Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

SOME HOURS EARLIER

M iss Bethany Whittaker, balanced precariously on the outside of the balcony to her bedroom and gripped the sheet she had tied to the railing with one hand, willing herself to let go of the balustrade with the other. This was the bravest and most foolish thing she had ever done, without a doubt, and fear held her immobile and shaking for a moment that felt like an eternity.

Everything sane in her screamed to clamber back over the balcony rail to safety, but the prospect of what awaited her on the other side if she did, finally goaded her into letting go of the rail and grabbing the sheet with both hands.

Letting herself down, hand over hand on the sheet, had seemed a simple matter when she planned it in her head, but the reality proved otherwise. The ground seemed a long way down and her arms and hands she discove red were not strong enough to hold her weight for any appreciable time. Her muscles taught and shaking, shrieking with the strain, she lowered herself to the end of the sheet and dropped to the grass below, landing in an undignified heap beside her valise, which she had dropped over the balcony earlier.

The summer sun was hovering at the horizon and darkness threatened. It had been hot for weeks, but today the weather had turned sullen, and the clouds were gathering, there was a distinct chill in the air.

After a few moments to catch her breath and still the shaking of her limbs, she rose, pulled the hood of her cloak over her honey-coloured curls and picked up the valise. Straightening her shoulders, she marched towards the back gate of the property's rear garden and let herself out into the alley. She was not going to marry Josiah Neeps, no matter what her stepfather said, and great Aunt Maddie would ensure it, if only she could get to her.

Her initial reaction when papa told her that Josiah Neeps had offered for her, was shock. Followed closely by disbelief when it became clear that this proposal had papa's blessing.

"Your sister's unconscionable behaviour makes it imperative you marry swiftly before she ruins all your chances Beth," he said with a regretful smile.

"But Papa-"

"Neeps is a good match. He has a secure job and lives close by, so you won't be far from us. And an older man will treat you kindly Beth."

"Older - he's forty-five!" gasped Beth, putting a hand to her chest where her heart was pounding.

"Beth in your circumstances is it likely that another man will have you?"

"Hiram!" protested her mother feebly.

Hot tears stung her lids, and she sat down hard on the settee behind her. "Papa, I did not plan to marry, you know that!"

"But my dear if something were to happen to me or your mother you would be alone-"

"I would not, Mary and Genevra would look after me!"

"It would not be fair to burden Mary with your care, she has her own family to think of and as for Genevra - she cannot care for herself, let alone you. A widow on her own in that Tavern it's a disgrace!"

"Papa, I do not wish to marry Mr Neeps!" she said earnestly.

"I am your father; you need to trust me that I know what is best for you Bethany."

"No!" she shook her head vehemently. "No! I won't! I will not!"

"Beth -" her mother moved towards her concern in her eyes. "You're distressing yourself, that isn't good for you."

Beth gulped and gasped for breath, rising she clenched her fists. "You can't make me marry him! I won't!"

"Beth I am your father, and you will do as I tell you!" Her stepfather's face turned red, and he raised his fist for emphasis. Not to hit her, he would never do that. All the s ame, his anger made her flinch. She hated arguments. Papa and Genevra were always fighting, she hated it, so did mama.

She wiped her face and sniffed. "I cannot, papa, I don't love him. I don't even like him! He's creepy and repulsive!"

"Now you're being silly my girl. You have taken some ridiculous notion into you head-" he stopped as if struck by a thought and softened his tone. "It is your female situation that makes you so hysterical. I make every allowance for that. You just need to rest; you will see things more clearly when you are recovered." He turned to mama. "Miriam see that she rests in her room until she is better."

"Papa I'm not ill-"

"I never said you were my dear. I understand these female things can addle the brain. You will be better directly, I am sure. You just need rest. Go to your room."

"Papa-"

"Go to your room Bethany or I will be forced to carry you there and make you stay!" His colour rose alarmingly again.

"Papa-!"

"Right-" he grabbed her arm and marched her out of the parlour and up the stairs. His grip was tight but not bruisingly so.

"Hiram!" Mama trailed them.

Opening her bedroom, he pushed her through the door gently, and shut it firmly. Beth heard the key turn in the lock.

"You will stay there until you come to your senses!" His implacable voice came through the door. Beth slumped against it, tears sheeting down her cheeks.

"Mama! Mama! Don't let him do this!"

She heard her mother's voice fading as she moved away. "Hiram! Hiram!"

Half an hour after climbing over the balcony, Beth entered the courtyard of the George and Blue Boar Coaching Inn with some trepidation. The journey on foot to this hostelry had all her senses on high alert. Every person she passed seemed a potential threat and her nerves were raw already. She was not, she reflected miserably, cut out for this sort of thing. Her sister Genevra would not turn a hair in like circumstances, but then Genevra was the bravest and most competent person she knew.

