Prologue
London, Spring 1816,
Alfred Peters, one of the new Bow Street officers, visited Baron Kersal’s home in London for the third time that week. His colleague, Martin Corless, was following the Baron in his day-to-day life, but it was Alfred’s role to infiltrate the inner circle. Lord Halkyn, an aristocrat who disliked the way Baron Kersal was developing his business, had provided the means to access the house, and Alfred worked in his usual methodical way, liaising with Corless until they gathered enough evidence against Baron Kersal.
The Baron, in addition to running a house seven miles outside the city where a variety of pursuits not discussed in polite circles were held, decided he needed more funds and branched out further. He began arranging the kidnap and forced marriages of innocent young girls, which was when Lord Halkyn became involved. One usually used to enjoying some of the pleasures offered by Baron Kersal, he had helped rescue Miss Charlotte Webster, who had been kidnapped. Once Miss Webster was safe Lord Halkyn vowed, with the assistance of Bow Street, to bring the Baron to justice.
Alfred was introduced as Lord Halkyn’s cousin and convinced the Baron and his friends he was a keen gambler. He gathered a lot of information from one of the girls, Laura, who had helped Charlotte. Laura disliked the new activity, particularly as the girls being targeted were young. Alfred, being the man he was, gave the informant enough money to ensure that, when the time came, Laura would be able to get herself out of danger.
Everything was coming together as they hoped. He had not needed to visit the premises again, really, but something drew him to it one last time. Alfred had always acted professionally; he took his job very seriously, but Laura haunted his dreams since the evening he met her. She seemed a kindred spirit, older than her years, a little like himself, having seen more of life than any decent human being should. He had told her that they would never see each other again and, although he visited the premises numerous times since, he always stayed away from the available girls.
This night though, he could not concentrate. He knew exactly why he had visited the house, and the fight with his conscience only meant that he did not focus fully on gambling and was running at a loss. He tossed his cards onto the table and, with a sigh, pushed his chair back; his lack of success was giving the Baron back some of the money he had won earlier in the week.
Baron Kersal approached the young man, always ready to persuade a gambler to try and win back his losses, usually resulting in further losses for the player and more profit for himself.
“Good evening, Mr Peters,” the Baron said genially. “Giving up so easily?”
“Yes, I’m not in the mood tonight,” Alfred responded, taking a pinch of snuff.
“Some other entertainment then?” the Baron offered, always ready to offer something that would cost his visitors.
Alfred paused; this was the moment he should walk out the door and never look back. He took another pinch of snuff while fighting his demons. He snapped his snuffbox shut and placed it carefully in his pocket.
“If that girl is available who I saw on my first visit, I think I could be tempted,” he said with a convincing leer.
“Who was that?” the Baron asked, pleased he would be receiving further money from the young man.
“Laura. She was worth the money my cousin and I paid; she was very obliging, no matter what we did,” Albert said, trying not to look too keen about seeing Laura again.
The Baron frowned, and sweat popped out on his forehead. “Laura does other jobs for me these days; what about one of our other girls? Some of the younger ones are more than willing to spend an evening with a handsome young man.”
Alfred, with his tall slim frame, dark hair and green eyes set in a pale complexion, could be described as ordinary but never handsome. Anyone taking the time to look into his eyes would see a haunted expression, the result of seeing hardship and facing danger too many times. Alfred struggled to maintain his pleasant expression; he really disliked the Baron and would be happy when his colleagues raided the establishment.
“Laura had specialities I enjoyed. I would be willing to pay extra for her, but if not....” he left the sentence hanging, sure of the Baron’s reaction to money.
Not one to disappoint, the Baron replied immediately, “Laura will be with you in ten minutes. If you would like to follow me, we can agree on a price.”
Alfred nodded and followed the portly, glistening man into his office, where he conducted most transactions. It was better to be away from the eyes of the other visitors, especially when dealing with men who had lost a fortune gambling. He might not look as if he were anything other than an overweight aristocrat with questionable tastes, but Alfred knew his type could prove to be the most dangerous. If they could not protect themselves physically, men like the Baron always made sure they surrounded themselves with loyal staff who could.
When the deal was done, a member of staff took him to a bedroom.
