A Mother's Courage (16 page)

In the light of what the Revered Martin Collins
had said, Reggie's proposal looked like an easy
way out, but tempting as it was she simply could
not marry a man for whom she felt nothing more
than friendship. Eloise raised her head to look
steadily into Reggie's eyes. She knew she was
going to hurt him, but far better to do it now than
to marry him and make his life miserable in the
future. 'You hardly know me, Reggie.'

'I know you well enough, lass. Sometimes it
only takes a moment for a man to know he's in
love with a lass, and will be for the rest of his life.'

'I'm so sorry, Reggie,' Eloise said gently. 'You
are a dear, sweet man, but I cannot marry you.'

He dropped his gaze and bowed his shaggy
head. 'I know I'm a great, clumping thing, and
not what a lady like you is used to, but I would
be true to you, lass. I would be good to you and I
would love the little ones just like my own.'

Her heart wrung with pity for him and Eloise
put her arms around Reggie and kissed him
tenderly on the lips. It was a brief embrace and
she drew away immediately, but not before the
door had been flung open and Queenie stood on
the threshold, breathing heavily. 'What's this?
Who is this man, Mrs Cribb? I don't allow
followers in my establishment.'

Eloise stepped away from Reggie, hastily composing
herself. 'It's not what you think, ma'am.
Mr Danby is my cousin from Yorkshire. He is in
London on business and called in to pass the
time of day.'

'Is that so?' Queenie eyed Reggie suspiciously.

He reached for his cap, clutching it before him
like a shield, and looking so sheepish that Eloise
had to stifle the desire to giggle. She linked her
hand through Reggie's arm. 'He was just leaving,
Mrs King. Reggie has a train to catch.'

'Then the sooner he goes the better,' Queenie
said, bridling.

Eloise felt Reggie's arm muscles tauten and she
could see a pulse beating in his throat. She had
never seen him angry before but she sensed that
he was about to put Queenie firmly in her place.
She squeezed his arm. 'We're still dressed for outdoors,
so we'll walk a little way with you, Reggie.'

'If you say so, Ellie,' he muttered between
clenched teeth.

'We would like another little walk, wouldn't
we, Joss?' Eloise said brightly. 'Perhaps Cousin
Reggie would give you a piggy-back?'

Reggie glared at Queenie, and was obviously
having difficulty in controlling the desire to tell
her a few home truths, but to Eloise's relief he
said nothing as he plucked Joss from the floor
and set him on his shoulders. Queenie stood by
the door with her arms folded in front of her and
watched him leave the room with a martial light
in her eyes. Eloise was about to hurry past her
when Queenie barred her way. 'You only paid
for two nights, Mrs Cribb. Your room is taken by
one of my regular business gentlemen from
tomorrow onwards, so I will have to ask you to
find somewhere else to stay.'

'That suits me, Mrs King,' Eloise said with as
much dignity as she could muster. 'I wouldn't
want to stay on here even if board and lodging
was offered free.' She did not believe Queenie for
one moment, but she was not going to beg to be
allowed to stay in this awful place, and she left
the room with her head held high.

When they were outside on the pavement,
Reggie gave her a searching look. 'What did the
old bat say to you then, Ellie?'

'Nothing of importance.' Eloise slipped her
hand through the crook of his arm. 'We'll walk
with you as far as the Eagle Tavern in the City
Road, and then I really must get back to the
lodging house and give the children their
dinner.'

Reggie looked deeply into her eyes. 'Won't you
change your mind, lass? If you won't have me for
your husband, just come back to the farm and
live with us as you did afore. I won't press my
suit, in fact I'll never mention marriage again.'

'It wouldn't work, Reggie. For one thing I
would be too near the Cribbs, and they would
never stop harassing me, and for another – I
couldn't expect your family to take us in. It
wouldn't be fair on them.'

'They love you, Ellie,' Reggie said with a catch
in his voice. 'We all love you and the children.'

'Don't make this harder for me, please. I really
can't come with you, but I will always remember
how kind you all were to me.' Eloise flashed him
a smile, even though she felt more like crying,
but she forced herself to sound cheerful and confident.
'Anyway, I have a position in mind with
comfortable living accommodation included,
and an employer who does not object to my
taking Joss and Beth with me. We will be all
right, Reggie. I promise you.'

'You never mentioned it before,' Reggie said
suspiciously.

