The Cockney Angel (29 page)

‘Obviously not,’ Irene said more coolly than she had intended to. Her relief on seeing Mrs Priest instead of Kent was so great that she
was
quite breathless. ‘I stayed to keep Alice company until someone came to look after her.’

‘How is she, dearie?’

‘She doesn’t seem any the worse for her fall, other than a bump on the head and a large bruise. The doctor said he will call again tomorrow.’

Mrs Priest clutched her hand to her bosom and her eyes were moist. ‘I love that poor girl as though she was my own, and I feel terrible that she suffered an accident. I’m so grateful to you for everything you’ve done, miss.’

‘I did what anyone would do in the circumstances, but now I really have to go. Will you stay with Alice until her brother returns home?’

‘I’ll look after my little pet; you don’t have to concern yourself on that score.’

‘Then I’ll just collect my things and say goodbye to Alice.’

Irene fully expected to walk into a scene of near hysteria when she returned to the house in Love Lane at half past three, but Jessie admitted her without comment.

Irene made her way upstairs to the drawing room, pausing outside the door and she braced herself for a barrage of accusations and questions. She opened it quietly and stepped inside, but the scene that met her eyes was anything but stormy. Ma was seated on one of
the
elegant damask-covered sofas smiling proudly as Emily paraded around in the ball gown, which now fitted her perfectly.

Emily spun round to face Irene and she was laughing delightedly. ‘Isn’t this just wonderful? The seamstress has done a superb job and she returned the gown just half an hour ago. I’ll definitely give her more custom in the future.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Irene murmured. ‘Er, has Josiah seen it?’

‘No, he didn’t come home for luncheon. With Christmas so close they are so frantically busy in the shop that neither he nor the boys could get away. Still, that means more money coming in and more new gowns for me. I think I shall ask Josiah for a carriage and pair as a present when the baby is born. After all, he can hardly expect his wife and child to use public transport. It wouldn’t do.’

Irene breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that they had not missed her after all, although it was a bit galling to think that she might have been the victim of an attack, or had a fatal accident, and no one had even noticed that she was missing. She glanced at her mother, who gave her a reassuring smile. ‘We knew you was on a mission of mercy, Renie. Yapp’s boy, Danny, came to the door and told us that you’d gone to that copper’s house to look after his
crippled
sister. I call that a noble act on your part, considering the hurt that man has done our family.’

‘More likely she did it to get in well with the police,’ Emily said, tossing her head so that her diamond earrings glinted in the candlelight. ‘I hope Inspector Kent was grateful to you, and maybe he’ll put in a good word for Pa.’

‘I’m sure the judge will be lenient,’ Clara said wistfully. ‘After all, my Billy hadn’t done anything really bad and it was his first offence. I expect they’ll let him out soon, but I’ve been too afraid to make enquiries.’

‘And I’m certain that a good lawyer could get him off,’ Emmie said confidently. ‘I’m waiting for the right time and then when Josiah is in a particularly good mood I’ll ask him if he will hire a brief. After all, it would be in his best interests to have Pa released from prison.’

Irene had not the heart to tell them that Pa had already been tried and convicted. They would learn the truth of his harsh sentence soon enough. ‘I think I’d better go to my room and start getting ready for this evening.’

‘Yes, of course, ducks. You need to be fresh and lovely for the ball. I can’t wait to see you dressed up in them fine feathers of Emmie’s.’

‘Yes, and make sure you’re ready on time,’
Emily
said, doing another twirl and admiring her reflection in the huge gilt-framed mirror that hung over the ornate mantelpiece. ‘You know that Josiah doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’

Irene had never imagined that one day she would be arriving at the grand entrance of the Drapers’ Company in Throgmorton Street in a hired carriage, or that a liveried footman would assist her onto the red carpet which covered the slushy pavement. She had to struggle with the voluminous skirts of pale pink mousseline, frilled and draped in the latest fashion and drawn back to form a train. She must remember to take tiny steps or else she would be in danger of catching her toes in the wire cage of the crinoline, which made her feel like a trapped canary. She would have preferred to stride about unnoticed in Jim’s breeches than to be an object of admiring glances in her borrowed finery. Erasmus was at her side in a moment, proffering his arm, and she accepted gratefully, although as she was relieved of the velvet cloak by one of the minions inside the great entrance hall she saw Ras’s eyes wander to the décolletage and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. He looked up and laughed. ‘What a modest little violet you are, dear Aunt.’