As with the Baron’s other bedrooms, the room was minimally furnished; excess furniture was a waste of money in the Baron’s eyes. The décor was clean and tidy, which was a higher standard than some of the other places existing for the same reasons, but it was not extravagant. Everything in the house was there for the purpose of separating money from visitors. The door was left open while there was no girl in attendance. Alfred poured himself a glass of wine, beginning to realise what he was about to do. He drank the wine back in one gulp and poured himself another.
“Does an evening with me cause you to turn to drink?” came a voice from the doorway.
Alfred turned to see Laura, leaning against the doorway, a smile on her face. Alfred smiled in return and indicated she should come into the room by offering her a glass of wine. “Hello, Laura,” he said quietly.
He watched as she walked into the room, closing the door behind her and letting her shawl fall over the chair before accepting the glass of wine. She was not stunningly beautiful, but her auburn hair and dark green eyes drew him to her like a moth to flame. She had signs of wrinkles, a mark of the difficulties in her life even though she must only be aged around four and twenty. Girls in her trade started young and were cast off before they got too old. Like him, Laura had aged prematurely, a consequence of the struggle of being born on the wrong side of polite society.
“You’ve been a regular visitor here recently; I was disappointed when our first encounter didn’t tempt you back,” she flirted as she sipped her wine, looking at him over the edge of the glass.
“I’m here now,” Alfred said, his face never changing expression, but his insides feeling lighter at the fact she had shown an interest in him by knowing when he had been on the premises. No one else would have taken notice; he was not handsome enough or rich enough to be noticed by the other girls who worked there.
“Yes, you are,” Laura said, circling him provocatively. “And what do you have in mind for tonight? Is it going to be different than last time?”
She was asking him if he was going to talk to her, which was all they had done on that first meeting; well, except for the two kisses they had shared. “I always think different is best, don’t you?” he responded.
Laura flushed slightly but maintained the banter. There were peep holes in every room, so they could be being watched. Neither of them could give anything away, or they would not get out of house in one piece. “I am here to please you, sir.”
“You can start by getting undressed,” Alfred said, refilling his glass. He should get her on the bed behind the covers, so she would not be seen by anyone who thought to watch the activities of the house rather than take part. He wanted to see her undress, though, and he knew the eyes watching would not be too interested at this point; they preferred the activity later on in the evening.
“As you wish,” Laura responded. She slowly undressed. All her clothing was made for easy removal; too many fastenings could result in ripped clothing, and that cost money to repair. She had no corset on, again for ease, and was soon naked before Alfred.
“What about you, sir?” she asked, trying to keep the anticipation and warmth from her voice. As much as she had haunted Alfred’s dreams, he had haunted hers.
“All in good time,” Alfred said, placing his glass on the small table and striding towards her. He grabbed her and kissed her as he had kissed her last time, as if it would be his last. Laura responded to him immediately, wrapping her arms about his neck and pulling him further into her.
Alfred did not stop kissing her as he lifted her from her feet and carried her over to the bed. He climbed on after her and closed the curtains around them. There would be nothing more for the peeping toms to look at that night.
* * *
Hours later, Laura was nestled in Alfred’s arms, facing his chest. She had never nestled with any other client; it was always do what had to be done and then, once finished, more than likely on to the next client. She forced her thoughts not to dwell on her job and snuggled further into the warmth surrounding her.
“What are you doing, woman?” Alfred chuckled, but he kept his voice low, not risking any conversation being overheard.
“You said I would never see you again,” Laura said quietly.
“I tried to stay away,” Alfred said. “I’m putting you at risk being here.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Laura said, kissing the smattering of hair curled on his chest.
Alfred paused from stroking her back. “Laura, I cannot offer you anything,” he said. She would not have a happy time being linked to him.
“I have not asked for anything, have I?” Laura asked, still quietly, but the indignation was clear in her voice.
“Sorry, I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Alfred replied, kissing her until she smiled.
“I don’t want you to get hurt either,” Laura responded eventually but not pulling away fully from his lips. He had hinted previously that Bow Street officers did not have a long life span, and she worried he would come to harm.
“I know; you told me that when we first met,” Alfred said, remembering the words she had said to him.
“In another life I would have taken care of you,” Laura whispered the words as if reading his thoughts.
“In another life I would have let you,” Alfred responded as he had on that first day.
No other words were exchanged as they showed each other through actions how much the words meant to them both.
Deep in the night, Alfred finally stirred. “It is time I left; if I stay any longer, questions will be asked.”
“I know; I was just being selfish,” Laura said, a lump developing in her insides that she knew by instinct would be hard to move. This time he would not return; she knew that without any words being said.
