and dabbed her eyes. She was sitting on the cot, and Jessica was sitting on the only chair.
“He’s only eight,” said Ellie wretchedly.
“But much wiser than his years.”
Ellie looked up, and for the first time since entering the cell, allowed her eyes to meet Jessica’s. “Jessica,” she said, “did you really live in this place for three years?”
“Yes. Why?”
Ellie shrugged. “It’s so … grim.”
“That’s because you are comparing it with how
you
live. If you could see the wretched hovels these children come from, you would look at our convent with different eyes. This is a place of hope for them. Without the love and devotion of the nuns, their fate would truly be grim. Now tell me about Pip.”
Ellie looked down at the handkerchief she was tying into knots. “I failed him, Jessica,” she said in a small, contrite voice.
Jessica seriously doubted it. There was much about Ellie that she could fault, but not how the girl had interested herself in her page’s welfare. Ellie had kept up Pip’s lessons and seen to it that the other servants made allowances for his background.
“How did you fail him?” she asked.
“I knew he was worried about his brother.” Ellie looked up, her eyes filled with misery.
“I
wanted to tell you three nights ago, but I didn’t know how to begin.”
“Pip has several brothers. Which one do you mean?”
“His younger brother, Martin. He went to work for Rupert as a stable boy.”
Jessica nodded. “Martin has always wanted to work with horses. Not that he knows the first thing about them. Go on.”
“The thing is, Bella thought, after I wrote to her about Pip, that she would like a page, too. So, she made Martin her page.” The trickle of words became a spate. “But Martin broke things and Bella was angry. She punished him and he ran away. But Bella didn’t care. She went back to Chalford without even trying to find him. And this morning,”—she swallowed hard—“Pip didn’t bring me my chocolate, and no one knows where he is.”
“Martin is missing, too?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you known?”
Ellie’s eyes dropped away. “The day I went shopping with Bella.”
For a moment, Jessica was speechless, then she jumped to her feet. “So that’s why you were so silent at dinner that night! A little boy has been missing for three days, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Bella said that he was only playing truant. She said he would come back, and it would teach him a lesson when he found that she’d gone back to Chalford without him. Bella said that he’d come back when he was hungry.”
“ ‘Bella said’,” snapped Jessica. “What does Bella know about these children? What does she know about living on the streets of London? What does Bella know about what children who find themselves in desperate straits will do just to stay alive?”
Ellie’s voice was tortured. “Jessica, I didn’t know.”
“Oh, yes you did! That night at dinner, you were having an attack of conscience, but I was too blind to see it. Because of your dislike of me, no, your
hatred
of me, you let two innocent children suffer. You were right in saying
you failed Pip. When you didn’t try to find his brother, what choice did he have but to look for him himself.”
Tears were streaming down Ellie’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Jessica. I’m so sorry.”
“Spare me,” Jessica snapped.
She began to undo the buttons on her gown. Ellie was too chastened to say anything. She sat there in misery as Jessica threw off her gown and began to dress in the nun’s habit that hung on a hook on the back of the door. When Jessica reached for the wimple, Ellie cleared her throat.
“Jessica,” she whispered at last, “what are we going to do about Pip and Martin?”
“I’ll find them,” said Jessica. She was at the scrap of a mirror on the wall, adjusting her wimple so that no hair showed.
Ellie said, “I’d like to come with you.”
“Oh no.” Jessica turned to face her. “I shall be going into places you could never imagine existed. And I don’t want you to see them or what goes on there. Besides, Lucas would be enraged if he thought I’d permitted you to see such dens of vice, never mind enter them.”
“But I want to make amends.”
Now that she was primed for action, Jessica’s anger had abated somewhat. “Perhaps you do, but I have more important things to think about than your peace of mind.”
“But—”