'You didn't give me a chance,' Eloise replied,
hoping that God would forgive her for such a
big, black lie, but she knew she must convince
Reggie that they would be safe and secure or he
would refuse to leave without her. 'The vicar
who took over from my father knows of a family
who need a governess for their children and they
do not mind if I take Joss and Beth with me. We
will be all right, Reggie. I promise you.'

They walked on in silence until they came to
the Eagle Tavern, which was a well-known
rowdy pub and music hall; a place where shameless
women flaunted their charms in front of
drunken men, or that was what Papa had
claimed when Janet had once said she would like
to go there to see a show. He had made it plain
that it was not a place he would wish his
parishioners, let alone members of his family
circle to patronise. Eloise had always been
curious as to what actually went on in such a
venue, but at this particular moment the Eagle
was just a landmark, not too far from Euston
station. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed Reggie on
the cheek. 'This is as far as I go. Goodbye, dear
Reggie. Give my love to your ma and pa, and
remember me to Jacob and Clara. Tell them I
wish them all the happiness in the world and I
am just sorry that I cannot see them married.'

'You could,' Reggie said, setting Joss down on
the pavement. 'You could always come up for a
visit.'

'Maybe I will, if my new employer allows it.'

'And you will let us know your new address?'

'Only if you promise not to let Meg pass it on
to the Cribbs,' Eloise said with a teasing smile.

'Oh hell!' Reggie said, pushing his cap to the
back of his head in an impatient gesture. 'I
almost forgot to give this to you, Ellie.' He pulled
an envelope out of his breast pocket. 'Your
father-in-law passed it to me when his wife's
back was turned. He said it had arrived soon
after you left. I think it's come all the way from
Africa.'

Eloise gasped with delight as she took it from
him. It was her mother's handwriting and the
tattered envelope looked as though it had passed
through many hands before it had been placed in
hers. She clasped it to her breast, moving her lips
in an attempt to thank him, but a lump in her
throat made it impossible to speak.

'I'd best be on me way, lass.' Reggie ruffled
Joss's hair and patted Beth gently on the cheek.
'Goodbye, Ellie,' he said in a choked voice. 'I'll
never forget you.'

'Nor I you, Reggie.' Eloise had a struggle to
hold back tears as he walked away. If only she
could have found it in her heart to love him, but
she knew that would never happen and she
could but hope that he would put his feeling for
her aside and turn to faithful Maud for consolation.
She watched Reggie striding off with
only a slight hunch of his shoulders to betray his
distress, and she fought down the desire to run
after him. It was so tempting to take the easy way
out, but that would not have been fair on either
of them. She tucked her mother's letter safely
away in her reticule; she would save it for later
when the children were in bed and she could
read her mother's words again and again.

Grasping Joss's hand, Eloise turned in the
direction of Nile Street. There were more
pressing matters on her mind now, and the most
important of all was to find another lodging and
soon. She would have had to leave anyway, even
if Queenie had not said they must. The thought
of being discovered by the Cribbs was even more
frightening than the threat of being homeless.
Eloise hugged Beth, who had grown tired of
being carried and wanted to be put down on the
ground. 'Mama will get you some milk in a
moment, precious.'

'Me too,' Joss clamoured, tugging at her
hand.

Eloise gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.
'There's a costermonger's barrow a little further
down the street. Mama will buy you a nice juicy
orange.' She hurried towards the barrow and
was in the process of buying two oranges and a
pound of apples when she heard someone speak
her name. Momentarily paralysed with fear,
Eloise could not move, but as the man repeated
her name she realised that it was not Harcourt's
voice. She turned her head and was surprised to
see the Reverend Martin Collins hurrying
towards them, holding his hat on his head as a
sudden gust of wind threatened to whirl it up
with the rest of the straw and bits of paper that
were flying about in the air. 'Mrs Cribb, wait.'

She breathed a sigh of relief. 'This is a
coincidence, Mr Collins.'

'Not at all, ma'am. I was on my way to call on
you.'

'Really?'

'Although it grieves me to see a young woman
like yourself having to go out into the world to
earn her own living, I realised on reflection that
you were unhappy at the prospect of returning
to your in-laws in Yorkshire, and I felt I owed it
to your father to come to your aid.'

'You can help me?'