“Kersal said you didn’t usually do this sort of thing anymore. He isn’t mistreating you, is he?” Alfred asked. Case or no case, if she were being hurt, he would sort the Baron out himself.
“No, he isn’t,” Laura said. “I’m looking after the girls here; apparently I’m getting too old to see the gentlemen.”
“How old are you, you old hag?” Alfred asked teasingly.
“Four and twenty; does that shock you?” Laura responded with mock primness.
“As a man who is a whole year younger, no it doesn’t shock me, although I may have to try a younger model in future just to see the difference,” Alfred said before having the wind knocked out of him by Laura poking him in his ribs. “Oooff, woman, you are vicious!” he laughed, still careful to keep his voice low.
Alfred became serious and held Laura tightly to him. “I do have to leave now, but promise me you will be careful,” he said.
“I will,” Laura said, blinking back tears that threatened to spring to her eyes at such concern. She mentally shook herself; there was no place for tears in her world: life was what it was. There was no point repining now. She climbed out of bed and quickly got dressed.
Alfred followed her from the bed and dressed himself. He approached Laura and gave her a hand full of coins. “Thank you, Laura,” he said, kissing her roughly on her lips before walking out of the room without looking back.
Laura stayed still a few moments before leaving the room and returning to her own private bed chamber. Once there she sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around her middle. “God, if you exist and you are fair, you will let me have this little part of him. The future is too bleak with no reminder of him in it.”
Chapter 1
Somerset, Autumn 1816
“That blasted man!” Martha Fairfield, housekeeper and former companion to Lady Elizabeth Dunham muttered to herself as she walked through the hall of Dunham House. She was always so calm, so collected except when she was faced with Mr Charles Anderton and his interfering ways.
Why could he not keep to his own role of Lord Dunham’s man of business? She grumbled to herself as she stomped up the stairs. Martha Fairfield never stomped, and it proved just how annoyed she was that she threw caution to the wind and allowed the footmen to see how agitated she was.
He was always there, offering his so-called help, giving his unwanted advice on matters that should not, no, did not concern him. Whoever heard of a man of business helping to find a nanny? There were clear lines of responsibility in every household, and Charles Anderton consistently crossed them. Well, he did when it had anything to do with her responsibilities; he never seemed to interfere with the butler or the cook the way he did with her. His actions resulted in Martha coming to the conclusion he had no faith in her abilities, something she was reminded of time and time again.
Initially, when they first met, she presumed it was because he saw her as a Lady’s companion and, to be fair, many in that role had little wit about them. She had come across women who held the role who had virtually no education or conversation showing any level of intelligence or understanding. Being grouped with them, although a tad unfair, was not really a surprise, and she had not felt any great antagonism although he had managed to irritate her regularly.
Now, though, Charles Anderton had known her for well over a year and, in that time, there had been a lot of contact between the pair. At one time they were on an equal footing, desperate that their master and mistress would overcome the hurdles they faced and acknowledge the attraction existing between them. It had given Martha and Charles a common cause they both tried to work on in the background in helping their employers.
That felt a long time ago now, though, Martha reflected as she closed the door on her bed chamber. She did not usually escape from her duties during the day, but something Charles said hit a nerve, and she needed to gather her thoughts before continuing on with her tasks.
All he said was that she had no experience with children and nannies, which was true, but she took it as a personal insult. For some reason his words made her feel less of a woman, somewhat irrationally, she acknowledged to herself. She struggled with the feelings coursing through her body as the implication of the words stirred something deep within her. It was something she usually managed to suppress.
She sighed and sat at her window seat, picking up a cushion and holding it tight against her stomach. She tried to calm herself, looking out of the Jacobean building and over the garden. The view was of the garden on the side of the property. It was a beautiful view she enjoyed each day, and she loved watching the changes in the seasons since the gardeners at Dunham House excelled themselves. Her shoulders slumped. She knew her destiny and accepted it a long time ago. Why did Charles Anderton have to stir feelings that would haunt her long into the night?
* * *
Martha Fairfield had been born into a genteel family. There were no titles linked to the family name, but there was enough wealth to provide a comfortable lifestyle. Martha was the eldest girl in a family of five children. Her two older brothers had indulged their baby sister, even when a younger brother and sister were born. It was a happy but uneventful life.
