Darke London Page 7

  “I d—do apologise, sir, but we could not wait,” Pip stammered out, his brow bathed in sweat.

  Sir Thaddeus glowered at him, ignoring Nellie’s presence so pointedly it was as if she didn’t even exist. Gradually the puce in his face receded, and the incandescent rage in his eyes cooled to an adamantine glitter. Unclenching his jaw, he said more evenly, “I’m glad to see you’ve regained your senses and returned to London.” He put his arm around his son’s shoulders and wheeled him away from Nellie. “Come into my study, boy. We have a lot to discuss.”

  “But—but sir, my wife…” Pip darted an anxious glance at Nellie.

  Sir Thaddeus’s hawk-like face wrinkled up as if he’d caught an offensive smell. “That is one of the subjects of discussion. She can wait here,” he added over his shoulder.

  Nellie waited for Pip to shrug off his father’s hold and protest, but instead he seemed to shrink under Sir Thaddeus’s arm. “Do you mind waiting, Nellie? We shouldn’t be long.”

  Nellie stared after father and son in disbelief. Humiliated, she was forced to sit under the disdainful watch of a footman who failed to offer her any refreshment. Twenty minutes later, Pip returned, alone. He was shaking uncontrollably and could barely speak with any clarity. He grabbed Nellie’s arm and bundled her out of the house.

  On the way back to their lodgings, she received the story in dribs and drabs. Sir Thaddeus was adamant that Pip get rid of Nellie. He was to divorce her, Pip told her, on the grounds of adultery. Sir Thaddeus had given Pip the name of someone who would assist him in the matter, and would pay for the man’s services, but nothing more. Until Pip rid himself of his guttersnipe wife, Sir Thaddeus wouldn’t give him so much as a farthing.

  “Guttersnipe! How dare he?” Nellie seethed, stamping her boots as her indignation grew. “I may not be able to trace my ancestors back to the Domesday Book, but I’m more than respectable enough. I hope you rebuked him severely, Pip.”

  Pip merely wrung his hands and hunched his shoulders. “You do not understand. My father is inordinately proud of the Ormond name. We have so many illustrious forebears, so many achievements. But I am the last of the Ormonds, my father’s only son. It’s natural he’s upset at me marrying without his permission.”

  “How can you defend him so? His behaviour towards me was an insult and a slur.”

  “Please, Eleanor. Our marriage came as a great shock to Father, but hopefully he’ll come round if we lay low and give him time.”

  “Eleanor? Why are you calling me Eleanor?”

  “Well, it is your given name.” Pip shrugged uncomfortably. “And Nellie sounds so, er, so…”

  “Common?” She laughed bitterly and trudged even louder, scuffing her boots along the rough pavement. They were so poor they couldn’t afford a cab, and here was Pip wanting to call her Eleanor.

  “All will be well,” he pleaded. “We simply have to give my father time to adjust.”

  She stopped in her tracks and stared at him, wondering how he could be so spineless. “We don’t need to wait for your father to come round. I have nursing experience. I can apply for a position at one of the hospitals here in London.”

  Pip looked aghast. “You? Work? No, I could not allow my wife to work. It’s—it’s degrading, intolerable. I’ll not have it. Do you hear me, Eleanor?”

  She heaved a gust of exasperation. “Those are fine principles, but principles won’t feed us or keep us warm at night.”

  He winced as if such basic needs were too vulgar to be mentioned. “My reputation would not survive such an affront. You cannot become a drudge.”

  “You didn’t object when I was nursing in the asylum.”

  “But you did it out of kindness not mercenary gain. You were an angel of mercy. My angel. Oh, I cannot bear the thought of you becoming tarnished and coarsened. Please, my dear, let’s not argue any further. My head is splitting after quarrelling with Father, and all I wish is to get back to our lodgings and find some respite. You do understand, don’t you?”

  He gazed at her with a pitiful expression, and the sight of his agony melted her rancour. Poor Pip. His father was frightful, as bad a parent as her own unfortunate father. She and Pip must stand together. And besides, he was still recuperating from his mental collapse. She had to allow him some leeway. She was his wife, and she ought to be supporting him instead of haranguing him like a fishwife.

