The Button Box, page 13
‘Wait a minute,’ Clara said, frowning. ‘Why do you think your uncle would believe such a tale? I look like a drab and he’ll think I’m an adventuress, out for what I can get. He would see through your story in an instant.’
‘He would see you for what you are, Clara. Brave and beautiful and honest to a fault. Aunt Rebecca trusted you and left you everything she had in the world. You are a businesswoman in your own right, and one day you’ll be a huge success – I have no doubt about that whatsoever – but I’m a struggling musician and, if anything, I’m unworthy of you.’
‘That was quite a speech, Nathaniel.’ There was no doubting his sincerity but it was disconcerting, and Clara covered her embarrassment with a chuckle. ‘How could I refuse after such a commendation?’ She stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Ring the bell and let’s face your uncle together.’
‘You’d do this for me?’
‘I think your aunt would want me to stand by you. It’s the least I can do for the Silver family.’
‘Thank you, Clara.’ Nathaniel rang the bell.
‘Just a minute,’ Clara said hastily. ‘Your uncle won’t believe that we’re engaged if I don’t have a ring. What will you say to him?’
‘I didn’t think of that.’ Nathaniel took a signet ring off the small finger of his right hand. ‘Will this do?’ He dropped it into her outstretched hand.
The tiny, gypsy-set diamond winked at her. ‘It’s very pretty.’
‘It belonged to my mother,’ he said softly. ‘See if it fits.’
The ring slipped onto her finger as if it were made for her, but she panicked and was about to take it off when the door was opened by a liveried footman.
‘Good morning, Franklin. Is the master at home?’
‘I’ll tell him you’re here, sir.’
Nathaniel ushered Clara over the threshold. ‘We’ll wait in the morning room, Franklin.’ He crossed the hallway and opened the door to a large room where the furniture was swathed in holland covers. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams that filtered through tall windows and there was an icy chill in the air.
‘My uncle is only interested in country sports,’ Nathaniel said apologetically. ‘As you can see, he doesn’t spend much time in London.’
‘I can’t understand why you aren’t allowed to live here.’ Clara gazed in awe at the ornate plasterwork on the cornices and the marble mantelpiece supported by carved caryatids. The thick carpets and softly hued curtains spoke of money and good taste, and yet Nathaniel’s uncle was behaving like the worst sort of miser, keeping everything for himself.
‘My father and his brother were always at loggerheads,’ Nathaniel said sadly. ‘They were complete opposites in every sense. My father was artistic and loved music and the theatre, while Uncle Septimus lived for hunting and attending shoots. When the season ended he would travel to India to kill tigers or to France to hunt wild boar—’ He broke off as the door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered man strode into the room.
‘So you came, Nathaniel. I doubted you would.’ Septimus Silver’s voice matched his physique and it echoed round the room. He stared at Clara, looking her up and down with a calculating expression in his pale grey eyes. ‘So you bribed a maidservant to accept the hand of a penniless musician. Well done, boy.’
Nathaniel slipped a protective arm around Clara’s shoulders. ‘Insult me, if you like, Uncle, but Clara is above reproach, and she most certainly isn’t in service. She’s a businesswoman.’
‘Not a very successful one, judging by her appearance.’ Septimus dragged a cover off the nearest chair and sat down, sprawling his legs out in front of him. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us properly, boy?’
Clara stepped forward. ‘I know who you are, sir. Your reputation goes before you.’
Septimus treated her to a wolfish grin. ‘I like a woman of spirit.’
‘Despite your lack of manners, Uncle, I would like to introduce my fiancée, Miss Clara Carter, the former owner of Silver’s Drapery in Drury Lane. She is moving her business to a much larger shop in Oxford Street.’
‘A shopkeeper, indeed. If this is a genuine match you aren’t doing very well for yourself, boy. A young woman of birth and breeding would be more appropriate.’
‘I’ll wed whom I please, Uncle. I love Clara, and I intend to marry her as soon as possible.’
‘In an interesting condition, is she? As my dear mother would have said.’