‘I’m more of a stinging nettle, Ras Tippet, as you will find if you try to take liberties. And I am not your blooming aunt.’

This remark elicited a guffaw of laughter that made those nearest to them turn and stare with looks of marked disapproval, but Ras appeared to be unabashed and he chuckled. ‘Come on, let’s show these jumped-up shopkeepers that we don’t give a fig for their stuffy conventions.’ Without waiting for her answer, he led her along the red carpet, cutting a swathe through the respectable merchants and their wives who patiently waited their turn to be announced and ushered into the great hall. Irene did not know whether to laugh or to remonstrate with him, but to have a fight in such a public place would only draw more attention to them, and Josiah, Emmie and Ephraim were not too far behind. ‘Excuse me, sir, I believe we are next,’ Ras said, pushing past a portly man whose florid jowls overlapped a stiff white collar which threatened to sever his head if he moved too quickly.

The man’s eyes bulged and his face turned from crimson to puce as he spluttered a protest, but Ras ignored him and went to the head of the orderly queue, giving their names to the major-domo, who duly announced them in a clear bell-like tone. Irene stifled a nervous giggle, gazing around and barely able to take
in
the splendour of the great chamber. For a moment all eyes were on them, but then the orchestra struck up and couples began to take the floor.

‘Will you honour me with this dance, Miss Angel?’ Ras said, bowing from the waist and grinning at her with a mischievous sparkle lighting his eyes. The air was filled with the scent of hothouse flowers, and the smell of hot wax from hundreds of candles mingled with the perfume and pomade worn by the guests.

‘Thank you, I will, but I warn you now that I can’t dance.’

‘Nonsense,’ Ras said confidently as he slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. ‘There’s nothing to it; just follow me. It’s the grand march first and all we have to do is prance about the floor like a pair of thoroughbred horses at Tattersalls, then it should be a waltz to follow. I look forward to that above all.’

The guests of honour had taken the floor and to Irene’s relief Ras waited respectfully until it was their turn to join in the dance. Josiah led Emmie onto the floor and Irene experienced a rush of pride and affection to see her sister looking so radiant and happy to be out in company. Even though she could not in her heart acknowledge Josiah as the best husband in the world, Irene had to concede that Emmie was more than content with her lot.

‘Don’t look so serious, Irene,’ Ras said, squeezing her fingers. ‘This is supposed to be fun.’

‘I’m concentrating on my feet.’

‘And very pretty feet they are too, just like the rest of you.’

‘I hope you’re not trying to flirt with me, Ras.’

‘I am flirting quite outrageously, my dear, as would all the men in the room who are not in their dotage.’

‘You are a bad lot,’ Irene said, smiling.

His eyes strayed once more to the swell of her breasts and he grinned. ‘I admit it, but at least I’m not made of wood like your friend over there.’

Following his gaze, she saw Edward Kent standing in a group of important-looking bewhiskered gentlemen. At his side was a pretty young girl who was talking animatedly, fluttering her eyelashes and smiling coyly up at him. There was an instant spark of recognition in Kent’s eyes as Irene sailed past him on Ras’s arm, but she did not acknowledge him. How selfish men are, she thought grimly. He is here most probably to further his career in some way regardless of the fact that his sister is left alone and injured. He had better not speak to me, for if he does I shall have to give him a piece of my mind
and
tell him a few home truths which he will not like one bit.

‘You look cross,’ Ras said, laughing. ‘I know I haven’t stepped on your toes, so what has made that lovely mouth droop into a pout and creased your alabaster brow in a frown?’

‘I am fine, thank you, Ras.’ Irene withdrew her hand from his arm as the grand march ended, and she made for the table where Ephraim was seated looking distinctly grumpy. ‘Aren’t you enjoying yourself, Ephraim?’

He half rose to his feet and then slumped down again as Ras drew out a chair for Irene. ‘Not particularly. This type of do doesn’t appeal to me at all, but the guvner insists that we all put in an appearance.’