'It's just possible, Mrs Cribb. After you had
gone, I remembered a gentleman who used to be
a parishioner of mine before I moved to King's
Square. He is a respectable man who was once a
warder at the House of Detention. He has an
invalid wife, and due to his own advancing years
he is finding it increasingly hard to cope with just
a cook-general. Mr Hubble has been looking for
a suitable person to assist in the daily running of
their household for some time, and I took the
liberty of mentioning your name. The long and
the short of it is that I've just come from his house
in Clerkenwell Green, and he would very much
like to meet you.'

Eloise could hardly believe her ears. 'He wants
to see me? When?'

'Now, if it's convenient. I could take you there
this minute, if you are agreeable.'

Eloise nodded her head vigorously. This could
be the answer to all their problems. 'I would be
happy to go now, Mr Collins. Most happy.'

Joss tugged at her hand, pointing to the fruit.
'Mama.'

Beth began to whimper and Eloise was about
to ask Mr Collins to wait while she peeled an
orange for them when he forestalled her. 'I think
your little ones are hungry, ma'am. May I
suggest that we find a coffee stall and purchase
some hot milk for them and a slice of cake? I
believe I could manage a cup of coffee myself,
and perhaps I could tempt you?'

For the first time since they had met, Eloise saw
a glimmer of humanity in the vicar's grey eyes
and she nodded in agreement. 'You're very
thoughtful, sir.'

He inclined his head, as if to agree. 'It is quite a
long walk to Clerkenwell Green for the little
fellow, so we'll stop on the way. Follow me,
ma'am.'

They set off, stopping briefly on the way for
refreshments at a coffee stall, and having drunk
hot milk and shared a slice of cake with Beth Joss
was content to trot along at his mother's side,
while Beth fell asleep on her shoulder. When
they arrived in Clerkenwell Green, Eloise was
pleasantly surprised by the village atmosphere.
The green was surrounded by late eighteenth century
houses, still elegant but slightly faded
like a group of ageing courtesans. The tall spire
of St James's church rose above the treetops and
there was a market in progress. The smell of
boiling hops wafted from Reid's Brewery,
mingling with the fragrance of freshly baked
bread from the bakery. Stall holders shouted
their wares and crowds of shoppers thronged the
market place, which was bathed with sunshine.
There was a fairground atmosphere, even
though the House of Detention loomed above
the buildings at the end of St James's Walk, and
the House of Correction was a couple of streets
away, a fact that Martin Collins was only too
pleased to pass on. Eloise was not sure she
wanted to hear about this as her spirits had risen
considerably in this pleasant, almost festive
atmosphere.

'This is the house,' Mr Collins said, stopping
outside a four-storey townhouse squashed
between a watchmaker's premises and a bank.
Without waiting to see Eloise's reaction to his
pronouncement he rapped on the front door.

They were admitted by a slatternly-looking
woman with a suspicious yellow stain beneath
her nose suggestive of an addiction to snuff. She
muttered something unintelligible and motioned
the vicar towards a narrow staircase, before
hobbling off down a long and dark corridor.

'The parlour is on the first floor,' Mr Collins
explained as he mounted the staircase. 'Mrs
Hubble is unable to climb stairs and her room is
on the ground floor at the back of the house.
Follow me, Mrs Cribb, and do watch your step.
I'm afraid the carpet is a little threadbare in
patches.'

Eloise wrinkled her nose at the smell of must
and general decay which seemed to seep out of
the plasterwork on the walls. The house had a
dilapidated, almost derelict feeling to it, quite at
odds with its elegant façade. She urged Joss on
with an encouraging smile, although the dark
stairway sent shivers down her spine. Mr Collins
was well ahead of her and he disappeared round
a bend in the stairs. She heard the click of a door
being opened on the first landing. Hurrying after
him, she caught up as he entered a room at the
front of the house. Daylight filtered in through
three tall, but decidedly grimy windows and the
drawing room overlooked the green, but
although the view was pleasant the interior of
the room was shabby and decidedly gloomy. The
crazed plaster on the ceiling was flaking off and
falling occasionally with soft plops on the bare
floorboards. Ashes spilled from the grate onto
the hearth and there was a chill in the room even
though it was warm outside. The walls, which
badly needed a coat of paint, were unrelieved by
paintings or even a framed print, and the
curtains which hung limply at the windows were
riddled with moth holes. The furniture was an
eclectic jumble of items which looked as though
they had been picked up in salerooms, or
rescued from dust heaps. Seated in a wingback
chair by the fireplace, an elderly gentleman with
white hair and a florid complexion sat with one
heavily bandaged foot resting on a stool. 'So
you've come back, vicar. Didn't think you
would.'