The Button Box, page 28
Clara linked arms with her sister. ‘Your time with the Comerfords was well spent. It’s just a pity that Joss toyed with your affections.’
‘Oh, I don’t care about him now. I was flattered, I suppose, and his charming manner turned my head, but I know now that he’s a philanderer and a cad. I have my sights set on someone far nicer and much wealthier, or at least he will be when he comes into his inheritance.’
Clara came to a sudden halt. ‘You don’t mean Nathaniel, do you?’
‘Yes, what’s wrong with that?’ Lizzie shrugged. ‘You turned him down, so he’s fair game.’
‘I didn’t want to hurt him. Our engagement was simply to make Nat’s uncle believe that he could fulfil all the conditions of his father’s will. I never said I’d marry him.’
‘Which is just as well, because I intend to rectify that error. When I’m the wealthy Mrs Nathaniel Silver I’ll do all my shopping at The Button Box.’ Lizzie tossed her head and walked on.
Clara followed more slowly. She was shocked by Lizzie’s announcement, but not surprised when she thought it through. Maybe her down-to-earth sister would be good for someone like Nat, whose feet barely touched the ground when his head was filled with music.
She quickened her pace and took Lizzie by the hand. ‘Just be kind to him; he’s a good man.’
‘I know that,’ Lizzie said, smiling. ‘Come on, Clara, let’s get home and make plans for the first floor. We’ll need yards and yards of carpet and lots of gilded chairs, and mirrors everywhere. Most important is to have gas mantles fitted so that we have good lighting. Maybe we can arrange that first.’
‘I think you’ve spent the loan already,’ Clara said, smiling. ‘But it sounds very elegant and maybe we can make room for millinery as well. Betsy will see to that, with Jane’s help.’
‘I’ve had another idea, too,’ Lizzie said eagerly. ‘You know what a splendid cook our little sister is? Well, I thought we could use part of the old storeroom to serve cups of tea and dainty cakes to our customers. The Aerated Bread Company have a few tearooms where ladies can go unescorted, which, I believe, are becoming popular. It’s another way to attract customers. What do you think?’
‘It’s a good idea, but we must ask Jane first. She’s very young to have such a responsibility thrust upon her, but we could start with a few tables, and if it’s a success we could take on someone to help her.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’
‘All this is very positive and exciting,’ Clara said, frowning. ‘But we’re forgetting one important person, and that’s Gertie. It’s her building and I think Plumley might insist that we wait to get her permission before making alterations. Besides which, I’m worried and I have to find her. I must make sure that she’s safe and well.’
‘I think you ought to put us first, Clara. I’m sure Gertie can take care of herself.’ Lizzie reached the shop door and went inside.
Clara hesitated, staring critically at their new window display. Lizzie was right, of course, the store had to come first, but it was not easy to put Gertie’s plight out of her mind, and she had not forgotten Luke. The memory of his kiss and the look in his eyes when they parted had haunted her dreams and her waking hours. She could only hope that he had returned to France, where he was safe from arrest. There had been no sign of Patches, but Clara had a suspicion that Lady Quinn knew more about Gertie’s disappearance than she would admit. It was just a notion, of course, with no substance behind it other than a feeling that Gertie’s sister did not want her to return. Clara made up her mind to pay another call on her ladyship at the first possible opportunity.
Lady Quinn refused to see her, but Clara pushed past the startled butler and marched up the grand staircase despite his urgent pleas for her to stop.
He followed, begging her to wait until he had warned his mistress of her arrival. She came to a halt on the landing, spinning round to glare at him. ‘You’ll have to throw me out bodily,’ she said angrily. ‘Lady Quinn will see me now and I’d advise you to leave us alone, Baxter. What I have to say won’t take long and then I’ll leave of my own accord.’
‘Yes, miss, but …’
She walked off without waiting to hear him out. The less-than-friendly reception had only served to make her more determined to get the truth from Garland Quinn. She burst into the drawing room without bothering to knock.
Lady Quinn rose slowly from her chair by the fire. ‘How dare you barge in like this? Where is Baxter?’