  “Of course, my dear. Let’s get home as quickly as possible. Shall we catch the omnibus?”

  She linked her arm with his and led him across the road, but even as she chided herself to be a better spouse, the niggling disquiet within her wouldn’t be silenced. When they reached their dingy lodgings, Pip retired to bed, declaring that he ached all over. She tried to rearrange the blankets, but he insisted she join him in bed. He clung to her, his head on her bosom, and would not let her go. As the night wore on, he became agitated and delirious. He moaned for his mama over and over, and Nellie could do nothing to calm him. The sound of him lamenting his long-dead mother set her teeth on edge. Was this really how a grown man ought to behave? Ashamed of her thoughts, she berated herself for her lack of charity and tried to whisper words of comfort to him.

  Over the following days Pip’s collapse worsened, and Nellie feared she would have to summon a physician, but she had no connections in the vast metropolis and very little money. Fortunately he began to recover. The fever passed, and he lay in bed listlessly thumbing his poetry volumes and sighing heavily. His nightly cries to his dead mama continued, though, and Nellie found them so unnerving she took to sleeping on the narrow settee whose broken springs tortured her back all night long.

  One day he went out and came back looking far more animated. He had a newspaper with him and showed her an advertisement for a spiritual medium who, for a small fee, would conduct a private séance for select customers.

  “I’ve always believed there is a close connection between this world and the next,” Pip said, all eagerness. “Madame Olga can communicate directly with the spirits who have departed to the afterlife. Her address is in Aldgate, not far from here. Shall we go?”

  Nellie was appalled. “You surely don’t believe in all that flummery, do you?”

  Pip gave her an offended look. “You shouldn’t mock something you have no understanding of. If you don’t wish to attend, I shall go by myself.”

  “But, Pip, we have little enough for food, and we’re behind on our rent. You can’t mean to squander money on such silliness.”

  “Oh, bosh! You’ve no business telling me what to do with my own money.”

  His haughty glare, too reminiscent of his father’s, made her heart sink. She tried to reason with him. “Pip, how will contacting the dead help us in our predicament?”

  For a few moments he sucked on his lower lip and eventually replied, “I wish only to speak with my dear mother and know she is well. Would you deny me that chance?”

  Her heart sank even further. She knew firsthand the pain of losing a mother. During her years of debilitating loneliness, at times she could have sworn she’d sensed the gentle presence of her mother’s spirit comforting her. But purposely attempting to commune with the dead—that was dabbling with the occult and best left alone. However, if it would stop Pip’s nightly cries, then perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for him to consult Madame Olga.

  “No, of course you must go,” she said.

  “I knew you would see things my way. And, my dear, do stop frowning so. I cannot have a wife with wrinkles.”

  So Pip went to Aldgate and returned filled with awe at the spiritualist’s powers. She had communicated with his dead mother, Pip told Nellie, and his mother had assured him she was at peace. Nellie was relieved, but her relief was short-lived when the following day he announced he was attending yet another session with Madame Olga. They argued once more. They were almost penniless, and Nellie knew the only solution was for her to seek work at one of the hospitals. But Pip obdurately refused, and a warm exchange en
sued, which left neither party satisfied. As if to press home his views, Pip pointedly returned to the spiritualist. When he came home, he was contrite but not remorseful, and though they were reconciled, Nellie was deeply troubled by the course their relationship appeared to be steering. The following morning she decided to seek employment at one of the hospitals without Pip’s knowledge or approval. If she was successful in her quest, then she would address his criticism. She put on her bonnet and jacket, told him she was going to the market and left the house. When she returned, Pip had vanished, and he remained gone for the rest of that day and the next.

  “This husband of yours,” Julian said with a cold glare. “Is he a man or a mouse?”

  “No, you’re too hard on him. Who wouldn’t be damaged by a parent like Sir Thaddeus? I myself know…” She trailed off just in time. The memory of her own father’s abandonment of her was too raw and fresh to share with anyone just yet.