‘No, sir. Shame on you.’ Nathaniel’s colour deepened and a small vein throbbed visibly in his temple.
‘You, sir, are no gentleman,’ Clara said angrily.
‘And you are certainly no lady.’ Septimus leaped to his feet. ‘Look at yourself in the mirror, miss. I’ve seen better dressed dollymops. This is patently a pack of lies, Nathaniel. I’ve had you followed for months and I know that your acquaintanceship with this person began after my sister’s death.’
‘You didn’t attend the funeral,’ Nathaniel said angrily. ‘You allowed Aunt Rebecca to eke out a living in that shop. She was brought up to be a lady.’
‘Trade is in the blood, though thank God it’s well diluted in mine. Your aunt chose the way in which she wanted to live. Your father and I tried to dissuade her, and that’s about the only thing upon which we agreed.’
‘I don’t know the whole story,’ Nathaniel said bitterly. ‘But she deserved better.’
‘She turned her back on the family when she went to live with a married man, who abandoned her and went back to his wife. I wouldn’t have given her a penny piece, but your father was always an easy mark. He set her up in the shop, so by rights it should have come to you. You’re weak like your father, Nathaniel. This little minx has got you where she wants you and you’ll end up with nothing, just like your aunt.’
Nathaniel gave his uncle a mighty shove, catching him off guard, and Septimus staggered backwards and fell into the chair, tipping it over so that he landed with his legs in the air. For a few moments he remained on his back, flailing about like an upturned beetle, until he managed to right himself. He staggered to his feet, red in the face and seething with anger. ‘A lucky punch, Nathaniel. I could thrash you like the puppy you are if I so chose, but I have other ways of punishing a recalcitrant boy.’
‘I’m not scared of you, Uncle.’ Nathaniel reached out to take Clara by the hand. ‘We’re leaving now. I have nothing further to say to you.’
‘Your sham engagement doesn’t fool me, so you’d better think again. Time is running out for you, my boy.’
Clara could feel the tension in Nathaniel’s fingers as they tightened around her hand. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said hastily. ‘This isn’t getting you anywhere.’
Nathaniel did not speak until they were outside on the pavement. He gave her an apologetic smile. ‘I’m so sorry to put you through that, Clara. I should have known how it would turn out.’
‘It’s all right. I understand better now I’ve met your uncle. You mustn’t give up, Nathaniel.’
He stared at her, eyebrows raised. ‘You think not?’
‘Most definitely,’ she said firmly. ‘If that is your town house, I can’t imagine what the one in the country must be like, and your father wanted you to have everything. What I don’t understand is why he made so many conditions.’
‘He didn’t approve of my ambition to be a professional musician. He thought that being a composer was only one step up from being a poet and living a dissolute life like Lord Byron and his friends.’
‘But you said he loved music and the theatre.’
‘He did, but he expected me to take over the family business, even though he hated the world of commerce.’
‘It must be a very successful undertaking if it bought your family a house like this.’
‘It started a long time ago, Clara. My great-great-grandfather Henri da Silva was a silk weaver who fled from France with many other Huguenots and settled in Spitalfields, where he found work. Eventually he bought his own loom and built up a successful business.’
Clara shivered as an icy wind hurtled round the square like a band of rowdy hooligans, tossing bits of straw into the air and tugging at her bonnet. ‘But how did they come to own a country estate?’
‘My great-grandfather was a handsome fellow, by all accounts. He was delivering a bolt of silk to a grand house in Grosvenor Square when he met and fell in love with the rich man’s daughter.’
‘It sounds like a fairy tale.’
Nathaniel stepped to the edge of the kerb to hail a passing hansom cab. He helped Clara to take a seat and climbed in beside her. ‘It was a love match, but my great-grandmother’s father was against the marriage and the couple eloped to Gretna Green. It was only when my grandfather was born that Sir Henry Martingale acknowledged their union and finally gave it his blessing. He gave them a large house in the country with several acres of parkland.’
‘Did your great-grandfather live the life of a gentleman?’