Clara stood her ground. ‘Don’t blame him for my intrusion, Lady Quinn. I need to speak to you urgently.’
‘I suppose it’s about Gertie. She always managed to put herself forward and get everyone’s attention, and nothing has changed.’
‘Yes, of course it’s about your sister,’ Clara said, emphasising the last word. ‘She’s been missing for weeks and anything could have befallen her. Don’t you care?’
‘Why should I? We never got along and that’s the truth.’
‘Even so, I think you know more about her disappearance than you’re saying.’ Clara moved closer. ‘Please, Lady Quinn, if you have any idea where I might find Gertie, I’m begging you to tell me.’
‘Begging, are you?’ Lady Quinn’s hooded eyes gleamed with triumph. ‘I like the sound of that. It puts you nicely in your place, shop girl.’
‘I don’t care what you call me, just tell me anything you know that could lead me to find Gertie.’
‘I don’t know why I should. Life has been so peaceful without her and her megrims.’ Lady Quinn sank down onto her chair, holding her bony hands out to the fire even though it was a warm day and the heat in the room was stifling. She shot a sideways glance at Clara and bared her teeth in a smile. ‘You must have gathered that there is a connection between Patches Bragg and myself?’
‘It’s obvious that you didn’t get along,’ Clara said warily.
‘That’s right. We don’t see eye to eye on many things.’
‘I really don’t understand, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what you know.’
‘You are a persistent little thing, aren’t you?’ Lady Quinn sighed, shaking her head. ‘All right, I’ll tell you everything. What I have to say will shock, but then that’s how I’ve lived my life. I was beautiful once.’ She leaned forward, fixing Clara with a piercing look. ‘Can you believe that?’
‘Yes, it goes without saying.’
‘A good answer. Sit down, shop girl.’
Clara pulled up a stool. ‘I’m listening.’
‘I was fourteen when my mother died after a long illness. Papa remarried within weeks of Mama’s funeral and his new wife was already with child.’
‘Gertie?’
‘Yes, of course. I was hurt and angry, and disliked my stepmother on sight. Papa decided that it would be best for everyone if I was sent to Paris to study art and music, but I knew it was just to get me out of the way. I stayed with a family who were only interested in the money that my father paid them to keep me, and I ran away. I ended up in Montmartre working as a waitress and it was there I met Laurent Duclos.’
‘Duclos?’ Clara was suddenly alert. ‘Was he related to Patches’ husband?’
‘He was Patches’ husband, although I didn’t know that at the time. I was young and inexperienced and I thought he was in love with me. It was only when I told him that I was with child that I discovered he had a wife, and she also was enceinte, as the French say.’
‘How awful,’ Clara said sincerely. ‘What did you do?’
‘I couldn’t go home. Papa would have disowned me, and I was penniless. I had to rely on Laurent to take care of me until my baby was born.’
‘What happened to the child?’ Clara hardly dared ask, but she had to know.
‘It was a boy.’ Lady Quinn’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I held him for a few moments only and then the midwife took him away. That was the last I saw of Dagobert.’
Stunned, Clara stared at her, struggling to come to terms with what she had just heard. ‘Dagobert? But he is Patches’ son.’
‘Her child was stillborn only hours before mine. I didn’t find out until days later, but Amelie, as she was known then, was ill for some time after the birth. Laurent told me that he put my baby in the cradle and the dead child was buried in an unmarked grave.’
‘Why didn’t you tell anyone?’
‘Who would have believed me? I was little more than a child myself, and I was far away from home.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Laurent set me up in an apartment with a generous allowance, which would cease if I breathed a word of it to anyone or if I tried to see my son. I had no alternative but to accept. I had a maid to look after me, and Laurent introduced me to some of his wealthy friends.’
‘So you became a courtesan?’
‘If you wish to call it that, then yes, I did. I don’t mind admitting it. I learned to use men as I had been used, and eventually I met Sir Frederick Quinn, who was on a business trip. He was much older than me, but he was kind and thoughtful. When he proposed marriage I decided that I’d had enough of Paris and I wanted to return to London. When I saw this house for the first time I knew I had made the right decision.’