  “He is a mouse, then. No man continues to lay the blame for his conduct on his father.”

  Nellie shook her head. “He’s a gentle soul caught in the most trying circumstances.” Even as she spoke, she wondered why she leaped so quickly to Pip’s defence. Was it because she secretly shared Julian’s low opinion? No, she cared for Pip. She was his wife. She loved him. Didn’t she?

  “Hmpf. He’s a weak weasel who abandoned you as soon as your back was turned and ran squealing back to his dear papa. Isn’t that what happened?”

  She winced and twisted her fingers together. Such brutal words, but she refused to believe them. “I don’t know what happened, but I suspected his father was involved. I thought perhaps Pip had gone to see his father and taken ill while he was there. So I returned to the Ormond house, but the footman wouldn’t let me in.” She paused, breathing harder as she recalled the humiliation of standing on that doorstep, pleading with the supercilious servant to allow her entry.

  A glimmer of compassion showed in Julian’s dark eyes. “What did you do?” he asked more softly.

  “I was furious to be treated like a mere street peddler. I banged on the door, but no one answered. I was so incensed I picked up a handful of gravel and hurled it at the windows.”

  Julian’s eyebrows shot up. “Never! I’d liked to have seen that.”

  She gave a rueful laugh. “I don’t know what came over me to turn me into such a hellion, but a few minutes later a Peeler came by, attracted no doubt by the commotion I was causing, so I desisted and returned home. That night an urchin knocked on my door and said a gentleman in a carriage was waiting for me downstairs. I went down and saw it was Sir Thaddeus.”

  Julian’s eyes narrowed. “So that was the night I was following Ormond.”

  “Yes.”

  He groaned. “Deuce take it, Nellie. You’re an intelligent woman. Why the devil did you get into Sir Thaddeus’s carriage? After the way he treated you, surely you must have been cautious.”

  “It’s all very well saying that now, but at the time I didn’t know how ruthless he could be. I was desperate to find Pip again, and Sir Thaddeus was my best hope, so I went with him.”

  “And?”

  An icy shiver crept down her spine. “And it was not long before he revealed his true colours.”

  As soon as the carriage lurched off, Nellie turned to the man sitting opposite her. He was dressed in black, his head covered by a felt cap. In the rocking dimness of the carriage, he was all but invisible, but his inimical presence filled the interior, stifling Nellie’s throat with trepidation.

  “Where is Pip?” she asked loudly, determined not to be cowed by his menacing aura. When he didn’t reply, she continued, “Have you kidnapped him? Prevented him from contacting me? Answer me, Sir Thaddeus. Where is my husband?”

  “He is not your husband,” Thaddeus suddenly snapped. “He is engaged to another woman. Has been for the past two years. He had no business running off with you.”

  Nellie gaped at him as the carriage jounced over the rough road. The blinds were shut, and she had no idea where they were going. “What nonsense. Pip would have told me if he was affianced to someone else. He wouldn’t have hidden something as important as that from me.”

  “Wouldn’t he?” Sir Thaddeus arched one of his thick eyebrows. “You obviously don’t know my son very well, or you’d be aware that he can say or do anything to please himself, including forgetting the childhood sweetheart he is bound to marry.”

  Engaged to a childhood sweetheart? Could Pip have concealed such momentous knowledge from her simply to persuade her to run away with him? “No, it’s not true. It can’t be true.” But her protest was fainter this time. Pip was in the habit of construing the world to suit his purposes. It was quite possible that in his mind he’d dismissed this earlier attachment as unimportant.

  “The marriage contracts have already been drawn up. The nuptials are planned for this spring.” Sir Thaddeus’s relentless voice drove home each point.

  “He cannot get married,” she protested. “He’s already married to me.”

  “It appears my son would have done anything to get into your petticoats, but why he would stand up in front of a vicar with you beggars belief.” He sneered at her in undisguised disgust. “No matter. Every error can be solved if one has sufficient determination. You are one mistake who will not be allowed to blight my son’s future.”