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘He was a born businessman and he could see that the silk industry was on the wane due to cheap imports, so he bought a couple of ships and became an importer. He changed the family name to Silver and concentrated on making his fortune. It was he who purchased the town house in Eaton Square.’
‘And did your father inherit his forebears’ talent for commerce?’
‘Ah, there you have it, Clara. My father was a dreamer with no head for business, and Uncle Septimus had no interest in trade. He wanted to live like a country gentleman.’
‘So what happened to the family fortune?’
‘My grandfather could see the way things were going. He sold off most of his assets and invested the money in the stock market, but he kept a couple of warehouses in Wapping and continued to import goods, but on a much smaller scale. Uncle Septimus put a manager in charge after my father died, but to the best of my knowledge he’s allowed the fellow to do as he pleases. I suspect that he’s lining his own pockets at our expense.’
‘And is there nothing you can do until you come of age?’
‘My hands are tied. I have no authority to change things, and I doubt if I would be any good in the commercial world.’
‘You don’t know until you try, Nathaniel.’
‘Music is my life, but I’ll do my best to salvage what I can of the business. Whatever happens I’ll continue to compose, and I never had ambitions to perform before an audience. That was thrust upon me by circumstances.’
‘Gertrude loves to hear you play,’ Clara said, smiling.
‘Yes, that was quite a revelation. I feel sorry for the poor woman.’
‘Who knows what she’s been up to since we left her? I shouldn’t have left her on her own.’
‘I am so sorry I put you through the unpleasant scene this morning. I didn’t imagine that my uncle would react so rudely.’
Clara patted his hand as it rested on his knee. ‘You mustn’t worry about me, Nathaniel. As a matter of fact it’s been a welcome change from worrying about how I’m going to cope with the shop, and Gertrude, not to mention my sisters.’
‘I am free during the day. I could help you with some of the heavy work.’
‘I couldn’t ask you to do that.’
‘Why not? I’ve just coerced you into pretending to be my fiancée. I think it’s the least I can do to make up for my uncle’s rudeness, not to mention my violent reaction.’ He shot her a sideways glance. ‘I’m not normally a rough fellow.’
She squeezed his fingers. ‘I know that, Nathaniel. You were provoked, and if I’d been a man in your position I’d have done the same thing.’ She took the ring from her finger. ‘You must have this back.’
‘You are an amazing girl, Clara. I’d like you to keep it, and I know my mother would have approved.’
‘But it means a lot to you. It wouldn’t be right.’
‘It looks better on you than it does on me, and I might be tempted to pawn it again if things get tough. Keep it for me until better times.’
She replaced it, but this time it was on her right hand. ‘I’ll look after it until you’re in a position to take it back.’
‘Thank you, Clara. It’s a pity I’m not in a position to offer you my worldly goods, but at the moment they consist of a few clothes and my violin.’
‘Friendship is the most valuable commodity,’ Clara said gently. ‘I need a good friend.’
‘What has happened to Luke Foyle? I thought you two were close.’
The question was so sudden that Clara’s breath hitched in her throat. She had tried to put Luke out of her mind. He had been a part of her life for a long time, and his sudden departure had left a gap in her life and an ache in her heart. She stared straight ahead as if the horse’s head and ears were the most interesting sight in London. ‘He had to go away,’ she said after a brief pause, ‘and I haven’t heard from him since.’
‘But you miss him?’ It was more a statement than a question, but the words hung in the cold air, separating them like a brick wall.
‘He’s an old friend. I’ve known him for several years, but I can’t condone his involvement with the gangs.’
‘I’m glad,’ Nathaniel said simply.
‘We’re here.’ Clara made a move to climb down first as the cab pulled up outside the shop, but Nathaniel was too quick for her and he alighted, proffering his hand as she stepped down to the pavement. He paid the cabby and followed Clara to the door.
‘I can spare an hour or two, if you’d like some help.’
She turned the key in the lock and went inside. ‘You don’t have to, Nathaniel. I can manage.’
‘I’m sure you’re more than capable, but I’m at a loose end and it’s started to rain. I can’t risk ruining my violin in such weather. I left it here, anyway.’
