Authors: Dilly Court
She tried the door to the tradesmen’s entrance and found it locked. She toyed with the idea of ringing the bell and abandoned it almost immediately. Jessie would be only too pleased to catch her out, and Cook would not dare risk offending her employer by allowing Irene into
the
house unannounced. She lingered in the mews for a while, hoping that someone might arrive with a delivery of bread or groceries, but commonsense told her that it was too late in the day. It was raining even harder now and she was soaked to the skin. There was nothing for it but to go round to the front of the house and hope that Ras would be the first to return from the emporium. He would think it a huge joke to find her in such a state, but he would not tell his father; of that she was certain.
She hung about in the street, walking up and down in an attempt to keep warm, which was almost impossible with sodden clothes and rainwater trickling between her breasts and running down her back. The lamplighter was doing his rounds when Ras arrived, as expected, the first to arrive home from work. He paid off the cabby and was about to mount the front steps when Irene leapt out of the shadows and caught him by the sleeve. ‘Ras. It’s me.’
He stared at her in astonishment. ‘Renie? Good grief. Just look at you. What a state you’re in.’ He threw back his head and laughed. ‘I’d give a year of my life to see the old man’s face if he were to come along now.’
‘I pray that he won’t,’ Irene said, her teeth chattering. ‘You’ve got to get me into the house without being seen.’
He angled his head. ‘What’s it worth?’
‘Anything, just get me into the house before I catch my death of cold.’
‘I’ll hold you to that, young sir,’ Ras said, chuckling. He rang the doorbell. ‘Leave it to me.’ He took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘Give me your cap. Be quick, I hear the sound of Jessie’s flat feet.’
Irene did as he asked and shook out her hair just as the door opened.
Jessie stepped backwards to allow them to pass. She stared open-mouthed at Irene who, in spite of everything, had to suppress a giggle.
‘What are you staring at, girl?’ Ras demanded, peeling off his gloves and handing her his top hat. ‘Miss Angel and I got caught in the rain, as you see. Take hot water to her room and plenty of towels at once.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Jessie murmured, bobbing a curtsey. ‘At once, sir.’ She scuttled off towards the back stairs.
Irene uttered a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you, Ras. You’ve saved my life.’
‘And you owe me a debt of gratitude, Renie. One that I will be eager to collect.’ He drew her to him and kissed her on the lips before she had a chance to turn her head away. ‘Tonight,’ he whispered. ‘You will come to my room. I can’t wait.’
Chapter Sixteen
‘DON’T BE AN
oaf, Ras,’ Irene said, breaking free from his amorous grasp. ‘That’s not funny.’
He struck a pose. ‘Do I look as though I’m joking?’
‘You must be. You don’t want me. You could get what you want from any of the women in the places you frequent.’
He took her hand and raised it to his lips. His dark eyes gleamed with lust. ‘But you are different, my pet. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you, and I mean to have you.’
‘Under your father’s roof? Are you so depraved?’
‘I’m afraid I am,’ he said, smiling. ‘And I assure you that you will enjoy your first time. I assume it will be your first.’
‘I won’t have this conversation with you.’ Irene went to pass him but he held on to her hand, gripping it so hard that she winced. ‘Let me go.’
He drew her nearer, placing his lips close to her ear. ‘Come to my room at midnight.’
She could see by the steely expression in his eyes that he meant what he said, and she was desperate to escape to the privacy of her room. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said, forcing her lips into a smile. ‘Now let me go or I’ll scream.’
‘I don’t think you will, my pet. If the old man discovered that you had gone against his wishes, you would be flung out on your pretty little ear.’
‘It would be your word against mine.’
‘And who do you think my father would believe? Now go to your room and make yourself presentable.’ He released her so suddenly that she stumbled and only saved herself from falling by clutching the newel post at the foot of the stairs.
‘Go to hell,’ Irene muttered furiously.
Ras took a menacing step towards her and he was not smiling now. ‘I mean what I say. Come to me when the household sleeps or I will tell Father that I caught you dressed in those outrageous garments, openly flouting his orders. Take your choice, my pet.’