Clara frowned thoughtfully. ‘So Dagobert Duclos, also known as Bert Bragg, is your son.’
Lady Quinn nodded. ‘He is.’
‘Then Gertie is his aunt.’
‘Funny, isn’t it? Gertie knew nothing of my history, and my boy grew up under the influence of that evil woman. He is a lecher and a criminal, and Gertie was fool enough to imagine herself in love with him.’
‘How did they meet?’
‘Her mother died in childbirth when Gertie was two, and the baby lived only a few days. Our father passed away when Gertie was eight and, as her only living relation, I was honour-bound to take her in and raise her. I did my duty and put her in the charge of a series of nannies, followed by a strict governess. I had no sisterly feelings for the child and I have none now. She has always been a thorn in my flesh and now I’m quite certain she’s taken my son from me.’
‘But he was lost to you at birth. Terrible as that must have been, you parted with him long ago, Lady Quinn. Why haven’t you told Gertie the truth?’
‘I wasn’t to know that she would meet him. She was a wayward child and became even more rebellious as time went by. When she was too old for the schoolroom I sent her to Paris and allowed her to live in the apartment that Laurent had bought for me. I’d kept it even after I married Freddie. It was a symbol of my freedom, as I thought, and it was somewhere I used to go when life in London became too much for me.’
‘But Paris is a big city. It seems a huge coincidence that led to a meeting between Gertie and your son.’
‘Patches is a vindictive woman. She came to see me one day at the apartment shortly after I married Freddie. She had suffered from smallpox and survived, but she was scarred for life. I think it had twisted her mind too and she was insanely jealous of any woman who had ever known Laurent. She knew that we had been lovers and she threatened to have me killed if I ever saw him again.’
‘Did she know that Bert Bragg was your son?’
‘No, but she knew I had a half-sister. Perhaps she thought she would hurt me by introducing her son to Gertie. She must have been aware of his reputation as a womaniser and a libertine, and I think she wanted him to break Gertie’s heart. If I hadn’t sent her to Paris none of this would have happened.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Clara said, mystified. ‘If Laurent Duclos was so wealthy, why would Patches come to England and set up a gaming house in Angel Court, of all places?’
‘She has a weakness for the gaming tables. She inherited the exclusive gaming club in Paris when Laurent died, but I’ve been told that she upset so many of the members that she was banned from the premises, even though she was the owner. So she came to London and with Bert’s help she set up her own club. Like water, they found their own level and fell in with the criminal fraternity. My baby boy has grown up to be someone I am ashamed to call my son. He has broken my heart, but she will never have the satisfaction of knowing that.’
For the first time, Clara felt sorry for Garland Quinn. The harrowing tale had touched her more than she could have thought possible and she could see that the retelling had taken its toll on Lady Quinn.
‘That is a terrible story.’
‘I might never have known about their relationship, but Gertie returned from Paris a year ago demanding equal shares of the money that our father had left, even though it was willed to me, and she wanted control of the trust fund that she had inherited from her mother. Bert had finished with her and she was desperate to win him back.’
‘Did you tell her that he is your son?’
‘No. I couldn’t bring myself to admit the truth, even to my sister. I don’t know if it was shame or pride that prevented me from saying anything, but I wish now that I had had the courage to speak out.’
‘No wonder Gertie was in such a state when I found her.’
‘I don’t want the shop or the money that was left to her. There is no love lost between us, but I was genuinely trying to protect her interests.’ Lady Quinn met Clara’s gaze with an apologetic smile. ‘I didn’t know anything about you when we first met, and it seemed to me that you were a poor girl, out to take advantage of my sister. Perhaps I was mistaken.’
‘Yes, you were. I will make a success of the store, but Gertie will always be the owner and she will share in the profits. And, it may seem odd to you, but I care about her as a friend. Maybe if you got to know her better you would like her too.’