Martha was brought up to expect to marry a gentleman, probably someone who was known to the family already. She would continue to live in the area of Cheshire where she had been born, bringing up her own family in familiar surroundings near friends and family. Only, she was to find out life sometimes did not always follow what was expected.
Her father died suddenly of a seizure. He was still young, and it was a complete shock to everyone who knew him. That, for the Fairfield family, was not to be the only shock they had to endure. Their father had not been as good with his finances as they presumed. They lived in blissful ignorance until his death was announced officially, and the creditors called in what was owed to them.
Martha’s older brother Thomas acted quickly and sold off some of the land to pay off the debt; he was a proud young man and refused to leave the debts outstanding. The continued good name of the family was important to all of them, more so with the new financial difficulties. Thomas then had the difficult task of sitting his family down and explaining the consequences of paying off the creditors. It was a difficult conversation in which he told them their property would no longer sustain the family.
Martha’s mother took the news badly, partly because she was still grieving for her husband and partly through shame of what had gone on without her knowledge. Her children had tried to reassure her, but she had taken to her bed for the foreseeable future, giving Thomas the further difficulty of dealing with an invalid mother and the costs associated with that.
The second eldest, William, had immediately informed the family he was signing up to join the navy. He had always wanted to but had been persuaded into following a career in the clergy. The potential of joining the navy and earning more money while following the career he wanted was too much of a pull. At the same time as having the career he longed for, he would have the ability to send money to his family each month, so it was a decision he found easy to make.
The youngest boy was too young to work, so he would stay within the family home. Thomas decided he would have him apprenticed when he was old enough.
Martha realised through the conversations which were held that she herself and her younger sister, Susan, would have to secure marriages and soon. Susan was too young as yet, but she would need to be married almost as soon as she left the schoolroom, something not ideal in anyone’s mind. In her own case, Martha had come out the previous year and, although she had not received an offer of marriage yet, there were one or two young men she thought might offer for her in time. Thomas spoke to his sister about her situation in private.
“I didn’t want to have this conversation in front of the others,” he explained as they sat together in what had been his father’s study.
“What is it?” Martha asked gently, thinking her brother had aged over the last few months, and she felt sorry for what he had faced and the decisions he had had to make.
“Is there anyone who wishes to marry you now, Martha?” he asked gently.
“No, but I have had only one season; I don’t consider myself on the shelf just yet,” Martha teased.
“Neither do I,” Thomas smiled at his sister, but the smile was tinged with sadness. “The problem is, Martha, we cannot afford another season for you.”
Martha looked at her brother, and the serious expression on his face helped the words sink in. By not being able to afford another season, she would not be out socialising, which meant she would not come into contact with any gentlemen. That lack of social interaction would guarantee there would be no marriage proposals forthcoming. There were enough young ladies looking to marry for the available gentlemen not to have to search out someone they met the previous year—especially if she would no longer be attending the parties and therefore would be out of their social circle. Thomas was effectively telling Martha he could not help her marry, condemning her to spinsterhood.
“Susan?” Martha asked quietly.
“Not even a first season unless things change dramatically in the next four years,” Thomas said sadly. “I’m sorry, Martha; I would if I could but, even without the expense of a season, the land we have left isn’t going to sustain us. I’m letting most of the staff go; William going into the navy will help—one less mouth to feed—and I think I will be able to get Henry apprenticed next year, but I cannot afford the expense the rounds of entertainments would cost.”
“Of course, you can’t,” Martha said practically. She suppressed the feelings of sadness and bitterness at what she had lost. It was not Thomas’s fault; he was doing the best he could in the circumstances. She could spend her time hating her father, but all that would achieve would be to embitter herself since her feelings towards him could not affect him. She had to be practical and help her family. “If things are so bad I need to help as well.”
“You will need to take on some extra duties around the house; without staff there will be more work for us all to do,” Thomas said.
“Thomas, I cannot be a burden on you for the rest of my days,” Martha said with a firm set to her mouth. “A spinster sister is a drain on what are already limited resources, and you cannot have such a burden for the remainder of my life. I will seek a position as a Lady’s companion; I have not the ability to be a governess, but I can be a companion.”
“No!” Thomas said. “The situation is not that bad!”
Martha reached over and squeezed her brother’s hand. “You need help, so let me do as William is doing and send some of my money home. It won’t be much, but you will have no expense from me, and I can feel I am helping. Maybe by the time Susan comes of age, things will be a little different.”
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