Wrapping his sodden cloak more tightly around her, Irene raced up the stairs and did not stop until she reached the relative safety of her bedchamber. Once inside she turned the key in the lock and tore off the offending garment. The scent of Ras’s expensive pomade lingered in her nostrils even after she had
undressed
and put on her wrap. A fire had been lit in the grate and she huddled on the hearthrug, folding her arms around her knees and rocking herself to and fro as she struggled with her emotions. She had thought that matters could get no worse but she had been mistaken. She had also been wrong in labelling Ras as a good-natured rattle brain. She had accepted his flirting at face value: just a bit of fun not to be taken seriously. How wrong she had been.
A knock on the door startled her from her dismal thoughts and Irene scrambled to her feet. ‘Just a moment.’ She patted her damp hair into place before unlocking the door to a disgruntled Jessie, who stomped into the room carrying a ewer filled with hot water and a large towel. She glared accusingly at Irene, saying nothing as she filled the jug on the washstand and hung the towel over its rail. She left the room without a word, ignoring Irene’s murmured thank you. Perhaps Jessie is right, Irene thought miserably. She recognises me for a fraud. I am no lady and she knows it. I am no better than she is. Emmie might have risen in the world by marrying a prosperous merchant, but I am the cuckoo in the nest. As she towelled her damp hair, Irene caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and she pulled a face. ‘I will never be a lady.’ She
sighed
, shaking her head. ‘But I am no slut. I will call Ras’s bluff. I don’t believe for a moment that he will carry out his threat. After all, it would be his word against mine. Josiah has a low enough opinion of his son already. Ras wouldn’t risk losing his job and his comfortable home. At least, I don’t think he would.’
Dinner that evening was an uncomfortable meal for Irene. Ma and Emmie obviously thought that she had spent the day in bed with a sick headache and were most solicitous. Josiah and Ephraim eyed her nervously, as if fearing that she might have an attack of the vapours at any moment, and Ras kept winking at her in a most salacious manner. By the time they reached dessert, Irene was itching to throw a jug of cold water over him, but somehow she managed to contain her annoyance at his suggestive behaviour. She noted that he was drinking more than usual, and that did not bode well. He had a reckless look in his eyes and she could only hope that he would imbibe enough wine to make him virtually insensible. Whatever happened, she was not going to his room. She would lock her door and pretend to be asleep. After all, what could he do? If he made a noise it would rouse the whole household and it would be Ras who was in trouble.
‘Are you sure that you are all right now, dear?’
The sound of Ma’s voice brought Irene back to earth with a bump. ‘Oh, yes. I’m sorry, Ma. I was miles away.’
‘Not too far, I hope,’ Ras said, grinning. ‘We would miss you if you left us, Renie.’
‘What sort of talk is that?’ Emmie scolded. ‘Renie is here to stay, at least until after my confinement. I don’t want to hear talk of her leaving.’ She rose from her seat. ‘But I suggest that we ladies go to the drawing room and let you gentlemen enjoy your port and cigars, which is what I believe they do in the best of households. Come, Ma. And you too, Renie.’ She swept from the room, blowing a kiss to Josiah, who was steadily munching his way through a plate of Stilton and celery. He half rose to his feet and then sat down again to cut himself another slice of cheese.
Renie was glad to escape from Ras’s covert glances and sly winks, but she hesitated outside the drawing room. ‘Ma, Emmie, if you don’t mind I think I’ll go to bed.’
Clara’s brow puckered with concern. ‘My dear, are you sure you are not sickening for something? Perhaps we should send for the doctor?’
‘No, Ma. Really, I am just a bit tired. I’m sure I’ll be better for a good night’s sleep.’
‘You go on then,’ Emmie said. ‘We can’t have you falling ill so close to my time. I’ll need all the help I can get then. Goodnight, dear.’
Irene climbed the stairs to her room and locked herself in. The fire had been made up and her bedcovers turned down. Jessie would not return until morning when she brought hot water for the washbowl and coal for the fire. Irene was too tense to think of sleep and she busied herself by hanging Jim’s still damp clothes over the back of the chair, and setting his boots before the fire to dry. Having accomplished this, she undressed and climbed into bed, settling down to read a copy of Mrs Gaskell’s
North and South
, which she had borrowed from Josiah’s library. She read for a while, but all the time her eyes kept straying to the clock on the mantelshelf, and as midnight drew inexorably nearer she found it hard to concentrate. The words began to dance before her eyes and the letters swam about on the page like tadpoles. It was a good story and she had been enjoying it until now, but in the end she had to admit defeat. She put a bookmark in place and laid the novel on her bedside table.