‘I don’t know about that, but when all is said and done, she is my half-sister.’
‘Do you have any idea where she might be now?’
‘If she’s still with Dagobert they might be in my Paris apartment.’ Lady Quinn rose from her chair and walked over to a rosewood escritoire. She sat down and began writing something on a sheet of paper. ‘I’ll give you the address, should you decide to go to the rescue. I, alas, am too old for such heroics.’
‘Do you think he’s holding her against her will?’
‘I think it would amuse him to treat her badly.’ Lady Quinn turned her head to give Clara a long look.
‘He’s still your son, Lady Quinn.’
She shook her head. ‘My son was lost to me the moment Patches held him in her arms. She twisted the child’s mind. From the cradle he was taught to think only of himself and to worship money and possessions. He’s inherited a cruel streak from his father and I know I’ll never see him again, but Gertie can be saved.’ She dipped her pen in the inkwell. ‘I’m writing a cheque for an amount that will help you in your search for my sister. If this isn’t enough you must come to me again and I’ll give you more.’
Clara stood up and crossed the floor to take it from her. ‘This is far too much.’
‘Nonsense. Call it a salve to my conscience. If you find Gertie you can tell her that I’m sorry for what she’s suffered and I would like to make amends. Life is too short to bear grudges, and I have no other family.’ She folded the piece of paper and handed it to Clara. ‘This is the address. The concierge has been there ever since I can remember, and his sharp eyes miss nothing.’
‘Do you think that Patches will be there, too?’
‘I doubt it. She lives in rue de Rivoli.’
‘Yes, I’ve been there.’
‘You know that you don’t have to do this, shop girl,’ Lady Quinn said with wry smile. ‘It’s a lot to ask when you’re just getting your business going. I could hire a private detective to find Gertie.’
‘I wouldn’t hear of it. Gertie is my business partner and I won’t rest until I find her and bring her home. My sisters can manage the shop for a while. They’re perfectly capable of taking care of things for a few days or even a week or two. I’ll leave for France as soon as possible.’
‘What?’ Lizzie demanded angrily. ‘You’re going away again?’
‘I think it’s the right thing to do,’ Jane volunteered.
‘Be quiet, Jane. You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Lizzie gave her a withering look. ‘We’re just beginning to do well, Clara. You can’t leave us.’
‘You are all more than capable of looking after the shop in my absence, and I’ll only be gone for a few days.’ Clara turned to Betsy, who had remained silent. ‘You can manage, can’t you?’
Betsy nodded. ‘Just as long as it is only a few days, Clara. If it turns out to be longer we might find it hard to cope.’
‘Anyway, you can’t journey to France on your own,’ Lizzie said firmly. ‘Look at the trouble you got yourself into last time.’
‘That was not my fault. You know what Joss Comerford did.’
Lizzie’s jaw set in a stubborn line. ‘You still need a chaperone. You’re a young, unmarried woman. It’s just not done.’
Clara looked to Nathaniel, who had been sitting quietly at the kitchen table. ‘Paris isn’t the end of the world, is it, Nat? You know it better than I do.’
He stood up, brushing crumbs from his jacket. ‘That was delicious cake, Jane. Your customers will love it.’
‘Never mind that,’ Clara said impatiently. ‘Please tell my sisters that I will be quite safe in Paris.’
‘There’s no need to worry, ladies,’ Nathaniel said, smiling. ‘Clara won’t be travelling on her own. I intend to accompany her.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Leaving the shop in the care of her sisters was not as straightforward as Clara had anticipated. She had made arrangements with the bank for Lizzie to handle the financial side of things in her absence, and had given her permission for the alterations to the upper floor to go ahead. It had been a difficult decision, but Clara had to admit that Lizzie was perfectly capable of overseeing the work, and they sat up late one evening going over the plans in detail.
‘There’s just one thing,’ Lizzie said as they were about to retire for the night. ‘I want you to promise me that you won’t give Nat any encouragement. We’re getting on very well, and I think he likes me, so I don’t want you giving him the wrong impression and spoiling things.’