  “No, no, I’m no error.” She gouged her fingernails into the upholstery of the seat as nausea spiralled through her stomach. No wonder Pip had been slow to arrange their wedding and had only done so at her repeated requests. At the time she’d thought he was merely worried about the extra expense of procuring a marriage licence, but now she knew there was a solid reason for his reluctance—he had not been free to marry her. He was promised to another. He had lied to her most grievously…

  “My son had suffered a mental collapse when he eloped with you. He cannot be held accountable for his actions. A divorce will be easily obtained.” His basilisk eyes held her captive. He was so contemptuous, so sure of himself. He had her beaten, and he wanted the sadistic satisfaction of watching her squirm.

  “I’m sorry for the woman he was engaged to.” She cleared her throat. “But—but everything has altered. Pip and I are married, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You must accept that.”

  Thaddeus drew back. “I accept nothing from a brazen hussy. You think I’ll let you bring shame upon my family? What kind of imbecile do you take me for?”

  The threatening hiss in his voice ought to have been sufficient warning, but hot anger flooded her veins, loosening her tongue.

  “Not an imbecile but a bully, Sir Thaddeus. An oppressor of the worst kind. You’ve been persecuting Pip all his life. Why do you think he ran away and suffered a nervous collapse? Because of you, because of your constant bullying and hectoring. Pip is afraid of you, but I’m not. I shall stand by Pip, no matter what, and I’ll help him to break free of you. He did it once, he can do it again.”

  “Insolent slut! You dare to defy me?” Flecks of spittle flew from his mouth. “Phillip wants nothing more to do with you. He waited until you were out before running back to me, pleading with me to help him out of this mess. He’s tired of your coarse manners and vulgar behaviour.” The corners of his lips lifted in a sneer. “I’ll admit you’re a toothsome wench, but my son requires more when it comes to choosing a wife. Now, I’m prepared to give you a generous sum of money if you cooperate with my lawyers in the divorce and never bother my son again. Fifty pounds should be more than sufficient to compensate you for any inconvenience.”

  Nellie sucked in a breath. Her head reeled as though she’d been struck with a hammer, but her anger seethed.

  “Take me to Pip. Let me talk to him in private.”

  “He has no wish to see you.”

  “So you say, but I’ll not agree to anything until I’ve spoken with him.”

  Thaddeus expelled a derisive hiss. Under the brim of his cap his eyes took on a sinister sheen. “Fool
ish ninny, I knew you’d be too greedy to go quietly. You leave me no choice.” Lifting his cane, he banged on the roof of the carriage. The driver cracked his whip, the horses picked up speed, and the carriage jerked forward.

  Nellie clung to her seat as the vehicle careened around a corner. “Where—where are you taking me? I demand you stop at once and let me off.”

  “What kind of gentleman would I be if I did that? London at night is a dangerous place for a young woman on her own, full of pickpockets, cutthroats and ruffians. It would be very remiss of me to throw you into such danger.”

  The silky menace in his tone sent fright spearing through her heart. She tried desperately to cling to common sense. They were riding in the Ormond carriage with their coat of arms on display. Surely Sir Thaddeus wouldn’t risk his carriage being involved in a criminal act? Too late she realised the folly of her hot words. His perverse antagonism demanded her subservient capitulation, and instead of arguing she should have pretended to do his bidding until an opportunity for escape presented itself.

  “Sir Thaddeus…” She gulped, her throat constricting painfully. “I—I have reconsidered your generous offer. If you will just let me go I promise I—”

  “Oh, it’s too late for that. I can’t have you hanging in the background, a threat to my family’s future. God knows, I’ve made my sacrifices, marrying that vulgar cow for the good of the family, and I won’t have my son throwing all that away on you.” He pulled a face as he slapped his gloved hands together. “Bah! I’m tired of this. Tired of having to tie up loose ends all the time. First that insolent whippersnapper, and now you. Seems I’ve been fighting off dross for years. This country is going to the dogs. Foreigners pouring into London, brewers and millers buying estates. Nowadays any upstart with a bit of brass can set himself up in Mayfair and give himself airs and graces. To hell with ’em all. It sickens me to see these parvenus aping their betters. They should know their proper place in society.”