She lay back against the pillows, watching the patterns made on the ceiling by the flickering firelight as she listened to the sounds of the household preparing for sleep. She heard
footsteps
above her head as the servants went to their attic rooms. Doors closed and bedsprings creaked and then there was silence except for the occasional crackle from the dying embers of the fire and the gentle ticking of the clock. Minute by minute the hands crept closer to midnight. Irene pulled the coverlet up to her chin and lay stiff as a corpse in her bed as she waited.
Five minutes passed and then ten. Irene began to relax. Perhaps Ras had been teasing her, or maybe he had passed out on his bed under the influence of alcohol. She closed her eyes and was drifting into the sleep of sheer exhaustion when someone tapped on her door. She snapped upright, her heart thudding against her ribcage. She did not answer when she heard Ras’s voice calling her name. The knocking became more insistent and she covered her ears with her hands. She could see the doorknob turning and the key rattled in the lock.
‘Irene, open the door.’ His voice grew louder and more demanding.
‘Go away,’ she cried. ‘Leave me alone.’
A great thud made her leap from her bed as the door panels shook. ‘Stop it, Ras. You’ll wake the whole household.’ Irene unlocked the door and opened it just enough to peer out at him. ‘What do you think you’re playing at? Go away.’
Ras pushed past her and staggered into the room. ‘I think I’ve broken my bloody shoulder, thanks to you, you silly tart.’
‘You’re drunk. Get out and leave me alone.’
He made a grab for her but she managed to dodge him.
‘You promised you’d come to me. I will have you, Renie. Here and now, whether it pleases you or not.’
She managed to avoid his grabbing hands, putting the width of the bed between them. ‘We’ll talk about this in the morning.’
He vaulted the bed and caught her round the waist. ‘No. We’ll settle this matter now. You’ve been teasing me ever since you arrived. There’s a name for girls like you.’ He tore at her nightgown so that it fell open to the waist, exposing her breasts.
She kicked and struggled in an attempt to break free. ‘If you don’t let me go, I’ll scream and bring the house down on you.’
He stopped her mouth with a drunken kiss. His breath reeked of wine and garlic and as she drew breath to cry for help he forced his tongue between her parted lips. He cupped her left breast in his hand, teasing her nipple until it formed a hard peak which seemed to excite him all the more. Irene scratched and fought, and it was only when she managed to bite his tongue that he released her with a howl of pain and
rage
. She stumbled free from his grasp and ran to the door, almost colliding with Ephraim.
‘What in heaven’s name is going on?’ Ephraim demanded. He glanced in horror at Irene’s state of undress and he looked away quickly, turning his attention to his brother. ‘I might have known that you would have something to do with this. What have you got to say for yourself, Erasmus?’
Ras assumed an air of injured innocence. ‘My dear Eph, I came to Irene’s aid when I heard her cry for help.’
‘What?’ Irene spun round to face him. ‘That’s a lie.’
‘Come, my dear,’ Ras said smoothly. ‘You know very well that you were entertaining a gentleman in your room. I suppose matters got out of hand or you would not have protested so loudly.’
‘That is just not true. You are the culprit here.’ Clutching her torn nightgown over her naked breasts, Irene turned to Ephraim. ‘You know your brother only too well. Who do you believe – him or me?’
Ephraim frowned, shaking his head. ‘If there was a man, where is he now?’
‘In Erasmus’s imagination,’ Irene said bitterly. ‘He tried to seduce me and now he is seeking to put the blame on me.’
‘Hold on, my dear,’ Ras said, strolling across
the
floor to take Jim’s damp breeches and jacket from the chair by the fire. ‘These are not my garments, nor yours, I presume.’ His eyes glittered with malice. ‘I would say that there is a young gentleman running down the road half naked and desperate to remain undiscovered.’ He held up the clothes, waving them at his brother. ‘What do you say, Eph? Pretty damning evidence, don’t you think?’
Ephraim paled visibly. ‘Outrageous. I can hardly believe it of you, Irene. Father will hear of this, first thing in the morning.’ He beckoned to Ras. ‘I never thought I would say this, brother, but I see that I have misjudged you. Come, we’ll leave Irene to think about her behaviour.’