Thoughts of Genevra stiffened her backbone. She would have gone to her rather than Aunt Maddie, but she knew their stepfather would just drag her back home from Genevra's, it was too close. He had made no secret of his opinion of Genevra's ability to look after herself let alone anyone else, he would never let her stay with Genevra.

And his point about her being a burden to Mary had cut her to the quick. Besides Mary was by far too sweet to resist Papa, she would never stand up to him as Genevra did. If she could reach Aunt Maddie in Bath, it was too far away for him to reach her without a lot of botheration, and she suspected he wouldn't go to the effort. She hoped he wouldn't.

She looked around the courtyard, lit by lamps hung on poles, it was busy wit h men, horses and carriages, none of which appeared to be the stagecoach. Was she at the wrong Inn? No, she was sure this was the inn the stage left from, but at what time? She approached the entrance, ignoring the stares of the men and their lewd comments, though they made her blush and cringe.

The men at the brewery didn't treat her that way. Having grown up in a brewer's yard she had thought she was at home around men. They were a bit rough round the edges but always treated her politely and with respect. Like Joe, and his boys who had gone to work for Genevra as her tapster when Jacob died. Occasionally she caught snatches of bawdy talk, but they always stopped when they saw her, which was a bit frustrating really. She would like to have heard more.

Inside the entrance, she approached the desk where a man in a buckskin waistcoat sat reading a paper. He didn't look up. She fiddled with her valise and then cleared her throat. Finally, when these elicited no response, she said a little acerbically, "Could you tell me when the stagecoach for Bath is due?"

"You missed it love," he said turning a page of the large broadsheet.

"Oh!" Daunted she said. "When is the next one due?"

"Four o'clock tomorrow, like it always is." He looked up then as her knees went weak with disappointment.

What was she going to do until four o'clock tomorrow? This was not going to plan at all! They would notice she was missing long be fore that and start looking for her.

"Do you want to buy a ticket?" he asked, looking her up and down as if assessing if she could afford the fare.

She lifted her chin and nodded. If she bought the ticket she was committed.

"That'll be one pound twenty-five pence love," he said reaching under the counter for a ticket book.

"One pound twenty-"

"Yes, and you need to tip the driver and the guard so mind you have enough for that as well as a meal while you're on the road. It will take you forty-eight hours to get to Bath, if the roads are clear." He stopped as a loud crack of thunder sounded followed by the splash of sudden rain pounding on the pavement. "Which by the sound of it they won't be." He added.

She swallowed and dug in her purse for the money. She had two pounds and a few pence in her reticule. It had seemed sufficient funds for her journey when she came up with this mad scheme in the safety of her bedchamber. Faced with the realities of daily expenses she realized she may have underestimated the costs involved. Handing over the requisite amount she took the ticket proffered and stuffed it in her reticule.

"How much to stay here for the night?" she asked.

"One pound two shillings including breakfast," he said.

She swallowed again, fighting back the tears that sprang to her eyes. "Th at is too expensive. Do you have anything cheaper?"

He ran his eyes over her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. "That depends."

"On what?" she asked, her heart thudding.

He came round the counter and approached her. Standing close to her, he bent and whispered in her ear, "If you choose to warm my bed for the night you can stay free."

She stiffened in horror and recoiled. "No!" She stared at him and as he reached to grab her arm, she turned and bolted out the door through the courtyard and into the street.

The rain was coming down in sheets and had doused the streetlamps, so everything was dark and wet. Sobbing with shock, she ran along the street, heedless of her direction, only wanting to get away from the George and Blue Boar as quickly as she could. The pavement was uneven and the drains awash with water. Her boots and skirts were sodden in moments, and her valise banged against her legs as she ran.

A stitch in her side brought her to a standstill, whimpering with pain and gasping for breath. Her heartbeat wildly out of rhythm, and for a moment of panic she feared she would expire on the spot, that weak organ giving out as she had been repeatedly warned it would.

She had come to a halt near the entrance to another Inn, the Red Lion. Its mullioned widows glowed with a welcoming light, and she stumbled towards the entrance and entered the building to be engulfed in a warm fug of malt and hops. To the daughter of a brewer, such smells were commonplace and comforting. With them came the sounds of convivial conversation and the smell of roasting meat, which made her mouth water. It had been an age since dinner.

The Inn was lined with dark wood and the tapster stood behind the counter serving pots of porter. She approached the counter and waited for the tapster to notice her. Eventually he moved in her direction and asked what he could do for her.

"Do you have a room available for the night?" She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Aye but you'll have to share."

"With- with a lady?" she asked.

