Chapter 13

13

1885

Matthew tugged down the brim of his flat plaid cap and glanced across the carriage at Lillian. "I'll be back as soon as I can. This shouldn't take long." He grabbed the wooden crate of vegetables and climbed down. Dressed in old work clothes, he hoped to pass down the street unnoticed. He pressed his shoulder against the carriage door and closed it tight.

Lillian looked out the window. Her forehead creased, and emotion flickered in her eyes. "Please be careful."

He nodded, touched by her concern. Then he looked up at the coachman. "Stay with the carriage. Mrs. Freemont will be waiting here."

The coachman nodded. "Very good, sir."

Matthew turned and strode down the narrow side street, toting the crate of carrots, potatoes, and onions. Few people were out this early in the morning. An old man in a tattered hat and coat drove past in a rickety horse-drawn cart. An elderly woman swept the area in front of a small tailor's shop, but no one else ventured into his path.

He rounded the corner of Commercial Road and slowed his pace, studying the buildings. Three doors down, the sign for the Golden Swan hung on a wrought-iron bar above the front window. When they'd driven by in the carriage, he'd spotted steps going down to a lower-level entrance just past the front door. He shot off a silent prayer and continued down the street.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he took the stone steps down and stopped before an old wooden door. He hefted the crate onto one arm, gave a brisk knock, and waited. No one answered, so he knocked again.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he strained to listen for any sounds inside. Finally, the door creaked open a few inches.

A young girl looked out. She had bright blue eyes and a mess of red curls falling from her white cap. "Yes, sir?"

"Good morning. I have a delivery." He nodded to the crate.

She sent him a surprised glance. "Where's Harry?"

"I'm the one delivering today."

She bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. "Mrs. Crocker isn't down yet."

"That's all right. I can just drop these off in the kitchen."

She nodded and opened the door wider. "This way."

He stepped inside and followed the barefoot girl. She couldn't be more than ten years old and wore a ragged blue dress with a stained white apron over the top. "My name's Matthew. What's your name?"

She glanced at him with a worried look. "Why do you ask?"

He smiled. "Just being friendly."

A flash of fear crossed her face, and she stepped back. She'd probably met too many men who wanted to be friendly .

He softened his voice. "Please, don't worry about me. I mean you no harm. I'll just drop these off and be on my way."

She sighed, looking tired, and motioned to the open doorway across the hall. "You can put the vegetables in there."

"Thank you." He stepped into the kitchen. The long rectangular room was lit by a row of windows near the ceiling. A big wooden worktable filled the center of the room. Shelves and cupboards lined the walls around the sink, and a big cookstove stood to the left. The girl followed him in but kept her distance.

Another small girl with long blond hair stood on an overturned crate, cracking eggs into a bowl. She wore a loose green dress and dirty yellow apron. She was also barefoot.

His heart lurched. Was she Mary Graham?

She looked up, fearful questions reflected in her brown eyes.

Disappointment coursed through him. Mary Graham had blue eyes. This was not the girl they were seeking. He pushed that thought aside. "Good day." He added a cheerful lilt to his voice, hoping to calm their suspicions. "I have some nice fresh vegetables for you."

The blonde shot a quizzical glance at the girl who had answered the door. "Nancy, why'd you let him in?"

She shrugged. "I couldn't very well turn him away. Mrs. Crocker wouldn't like that."

"We can't pay you," the blonde said.

"That's all right. I'm sure the Golden Swan has an account."

She pointed to the table. "You can leave them there."

He lowered the crate. "Mrs. Crocker is the cook?"

Nancy nodded. "That's right, but she won't be down for a while."

He glanced around the kitchen, noting the stack of dirty pots and pans on the counter. "You girls look awfully young to be working here. How old are you?"

The blonde shot Nancy an uneasy look.

He raised his hand. "Don't worry. I won't cause you any trouble."

They said nothing, so he continued. "Did either of you live at the Foundling Hospital before you came here?"

Nancy shook her head. "I stayed at the workhouse with my granny, but she died. Mr. Bradbury brought me here." She glanced at the blonde. "Jane's always lived here."

He made a mental note of Mr. Bradbury's name and glanced at Jane. "This has always been your home?"

Jane nodded. "My mum used to work upstairs, but she got sick and died. Mr. Bradbury said I could stay on as long as I do what Mrs. Crocker says."

"It's just you two helping Mrs. Crocker and doing all the work? No other girls?"

They glanced at each other.

He cocked his eyebrows. "Is there someone else?"

Nancy bit her lip, then said, "There's Ellen."

Jane flashed a heated glance at Nancy. "Don't say anything else!"

"Why not? Maybe he can help her."