Irene angled her head. ‘Wouldn’t you like to dance? There are some young ladies who look as though they are dying to be asked.’

‘The pretty ones are all taken. I ain’t here to fuss over plain girls doomed to be wallflowers.’

‘Now with that I agree,’ Ras said heartily. ‘And I want you to put my name against every dance on your card, Irene; especially the last waltz.’

‘What I would love is a glass of punch,’ Irene said, fanning herself vigorously. ‘I never realised that dancing was such hard work – I’m parched.’

Ras winked at his brother. ‘A girl after me
own
heart. You won’t get a partner at all if you show that miserable face to the world, Eph. It’s enough to curdle the milk. Have a drink and cheer up for God’s sake.’ Without waiting to see if his barb had struck home, Ras sauntered off towards the table at the end of the room where a small crowd of gentlemen hovered around a silver punchbowl like wasps gorging on a squashed plum.

‘You want to watch him,’ Ephraim said, scowling. ‘He’s a young libertine. Our father would take a horsewhip to him if he knew half the things that my dear brother gets up to.’

‘Well, he won’t get up to any mischief with me. I’ve got his measure,’ Irene replied, smiling.

‘May I have the pleasure of this waltz, Miss Angel?’

She turned her head and found herself staring up into Kent’s face. For a moment, she was so flustered that she couldn’t think how to refuse him without appearing downright rude. She had not expected him to single her out, let alone ask her to dance. Couples were already taking the floor for a waltz and the men had their arms around the ladies’ waists in a very familiar fashion. Irene glanced at Ephraim, who was staring at the inspector open-mouthed. She looked for Ras but he was too far away to claim that she had promised
him
the next dance, and, unable to think of a plausible excuse, she rose to her feet. ‘Yes, thank you,’ she murmured.

Without saying a word, he swept her into the midst of the swirling couples and led her into the fluid movements of a Viennese waltz. Irene had to concentrate hard on following him at first, but soon they were whirling around the room as if they had done this a thousand times in the past. Her heart was thudding against her ribs and it was not just from exertion. To her intense astonishment, being held in Kent’s arms was like the embrace of a tiger – exciting and just as dangerous.

‘I heard what you did for Alice today,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

She met his eyes and realised that he was sincere. ‘It was nothing. I only did what anyone would have done for anyone in similar circumstances.’

‘Even someone who has as much reason to dislike me as you do?’

‘I dislike what you stand for,’ Irene replied evenly. ‘But Alice is another matter.’

A smile transformed his harsh features. He was not exactly handsome, she thought, but had he been anyone else she might have considered that he was really quite nice-looking in a marble-statue kind of way. She stiffened her shoulders, drawing a little further
away
from him. She must not allow the romance of the evening to beguile her into dropping her guard; she must always remember that they were on opposing sides. Never trust a copper; that’s what Pa always said. If he was being nice to her he must have an ulterior motive.

‘My sister is an angel,’ Kent said, twirling her round in a breathtaking turn. ‘She never complains. Sometimes I wish that she would.’

Irene had been concentrating on her feet during the complicated movement, but something in his voice made her look up, and she was shocked to see a look of genuine pain in his eyes. ‘Is there no cure for her?’

He shook his head. ‘The doctors don’t think so. They say that she is lucky to be alive and that there is nothing more they can do. She will remain a cripple for the rest of her life.’

Once again, Irene forgot that this man was her enemy. She could sense and sympathise with his genuine anguish. ‘I am truly sorry.’

He inclined his head, but he did not meet her gaze. It was almost as if he were afraid of revealing too much of his inner self. They continued in silence, and she realised with a guilty feeling of pleasure that she was dancing just like the ladies who had been taught the art from an early age. She allowed herself to float in his arms to the magical strains of the
Viennese
waltz; and it was only when the music stopped that she came back to earth with a bump. Kent released her with a polite smile and escorted her back to her table. ‘Thank you, Miss Angel.’ He bowed from the waist and walked away.

With mixed feelings, she watched his tall figure vanish into the crowd. The orchestra might have ceased playing but she could still hear the music in her head.