across to the window and looked out into the street.
‘He spoke the truth. His men are everywhere.’ Her blue gaze lingered thoughtfully on Jane. ‘That was very wise, Miss Verey. You have more sense than most of your contemporaries, who would be having the vapours by now!’
‘Thank you,’ Jane said coolly. ‘Please call me Jane.’
There was a hint of amusement in Therese’s gaze. ‘And you must call me Therese. I am sorry that a compassionate errand has put you in such an awkward position, Jane.’
Jane’s hazel eyes were bright as they rested on Therese’s face. ‘What did that unpleasant man mean when he said that you paid him to keep you out of the brothels?’
A hint of colour stole into Therese’s cheeks. ‘Just that,’ she said shortly. ‘Mr Samways is a business man, a man of many and varied interests! One of them is the ownership of a number of whorehouses. I did not care to be amongst his women, Jane, though he offered me the privilege of being his own mistress! So instead I pay him so that I need
Jane was momentarily silenced. ‘But what…could he…?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Therese said drily, ‘he could! He runs this neighbourhood, Jane, and everyone must contribute in some way!’
She sat down and stoically started to stitch the hem of the taffeta dress. Jane stared at her. After a moment Therese looked up and gave her a faint smile.
‘Does my sang-froid offend you, dear Jane? But you see, it is the way of the world! It is simply that you are usually protected from its harsh realities! Have no fear, Samways will quickly find your family, they will pay handsomely for you and you will be on your way home! A storm in a tea cup!’
‘I am not offended,’ Jane said, not entirely truthfully. ‘If you will pass me the underskirt, Therese, I shall occupy myself in helping you. I am not so neat a seamstress as you, but if you give me the bits that do not show…’
There was reluctant admiration in Therese’s eyes as she pushed the skirt across to Jane.
For a while they sewed in silence, but after a little, Jane said, ‘Perhaps you could tell me a little of yourself, Therese, to pass the time. I could chatter but I would prefer to hear about you, if you do not mind…’
Therese laughed. ‘Very well, Jane. Would you like the tale of my life? It starts in gilded luxury in Blois, where I was the pampered only child of the Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Beaurain. I had wardrobes of pretty clothes and servants at my beck and call. I remember nothing of those days for when I was still a baby my father was guillotined and we were forced to flee abroad. We went by night, running away, hiding like thieves…We came to England, where my mother worked for years as a teacher of French and later took in sewing when her health began to fail.’ She cast a swift, affectionate look across at the humped figure in the bed. ‘I did not go to school-my mother taught me until I was old enough to work, telling me all the time that I should try to better my position and remember whose daughter I was. What I remember is nothing of richness and luxury and everything of poverty and struggle.’ Despite the words her face was serene, untroubled.
‘Then I became French governess to a family in Kent…’ Therese shrugged a little. ‘It is the old story. I was young and the master of the house was old and importunate and the mistress unable to believe that he was resistible…I was turned off without a reference and for my next governess role I was obliged to take a job further down the social scale with a Cit who wished his daughters to become little ladies…’ Another shrug. ‘I have no time for rank and fortune-how could I, given my own circumstances? What value has rank been to me, the penniless daughter of a French nobleman? But these people were not even pleasant-petty, small-minded…In the end they dismissed me because they said they found my manner too high and mighty, but really they were uncomfortable to have a servant higher born than they. So I came back to London and took to sewing, like my mother.’ She bit her thread with sudden violence. ‘My mother’s health was deteriorating. It was that that prompted me to contact the Huntingtons and ask for help. Nothing else would have induced me to beg, for I am too proud.’ She met Jane’s eyes and smiled a little. ‘I know it is my besetting sin! Anyway, we received a grudging invitation to visit. Have you met the family, Jane? They are as proud as we, stiff and unbending, and they were not warm to their French cousins. Well, it would never have worked…I cannot be a poor relation-I would rather earn an honest wage. And so there was talk of ingratitude and pride, and we came back and took a room here. My mother became too ill to work and her medicine costs much, but we manage.’
‘And then, a few weeks ago, you went to Lady Aston’s masquerade,’ Jane said softly. Therese put down her sewing slowly. There was suddenly a distant look in her eyes. ‘Yes. Oh, Jane, it was a beautiful dress, that one. I have worked for years with silks and velvets, and never felt tempted, but that dress…The old Duchess-’ she gave a naughty smile ‘-I fear she could not do it justice. As soon as I saw it coming together under my hands I had to have it! I tried it on…and then I thought, why not? No one would know…so I ran up a domino as well and went to the masquerade. I had heard the Duchess mention it. And-’ she shrugged ‘-the rest you know.’
‘You danced with Simon,’ Jane said thoughtfully. ‘I saw the two of you. You looked very happy.’
Therese evaded her eyes. ‘I was enjoying myself. It was like a fairytale and the deception added spice to it all! Just for once…’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, I cannot say that I was mingling with my equals, in a place I was meant to be, for fate has decreed otherwise! But it was lovely. Then that toad of a man tried to importune me and your brother came to my aid…’ Her voice trailed away.
‘You like Simon, don’t you?’ Jane said perceptively. ‘Regardless of what you have said, I do believe…’
Therese looked away. She was silent for a moment. ‘Perhaps if things had been different…Yes-’ suddenly she pushed the dress away from her and stood up ‘-when I met him I thought-there is a man…’ there was a smile in her eyes ‘…and truly, I was tempted for the first time ever, but…’
‘But Simon does not want you to be his mistress!’ Jane objected. ‘He would never insult you so! He wants to marry you!’
‘Even worse!’ Therese said briskly. ‘Can you imagine people asking your mother about her daughter-in-law and she being obliged to say that it is the girl who made her dresses?’
‘Our family does not care about such things!’ Jane said staunchly.
Therese suddenly looked very tired. ‘Everybody cares about such things, Jane! But there is worse! You have seen Samways-can you imagine him coming to Portman Square and blackmailing me with threats to tell the
Chapter Fourteen
The afternoon dragged by. Shortly after lunch, a man brought some medicines for the Vicomtesse de Beaurain, and she roused herself sufficiently to take a spoonful at Therese’s coaxing.
‘What is the matter with her?’ Jane whispered softly, as Therese returned to the sewing-table. She did not wish to pry, but there was something unbearably touching about the patient devotion with which the daughter nursed her sick mother.
‘She has a weak chest and is forever suffering inflammation of the lungs,’ Therese said. ‘She needs to go to a hot climate, or to a spa, perhaps, to cure her.’ For a moment the tears shone in her eyes, then she blinked them back. ‘Now come! I need to finish this dress so that I may pay Samways!’
They talked some more. Therese spoke about her experiences as a governess and Jane told Therese about her childhood at Ambergate, managing to talk quite a lot about Simon in the process.
‘It sounds a delightful place to live,’ Therese said dreamily, when Jane had finished describing the rolling Wiltshire hills and lush fields. ‘But I suppose that all young ladies must come to London to make a suitable match. Are you betrothed yet, Jane? It would seem very likely!’
Jane blushed. She had managed to avoid speaking of Alex and even succeeded in not thinking about him for at least five minutes at a time.
‘No! Yes, that is, I suppose I am, in a manner of speaking…’
‘Well…’ suddenly Jane felt like confiding. ‘There is a gentleman who made an arrangement with my father that I