"Mr. Bradbury will skin you alive if you don't hush up," Jane whispered.

Nancy lifted her chin. "Ellen needs to see a doctor."

A jolt of concern shot through him. "She's ill?"

Nancy squirmed. "Not exactly ill ... just roughed up and hurting."

He stiffened. "I can take her to the doctor."

Both girls' eyes widened, and they exchanged anxious glances.

"She can't leave," Jane insisted. "We're not allowed."

"Who roughed her up?"

Jane clamped her mouth closed and looked away, obviously refusing to say.

He shifted his gaze to Nancy. "I know a kind doctor who would be glad to help her. I can take her there now."

Nancy hurried over to Jane and tugged her down from the crate. She leaned in and whispered in Jane's ear. Jane shook her head and said something back, but their voices were so low he couldn't hear their words. The whispered argument continued a few more seconds. Finally, Nancy turned toward him. "Come with me."

He followed her out of the kitchen and down the hall. She walked quietly, her feet barely making a sound on the rough wooden floorboards. She opened a door on the right and motioned him inside. He stepped into a dark musty room that smelled of dirty bedding and unwashed bodies. A lantern turned low sat on a table by the narrow bed in the corner. A ragged brown blanket covered a small, still form.

Nancy crossed to the bed. "Ellen?"

The girl on the bed didn't move.

Nancy turned the blanket down and touched Ellen's shoulder.

Matthew took a few steps closer. The girl's face was covered with a tangle of dark hair.

Nancy leaned down and whispered, "Ellen, there's a man here who wants to help you. He says he can take you to see the doctor."

"What?" Ellen's voice sounded weak and scratchy.

Nancy gently brushed the hair away from Ellen's face.

He sucked in a breath and clenched his jaw. The girl's cheek was badly bruised, and one eye was swollen shut. Her lower lip was cut and puffy.

He squatted next to her bed. "Hello, Ellen. I'm Matthew. I'm sorry someone hurt you. I'd like to take you to see my friend who is a doctor. I'm sure he'll help you feel better."

Ellen's eyelashes fluttered, and she sent him a fearful glance. "I can't leave. Mr. Bradbury would kill me for sure."

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen." He turned to Nancy. "Does Ellen have a coat or shawl?"

Nancy darted to the peg on the wall and retrieved a brown wool shawl. "She can have mine."

"That's kind of you." He focused on Ellen. "Can you sit up?"

Nancy reached down and helped her friend, lifting her and wrapping the shawl around her shoulders. She looked up at Matthew. "I don't think she can walk very far."

"Ellen, I'd like to carry you. Is that all right?"

She sent him a confused look, as though she was surprised he would ask her permission. Clutching the shawl tightly, she nodded.

He wrapped the blanket around the frail girl and lifted her into his arms. She weighed much less than he'd expected. He looked down at Nancy. "Check the hall and see if anyone's there."

She nodded, then darted to the door. A second later, she looked back at him. "All clear."

He carried Ellen down the hall, past the kitchen. Jane watched from the kitchen doorway with her hand over her mouth and a fearful look in her eyes.

"Don't worry. She's safe with me. I promise." He kept his voice low and his head down, holding Ellen close to his chest.

Nancy ran ahead and opened the outer door for him.

"Thank you." He wished he could take all three girls. But right now, Ellen was the one most in need of help.

Lillian leaned toward the open carriage window and looked out. Her stomach tensed. Where was Matthew? At least fifteen minutes had passed since he'd gone into the Golden Swan. She'd agreed to wait in the carriage, but she'd never imagined it would take this long. What if someone had realized he wasn't a deliveryman? What would they do to him?

She thrust open the carriage door.

The coachman turned in his seat. "Mrs. Freemont, did you need something?"

"I'm just going to walk to the corner and look down the street."

"But Mr. McGivern said you're to wait here."

"I'll be fine." She set off down the narrow side street, scanning the buildings and view ahead. When she reached the corner, she glanced both ways. A few men walked past the shops and businesses lining Commercial Road, but Matthew was not among them.

She couldn't leave him on his own to face whatever had happened at the Golden Swan. She started down the street in the direction of the brothel.

Two policemen walked toward her. She lowered her head, intending to pass them on the left, but one of them stepped into her path and stopped her. "Where are you going, missy?"

She pulled in a startled breath and looked up.

The taller policeman with muttonchop sideburns and a thick, dark moustache looked her over with a steely-eyed gaze. "What are you doing out so early in the morning?"

She lifted her chin and kept her gaze steady. "I'm going to meet a friend. Now, if you'll excuse me." She stepped to the right, attempting to go around him.

The other policeman blocked her way. "Not so fast."