He shook his head.

She backed away and said hastily. "Thank you, no!" and bolted out into the street again. She tried three more hostelries with similar results. Either the tariff was too high, or she had to share, and it seemed there were no single ladies staying in any of the Inns she ventured into.

The rain was still torrential, and she was soaked to the skin when she was assailed by the most heavenly scent of pie emanating from the doorway of yet another Inn. This one was called the Dagger. Drawn forward on the smell, she caught the door before it could close and ventured within.

Behind the counter was a red cheeked woman of generous proportions conversing with several men to whom she was dispensing pots of porter. Relief at the sight of a woman, gave her strength and she approached her with a tremulous smile.

Spying her, the woman smiled and leaned over the counter. "Good evenin' dearie what can I get ye? "

Beth nodded at the pies lined up on the counter on cooling racks. "Could I have one of you pies please? They smell heavenly."

"O course you can, dearie. Best pies in Lunnon we ‘ave. That'll be four pence." she held out her hand and Beth handed over the money. The woman slipped it into her pocket and said, "Let me fetch a plate for ye." she turned away and Beth glanced round the Tavern idly. There were several tables scattered round the room at which men sat enjoying their porters and a meal. She was about to turn back to the counter when her eyes snagged on a familiar balding head.

Cold horror trickled down her spine. It couldn't be! But it was. Josiah Neeps chose just that moment to look up from his plate and stare straight at her. She had pushed her hood back from her face, so there was nowhere to hide. She knew the moment he recognised her.

He rose from his seat just as she let out a squeak of horror, and picking up her valise, she bolted out the door into the rain. She glanced back over her shoulder to the sight of Neeps silhouetted in the doorway. He hesitated as if thinking twice about venturing out into the weather, but then seeing her he stepped out, giving chase.

Beth turned and ran, clutching the valise to her chest and fleeing down the street. Crossing to the other side, she darted down a side street and kept running. Turning a corner, she looked back and saw him closing on her. With a whimper of terror, she ran into the alley, almost tripping over her sodden skirts.

She dodged into another, even narrower alley, and came to a halt because it was so dark, she couldn't see a thing. She leaned against the wall panting and trying to listen for pursuit over the thudding in her ears, her gasping breath and the drumming of rain on the pavement and rooves. She waited for what seemed like an eternity until her limbs were so stiff with cold and terror, she had difficulty moving.

Venturing out of the dark alley, she looked for any sign of Neeps and found none. He must have given up. Relief made her knees sag, and she leaned against the wall while tears ran down her cheeks.

Swallowing she straightened and continued down the street looking for somewhere, anywhere to get out of the relentless rain.

Finally, she spied a porch that seemed to offer some shelter. It was somewhat malodorous, but she was past caring. Venturing into it, she leaned against the wall and slowly sank down until she was sitting with her legs drawn up and the wall at her back. She was exhausted and soaked through.

She closed her eyes, telling herself she would just rest awhile and then resume her search for somewhere to stay. With her hand resting on her valise, fatigue overcame her discomfort and she slipped into a fitful doze.

She woke with a start as the valise slipped from under her hand. A skinny urchin, tugged at the valise. Grabbing the valise with a squeak of indignation, Beth tugged back.

"That is mine!" she scolded, batting at the child, who spat at her and uttered a string of obscenities.

"Get off!" Beth pushed to her feet and kicked out at the thief. The child scrabbled at her gown and Beth heard the fabric tear . Getting a better grip on the valise she swung it at the child and the skinny creature backed off and ran.

Horrified at her own behaviour, Beth sank back sobbing. The rain appeared to have eased a bit, so she rose and clutching the valise to her chest, she tried to retrace her steps to find her way back to High Holborn.

She had been walking for an age when she emerged, not on High Holborn, but a piazza filled with people.

Covent Garden! The theatre performance had finished, and the piazza was thronged with theatre goers jostling to reach their carriages or strolling away to eat a late supper at one of the many eating houses on offer.

While most of the nobility had fled London's summer heat, the rest of London was still in residence and taking advantage of the lack of nobs to enjoy the amenities of Covent Garden. Beth was horribly conscious of her disreputable appearance, compared to the theatre patrons dressed in their Sunday best for a night on the town. Shrinking back into the shadows, she watched with envy the carefree persons strolling by, laughing and talking.

A flower seller approached a gentleman and offered him a flower for his lady. The man good-naturedly bought the bloom and offered it to his companion, who smiled and accepted it, the look that passed between the two, smote Beth to the heart with a stab of jealousy.