‘Of course I’d be glad of another pair of hands. Are you any good with a broom?’
‘I’m an expert,’ he said, chuckling. ‘And I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. It was none of my business.’
Clara headed for the kitchen. ‘I wonder what Gertrude is doing. I might need you to play for her again if she gets upset.’
‘It would be my pleasure. At least she doesn’t heckle, like some of my audience on the street.’
Clara entered the kitchen to find the fire burning brightly in the range and a kettle singing on the hob. Jane was at the sink washing crockery and she turned her head, greeting them with a smile. ‘That strange woman let me in.’
‘But I’ve got the key,’ Clara protested.
‘She must have a duplicate,’ Jane said cheerfully. ‘Otherwise I would have had to go home. She said you’d gone off with the man who plays wonderful music, so I knew it had to be Nathaniel. Where have you been?’
‘Where is Gertrude now?’ Clara asked anxiously.
‘She’s gone back to her room. I told her we’d make it more comfortable for her.’ Jane wiped her hands on her pinafore. ‘Sit down and I’ll make some tea. You both look as though you need a hot drink. It’s a pity I didn’t have any money for food, but tea is quite filling.’
Nathaniel picked up his violin case and opened it. ‘It’s all right,’ he said, closing it with a sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness. I was afraid that Gertie might have meddled with it.’
‘She’s quite sensible today.’ Jane warmed the tea-pot and tipped the water into the sink. ‘She looked a bit cleaner too, although she could do with a proper bath. I’m afraid she still smells awful.’
‘Just don’t ask me to play an accompaniment while she’s being bathed.’ Nathaniel made a move towards the door. ‘I’ll go out and get us something to eat.’ He held up his hand as Clara opened her mouth to protest. ‘It’s the least I can do after the morning you’ve had. I won’t be long.’ His footsteps faded as he reached the shop and the bell jangled on its spring as he opened the door, and closed it again with a thud.
‘What was that all about?’ Jane demanded, her hand poised above the tea caddy.
‘Make the tea and I’ll tell you.’ Clara took off her bonnet and shawl. ‘It’s not every day that a girl gets engaged and then breaks it off within the hour.’
‘No!’ Jane’s blue eyes widened. ‘He proposed to you?’
‘Not exactly.’ Clara pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘Is there any sugar? I’ve had such a morning, I feel I deserve a small treat.’
Nathaniel returned just as Clara finished giving Jane the bare details of their trip to Eaton Square. The aroma of hot meat pies filled the kitchen and Nathaniel placed the paper package on the table. ‘I brought one for Gertie. Shall I take it up to her?’
‘No need,’ Clara said, jerking her head in the direction of the doorway.
Gertrude was leaning against the jamb, her wild hair tumbling over her shoulders and half-obscuring her face, but a slow smile transformed her features as she sniffed the air like a hungry hound. ‘I haven’t had a hot pie for so long I’ve quite forgotten how they taste.’
Nathaniel picked up one of the chipped plates that Jane had put out for their use and placed a pie on it. ‘Come and join us, Gertie.’
She grabbed the food and backed into the storeroom, as if afraid that he might change his mind and take it off her.
Clara made a move to follow her. ‘I ought to make sure she’s all right.’
Nathaniel shrugged. ‘She’ll be fine. Let’s eat. I’m starving.’
‘We must save a pie for Betsy.’ Jane eased herself onto a chair at the table. ‘As soon as the oven is clean we can start cooking our own food.’
Clara sat down opposite her, putting Gertrude out of her mind, and helped herself to a pie. ‘I have a plan in mind. We’ll clear the shop floor today and clean it up as much as possible. Nathaniel has offered to help, and that will leave me free to start on the top floor. If we can move our beds over tomorrow we’ll be able to move in, and then the work will begin in earnest.’
Jane clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘I can’t wait to have a room of my own.’
‘You can’t have mine. You won’t get rid of me so easily.’ Gertrude reappeared, wiping her lips on her sleeve. ‘That was a good pie. I haven’t eaten so well for a long time.’