Her heartbeat sped up, and she took a step back. Her gaze darted from one policeman to the other. "I've done nothing wrong. You have no reason to stop me."

"Who is this friend , and where are you meeting him?" His suggestive tone made it sound as though she was headed for an illicit rendezvous.

She swallowed, debating her answer. She couldn't very well tell him she was going to the Golden Swan. That would only make them more suspicious. She straightened her shoulders. "I can assure you, there is nothing improper about my friend or our meeting." She stepped to the left.

The taller policeman grabbed her arm. "We have orders to arrest women walking the streets."

Lillian gasped. "I am not a woman of the street!"

"We'll see about that." The shorter policeman took hold of her other arm, and the two began tugging her across the road, away from the Golden Swan.

"You are mistaken!" Lillian's thoughts flashed back to her visit to Mercy House and what the girls had said about being misunderstood and arrested. She tried to jerk out of their grasp, but it was impossible. "You've no cause to arrest me! I am a respectable woman!"

"That's what they all say," the taller policeman muttered, tightening his hold.

"Please, you don't understand. I've come here to help—"

"Stop!" a man shouted behind them.

Lillian looked over her shoulder, and her heart surged. Matthew jogged down the street after them. In his arms he carried a girl wrapped in a blanket. Had he found her niece? "Matthew!"

The policemen turned, dragging Lillian around with them.

Matthew caught up, his gaze darting from Lillian to the policemen. "What's going on?" He shifted the girl in his arms, revealing her bruised face and swollen eye. "Where are you taking Mrs. Freemont?"

The taller policeman tipped his head toward Lillian. "You know her?"

"Yes. Mrs. Freemont and I are intent on helping young girls who've been forced to work in establishments such as these." He glanced toward the Golden Swan, making his meaning clear.

The taller policeman's gaze dropped to the girl in Matthew's arms. His serious expression eased, and a hint of sympathy crossed his face. "That's one of the girls?"

"Yes, and she needs a doctor's care. Mrs. Freemont's carriage is just around the corner."

Lillian noted the girl's hair was dark brown, not blond. He hadn't found Alice, but from the bruises on the girl's face and her swollen mouth, she was in desperate need of rescue.

The two policemen exchanged glances and let go of Lillian's arms. "You're free to go, but don't get caught walking around here on your own. The Contagious Disease Act is still in effect. We're supposed to bring in any women we suspect of—"

"I understand," Lillian quickly replied. She turned to Matthew. He shot her an exasperated look, then tilted his head in the direction of the carriage.

She gave a quick nod, and they set off, leaving the policemen behind.

"What were you thinking?" He lowered his voice, but it didn't hide his anger.

"I was thinking you'd been gone much longer than I expected, and I was concerned."

"I told you to wait in the carriage."

"I did wait, but when so much time passed, I thought something might have happened to you."

"So you ignored your promise to me, came out on your own, and almost got yourself arrested!"

"Don't scold me. I left the carriage because I thought you might need my help."

His stormy expression remained unchanged. "We'll discuss this later. Right now, we've got to get this girl to a doctor."

The little girl had snuggled down in the blanket, leaving only the top of her head showing. Lillian's heart seized. The poor child appeared to be in dreadful condition. Who could've done such a terrible thing to a defenseless little girl?

They rounded the corner, and the carriage came into view. Relief rushed through Lillian. "Let's take her to my home. I can send for Dr. Frasier."

"I can take her to Reverend Howell's. You're already caring for your sister."

Lillian's throat swelled, and she touched his arm. "Please, let me care for her."

He studied her a moment more. "Very well."

Her coachman jumped down as soon as he saw them coming and jerked open the carriage door.

"Hold her while I get in." Matthew passed the little girl to the coachman, then climbed in. The man carefully handed her to Matthew. He sat back and settled the girl on his lap, adjusting the blanket so her face was revealed once more.

Lillian's coachman offered his hand, and she climbed in and sat opposite Matthew. The girl lay still and quiet, her swollen face pressed against his chest. Had she fallen asleep, or had she lost consciousness from her injuries? Her heart clenched again, and she lifted a silent prayer for mercy.

Lillian followed Matthew up the stairs. Mrs. Pringle and her maid, Bessie, had gone ahead and down the hall toward the second bedroom.

As Lillian passed Serena's open door, her sister called out, "Lillian, who is that?"

Lillian stepped back to her sister's doorway. "That's Mr. McGivern, the journalist from the Gazette ."

Serena's eyes widened, and she rose on one elbow. "The child in his arms—is it Alice?"

Lillian's throat tightened. "No, dear, it's not Alice. It's a young girl named Ellen who needs our help."

