A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(29)
Charles frowned at the name.
Kitty glanced at him quickly. “You know the area? Yes, naturally you do. In those early years I became only too accustomed to moving from place to place in a quest for cheaper situations. Water Street was the worst. While we were there, Simon went away to find work. I was close to birthing Ann and frantic with fear - but Molly saw to all. She was with me throughout and showed me how to go on. I was so grateful. I would have been dead without her and her mother, I am sure. I can never repay her. A month later Simon returned with money in his pocket and we moved to better rooms, but I remained friends with Molly.”
“As well you are not still there,” said Charles, a grim set to his voice. “Even the authorities fear to go into the Alsatia district. It is a desperate place.”
“It is all of that. We have never been in quite such bad straights since. Simon follows a pattern of sorts. Every now and again he goes away for three or four weeks and returns in funds. For a while he lives like a king and then he gambles it away. He is not a weak man, but everything is always the present with him. He has no notion of setting coin aside against the future. I learnt very soon never to scratch together any savings. He would take it and spend it and never think that there would be no money for food or coal. Now I keep just enough to live on, and instead lay in frippery.” She waved a hand at the counters around them. “Small feminine items like handkerchiefs, ribbons, belts - little things that I can pawn for the price of a meal.”
“Is he in business, your husband?” asked Charles. “He is evidently not a serving soldier.”
“No, he... he has interests that bring in money,” said Kitty. “He does business near the docks. He buys and sells. He undertakes commissions. Sometimes these take him out of town. I don’t ask about them. He... brings people together and he also has power over them.”
“Power?” asked Charles.
“Everything, every scrap of knowledge is currency in his book. He mines it, and reuses it. I told you he is a gambler. If he would only limit himself to cards and not games of chance, we would be comfortable, for he is skilled at anything requiring memory and the foibles of others.” She grimaced. “The men he plays with are not so fortunate. There have been many over the years. He has that air of dominance and recklessness that attracts followers. For a long while he would run card games at home, but he has been more particular these past several months about keeping his business away from the house. I do not know why, but I am grateful for it.” She swallowed. “He thrives on victory and has no compassion. It was not pleasant to see his opponents crushed, handing over everything they possessed.”
Verity was feeling nauseous at the picture her sister painted. What a life Kitty must have been living.
Charles looked grave. “Mrs Eastwick, you realise I am an attorney?”
Her expression was frank. “I do. Your name is not unknown amongst my acquaintance. I wondered if you were the same Mr Congreve that Verity used to know, but I didn’t see how you could be. Pay-me-later, they call you, do they not? I regret to say Simon thinks of you and your kind as saps, to give your time for no reward. I also know that even unpaid, you help those who are unable to help themselves. It is why I am talking so freely, though my own situation is beyond aid. I readily admit I was fascinated by Simon. I married him of my own free will - indeed, I could have done naught else - so I have no rights, but I would be rid of this life, Mr Congreve. Scales fall slowly, but they do fall. I have done things out of desperation that I cannot relate out of shame. I thought there was no way out.”
“Kitty,” began Verity.
Kitty’s face softened as she looked at her. “That is what I thought. Then yesterday Verity appeared in front of me and cracked open a hole in my world. If there is a means of escape, and if above all things I can keep Ann safe, I will take it. It worries me, though, that Simon will hear of me talking to you, even here in a linen-draper’s shop. He has eyes and ears everywhere and as I said, you are not unknown.”
“Then tell your husband the truth,” said Verity. “That I have an inheritance from my uncle, but in order to receive it, I must prove to the executors that I can spend six months in a rational manner. Poor Charles, it is the greatest bore for him to be forced to accompany me on a daily basis. You can, perhaps, mention how irritable he looked as I pored over lengths of linen for curtaining or the table and what a waste of time he clearly thought it.” She smiled up at Charles as she spoke, and was amused to see him return her a haughty look.
“Tedious in the extreme,” he agreed. He turned away and dropped his voice. “Mrs Eastwick, your friend Molly mentioned a certain word that you may know. A name, I believe it to be, though she did not say it as such. It is not in any way a condition on my helping you, but I would know more if it is in either your or her power to tell me.”
Kitty became a shade paler. “I know very little except the name, but it is one my husband is chary of. Please, I cannot say more. No one can.”
“Then do not,” said Verity. “I will write a note of invitation today and send it. Do call tomorrow, if you can. Mama is so much longing to see you and Ann.”
“And I her. I will come. Now that I have talked to you, I am determined. I will tell Simon I have hopes of her sponsoring Ann to an education such as your godmother gave you.” She gave a bitter laugh. “It extends the fiction between us that all is well. I cannot stay talking any longer, I’m sorry. Ann and I must get to the market to bargain for ingredients for today’s broth.”