How much she longed for a gentleman to look at her that way, as if she was his most precious delight. Instead of with the slimy, covetous, licentiousness of Neeps and th e man with the buckskin waistcoat. She swallowed and sighed. Perhaps if she could get to Bath and Great Aunt Maddie, she would have a chance of meeting a nice gentleman who wouldn't mind that she might not live past her twenty-fifth birthday. She shook her head. But would it be fair to marry at all, knowing that she carried a time bomb in her chest that could detonate at any moment, that she would almost certainly not survive childbirth should she fall pregnant...

She pushed the gloomy thoughts aside and cast about for a plan. Perhaps there was somewhere around here she could find shelter for the night? Food smells assailed her and made her stomach grumble, she was famished, cold and wet. Yet despite that, she didn't regret this adventure. Anything was better than being forced to marry creepy Neeps or spend her remaining few years under her stepfather's rule. A useless, unwanted daughter.

"Excuse me my dear," a soft voice spoke to her left, making Beth start and turn, clutching the valise protectively to her chest. A woman stood there, dressed in a blue redingote and bonnet and carrying an umbrella. "Do you need help?" she asked gently.

Beth swallowed. The woman smiled at her and held out a hand.

"I need somewhere to stay, just for the night." Beth said. "I can pay, a little, not a lot."

The woman nodded. "My name is Mrs Cummings. There is somewhere you can stay for the night, a boarding house for young women. Come with me."

"Where is it?" Beth looked around .

"This way my dear, just round the corner." Mrs Cummings moved, and Beth followed. A boarding house for women sounded safer than an Inn full of men .

"How much will it cost?" Beth caught up with her.

"Oh, you won't need to pay, my dear. The girls perform a trifling service for their board. It will be one you will find well within your capabilities."

"What service?" Beth transferred the valise to her other hand, skipping to keep up with Mrs Cummings brisk pace. They had turned off the piazza into a side street. The lamps had been relit and the houses looked respectable enough.

"Well, you look like a well brought up girl, I'm sure you have many skills," said Mrs Cummings with a smile.

"I can sew and draw and play the pianoforte. But my voice is only passable," said Beth, listing her accomplishments. "I can be useful in the kitchen also," she added. "I don't mind doing tasks, I'll be happy to do whatever needs doing."

Mrs Cummings nodded, ascending the steps of a narrow three-story house and knocked discreetly. A man in black opened the door. And held it for her with a bow.

"Here we are my dear come in, I'll introduce you to Mrs Temple, this is her house, she will show you to your room. I expect you'll be glad of some supper too?"

"Oh, yes please, I'm famished!" said Beth with relief, following her over the doorstep. The house was elegantly furnished and Beth at once felt the panic that had been plaguing her since she stepped off her bedroom balcony subsid e. The man shut the door behind her quietly.

"Mrs Temple!" Mrs Cummings addressed an elegantly dressed woman who appeared at the foot of the stairs. "I've brought you another girl in need of assistance. What is your name my dear?"

"Beth. Bethany Whittaker."

"Welcome Miss Whittaker. It is Miss, isn't it?" asked Mrs Temple.

"Yes ma'am, I am travelling to Bath to visit my Great Aunt, but I missed the stage and I need a place to stay for the night," Beth bobbed a curtsy to Mrs Temple.

"I see, how vexing for you. Do come in, I see you have run afoul of the weather." A maid appeared. "Betsy take Miss Whittaker up to room three and see that she has some supper and a clean night robe."

"Yes Mrs Temple." Betsy nodded in Beth's direction and Beth hesitated. Turning to Mrs Cummings she said, "thank you so much."

"Nonsense child, go along with Betsy, Mrs Temple and I are old friends we will have a comfortable cose while you get your rest. Good night."

Beth curtsied again and followed Betsy up the stairs. The room was a fine one with a fire in the grate and a big bed with the coverlet turned down invitingly.

The maid helped her disrobe and provided her with a fine lawn night gown. Supper appeared on a tray before she left, and Betsy brought it in for her and set it on the table.

"Will there be anything else Miss?"

"No, thank you this is delightful, do thank Mrs Temple for me. And-" Beth he sitated. "What service will I need to perform in return for all of this?"

Betsy's lips twitched." I couldn't say Miss, but I'm sure Mrs Temple will enlighten you tomorrow."

Beth sighed. It seemed a little odd, but she was too tired and too grateful to be out of the cold and away from the lewd gaze of men to worry about it now, and the food on the tray smelled delicious.

Betsy left and shut the door with a click behind her. Beth sat down at the table and lifted the cover off the food tray and groaned with delight at the sight of a bowl of rich meaty stew, soft bread and butter and a slice of hot apple pie. All accompanied by a glass of dark fruity wine.

Having eaten her fill, Beth crawled between the sheets of the vast and very comfortable bed and reflected dozily that perhaps her adventure had turned out better after all.