"What happened? Where did you find her?"

"I need to get her settled. I'll come back and explain everything as soon as I can."

Serena rose to a sitting position. "Please, tell me now."

Lillian glanced down the hall as Matthew stepped into the next bedroom. It would only take a moment to calm Serena. Mrs. Pringle and Bessie would know how to begin helping Ellen.

She turned to Serena. "We heard there might be some young girls working at a brothel called the Golden Swan in White Chapel. We thought there was a possibility Alice had been taken there. Mr. McGivern went in this morning disguised as a deliveryman. He didn't find Alice, but he spoke to two girls, and they told him about Ellen. I'm afraid she has been badly beaten."

Serena lifted her hand to her mouth. "Oh my goodness. Who would beat a child?"

"I don't know. It seems impossible to me as well. I've sent for Doctor Frasier."

"Please let me know what he says after he sees her."

"I will. Rest now, and I'll give you a full report when we know more."

Serena nodded and slowly lay back on her pillows.

Lillian left Serena and entered the next bedroom. Matthew stood to the side, watching as Bessie and Mrs. Pringle unwrapped the blanket from around Ellen. The girl's eyes remained closed, and her limbs hung limp. A shot of fear coursed through Lillian. Were they too late?

The girl moaned, and relief rushed through Lillian. There was still hope.

Lillian spoke to Bessie as she crossed to the bed. "Please bring up some hot water and towels. Then fetch one of the nightgowns from my room." It would be huge on the girl, but that was the best they could offer at present.

"Yes, ma'am." The maid hurried out of the room.

Lillian turned to Matthew, knowing she needed to release him so he could return to his work at the Gazette or whatever else he had planned for the day. "Thank you for bringing us home—and for everything."

Matthew's gaze darted from the girl to Lillian. "I'd like to stay until we hear what the doctor says."

A rush of gratitude filled Lillian. "There is a bench in the hall if you'd like to wait there. Or would you prefer to wait downstairs in the sitting room?"

"No, I'll wait up here, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. It will be a comfort to know you're near." As soon as the words left her mouth, heat flooded her cheeks.

A flash of surprise crossed his face, then a slight smile lifted one side of his mouth. "I'll be right outside in the hall if you need anything." He gave a brief nod, then walked out.

Lillian shook her head. Why had she said that? She wasn't trying to be flirtatious. But it was true. She appreciated Matthew's strength and wisdom, and she felt safe when he was near.

But a small vine of worry wove around her heart. She must be more careful about expressing her thoughts and feelings. She didn't want to give him the wrong impression. They were partners in the search and had become friends, but anything more was not possible. The risks were too great—too painful—to consider. Love and loss always went hand in hand. And her heart could not bear more devastating grief.

Matthew paced down the hall, then turned and made his way back to the bench. He pulled his watch from his pocket and checked the time. Dr. Frasier had been with the girl for more than twenty minutes. It was almost ten, well past time that he should report in at the Gazette .

He was nearly finished with the article that was due on his editor's desk tomorrow morning, but he needed to continue confirming the facts and polishing what he'd written. It was a lengthy piece that he hoped would stir readers to action. He glanced at the closed bedroom door once more. He couldn't leave, not until he was sure Ellen was going to recover.

The bedroom door opened, and Lillian and Dr. Frasier stepped into the hall. Matthew rose and joined them.

Lillian motioned to Matthew. "Doctor Frasier, this is Matthew McGivern. He's a journalist with the Pall Mall Gazette . He's the one who discovered Ellen at the Golden Swan."

The doctor met his gaze with shining eyes. "It's a good thing you found that little girl when you did. She's severely dehydrated and weakened from lack of food and ill treatment. I'm not sure how much longer she would've lasted without your intervention."

Matthew straightened. "She will recover, won't she?"

"I believe so. Her face is badly bruised and swollen, and she appears to have a broken rib, but there don't seem to be any other injuries. With rest, nourishing food, and good care, she should regain her health. Overcoming the emotional wounds from her poor treatment may take longer than her physical healing."

Matthew clenched his jaw and nodded. No child should ever be treated as Ellen had.

The doctor glanced at Lillian. "She and your sister have much in common."

A question lit Lillian's eyes.

"They both need healing for their body and their spirit." The doctor shifted his gaze to Matthew. "I'm glad to meet you, Mr. McGivern. Thank you for what you did for Ellen. I hope to see you again." He extended his hand.

Matthew shook it. "Thank you."

Dr. Frasier turned to Lillian. "I'll stop by tomorrow morning before ten to look in on Ellen, and I'll see your sister then as well. Send word if Ellen worsens in any way."

