A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(51)
“Poor Mr Tweedie. No wonder he was so eager to dine with us on the day of the fog. Goodness, Charles, we have walked nearly all the way home. We were talking so hard I had not noticed. You are a very comfortable person to walk with, not like Julia who is always looking around and commenting on the people and who is coming out of which house.”
“Unless she is arguing with you and banging into them.”
Verity shuddered. “Oh, pray do not remind me. I do not like him, but I was mortified that Sir Philip thought us thieves. I can still feel his grip on my arms. He was so fast!”
Charles listened to his mother’s discourse with every appearance of interest as he watched Verity, Julia and Kitty converse in quick low voices on the other side of the room. He saw the moment Verity told her sister about Captain Eastwick’s treatment of Susan Norris and Hannah, the Cattsons’ unfortunate maid. Kitty’s face turned ashen and her hand flew to her mouth. It was some minutes before she regained enough command over herself to speak. When she did, Charles could see it was with an effort.
He murmured an excuse to his mother and crossed to where the ladies were sitting.
Verity made a space for him on the sofa without turning to see him approach. “She will come to us,” she said.
Charles nodded. “You have my sympathy, Mrs Eastwick. It is no light thing to discover your husband to be an unprincipled blackguard.”
“I always knew him to be unprincipled,” she replied in a choked voice. “I knew he collected money from these houses, though I thought he passed that on, and I knew what the houses were. How could I not when he has also used me on occasion. I swear I thought the women willing, as others of my friends are. I had not realised him to be so evil towards innocents.” Her throat worked again. “And all for a transient monetary gain, gone on the turn of a card. Ann and I will be ready whenever you send word.”
“You cannot bring much with you,” he warned. “It is important not to arouse his suspicions if he sees things missing from their accustomed place.”
She made a dismissive gesture. “There is little I need to pack. I have not so many good clothes that I will notice their loss. The only important item apart from Ann’s old rag doll is the cookery book Mama gave me when I was to marry Mr Prout. It saved my life. I brought it away with me as a reminder of her when we eloped, but then discovered it to be the most necessary thing I possessed when I found myself with no cook, no maid and no money. It was the only time I let fly at Simon, when I returned from the market one time and found he had taken it to pawn. I screamed at him that if he did not pawn something else and get my Domestic Cookery back - my book, no other one - then he would starve just as surely as me and have nowhere to bring his card-playing friends. I told him the only way that book would leave me again was if I went first, in a coffin.” She gave the ghost of a shrug, her eyes bleak. “I paid the price later, but I got it back.”
Charles did not question her further. “To bring this off with any degree of success neither Verity nor I should be seen to be involved, so it will be a friend of mine who comes for you, and it will be at a time when your husband is not at home. What period of the day is best?”
“He is in and out during the morning, but generally for longer in the afternoon. I used to believe that was when he settled down to fleece young men of their pocketbooks at whist. Now I do not know what to think.”
Verity pressed her hand sympathetically.
“I will tell Nick to keep a watch on your address,” said Charles. “He will give you a codeword, perhaps something to the effect that he is interested in a rare cookery book. Will that suffice?”
Kitty Eastwick nodded. “Will it be soon? It is not that I cannot live a lie for much longer, knowing what I do now - it is that I think Simon is more than usually in need of finance, so his actions may be unpredictable. He asked me yesterday how much Mama would pay us to take Ann and bring her up. I do not dare contemplate what else he might do. If I could leave her here today, I would, but he will be waiting for us on Piccadilly and would doubtless march me straight back here to demand payment should I meet him without her.”
“He would sell his own child? Good God, he is a monster.”
Kitty’s voice became little more than a whisper. “I believe so indeed. He must have loved me once, to have married me with no dowry, but that has long passed.”
“It will be soon,” promised Charles. “Within the week.” He thought for a moment. “I begin to have an idea. I will walk with you when you leave, if I may. I can go that way to my chambers as well as any other. It will do no harm, I think, to reinforce the idea that you are now not without friends.”
“We will come too, as we did before, but we cannot accompany you beyond Bond Street,” said Verity. “He and Julia must not meet or he will realise his history is known.”
“I could wish you both as far away as possible,” said Charles with feeling.
“We will see you soon, I hope,” said Verity at the end of the road. She kissed Ann and hugged her sister.
Kitty returned the embrace. “He is a good man, your Mr Congreve,” she murmured in Verity’s ear. “Do not let him get away.”
“I have no intention of it. He is presently being stubborn and full of pride, but I have every hope of wearing him down.”
They waved them off, and Verity took a moment to admire the straightness of Charles’s back as he walked beside Kitty and Ann.