"I will. Thank you, Doctor."

"No need to come down. I know the way." Dr. Frasier nodded to them, then started down the stairs.

Matthew turned to Lillian. "I'm relieved to hear his report."

"Yes." She looked up at him, sincerity shining in her expression. "You saved a life today."

" We saved a life." His heart lifted as he held her gaze. "I know I resisted your idea of going to the Golden Swan, but I believe Providence guided us there."

Lillian nodded. "He saw Ellen's need and sent us there to rescue her."

He turned his cap in his hand, thinking through what he needed to say. Finally, he met her gaze. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted when I saw those policemen hauling you away. I shouldn't have spoken so harshly."

"It's all right. I was so stunned by their assumptions. I didn't handle it well." She hesitated, then added, "I should've waited in the carriage as you asked. I'm sorry."

He gave a slight nod, pleased she'd also offered that apology. Seeing those two beefy policemen dragging her across the street had shaken him even more than seeing Ellen's bruised and battered face.

"Lillian?" Serena called from her room.

"Yes?" Lillian walked down the hall and looked through the open doorway. Matthew followed and stopped beside Lillian.

Lillian's sister sat up in bed, several pillows behind her back. She wore a blue robe and held an open book in her lap. Her wavy blond hair hung in a single braid over her shoulder. She looked from Matthew to Lillian. "Please, come in. What did the doctor say?"

Matthew and Lillian entered, but he waited by the door while Lillian crossed to the bed. He wasn't in the habit of visiting women in their bedrooms, but he supposed with both sisters there, it wasn't improper.

Lillian relayed Dr. Frasier's report and instructions for Ellen's care.

Sympathy filled Serena's eyes as she listened. "Oh, the poor girl. Who would do such a thing?"

"I don't know, but someone at the Golden Swan has a very hard heart."

Serena's gaze moved to the doorway. "I hate to think of her alone in that room. Why don't you move her in here with me? I'd be glad to watch over her."

Lillian hesitated. "But you're still recovering, and you need your rest."

"How can I rest knowing she is all by herself?"

"Bessie and I will take turns caring for her. She won't be alone until she's much stronger."

"I want to help. It will do me good to have someone to think about other than myself."

Lillian laid her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Let's see how she's doing tomorrow."

Serena looked his way. "Mr. McGivern, don't you think it would be a comfort for the girl to stay in here with me?"

He darted a glance at Lillian. "I'm sure you and your sister can work out what is best for everyone concerned."

Serena lay back with a sigh. "Very well, but if she improves tomorrow, I hope you'll move her in here. We could be good company for each other."

Matthew slipped his hand in his pocket, feeling his watch, then glanced at Lillian. "My first article for the series is due tomorrow. I should be going."

"Of course." She motioned to the door. "I'll see you out." They left Serena's room and walked downstairs.

When they reached the entry hall, he stopped and turned to Lillian. The light from the stained-glass window spread a rainbow of color over her dark hair and fair face. She was beautiful, and the trusting look in her eyes sent a ripple of surprise through him. He shifted his gaze away. He should not let his thoughts take him down a hopeless road.

He cleared his throat. "I'll speak to Reverend Howell about Ellen. Perhaps he'll know someone who might be willing to take her in when she's a bit stronger."

"Let's not make plans to move her." Her words sounded like a gentle appeal.

"Are you certain?"

She nodded. "I am."

He shifted his weight, suddenly reluctant to leave her. He squelched that thought with a silent reprimand. He had an article to finish. There was no reason to stay any longer.

"Thank you ... for all you did today." Her voice softened, and she looked up at him expectantly.

The warmth and appreciation in her voice melted his resistance, and he stepped toward her. "I'm glad we could take Ellen out of that dreadful place.... I'm just sorry we didn't find Alice."

The light in her eyes faded, and the sorrow returned.

He wanted to reach out, touch her arm, and tell her everything would be all right, but he couldn't make that promise, nor could he express his feelings for her in such a personal way. It wouldn't be right.

He pulled in a deep breath. "I'll keep looking while I'm working on the articles. I'll let you know what I learn."

She nodded, but he could tell the weight of concern for her sister and niece had returned, dampening her spirits. "I don't want to keep you. I know you have work to do."

"Yes, I do." He broke eye contact and forced himself to turn away. "Good-bye, Lillian."

She opened the door, and he stepped out into the midday sun and descended the steps.

What was he thinking? When he'd seen that look of openness and trust in her eyes, he'd almost crossed a line and shown her his true feelings. Were her actions just an emotional response to all they'd experienced that morning, or did they mean something more?

He shook his head. He had better be careful. He was becoming much too attached to Lillian Freemont.