Page 39 of To Dance with a Devil

The butler said nothing, and did not reprimand his staff, just turned his disdainful expression away from them, though he must have heard.

Agnes glared at them as Bonnie stiffened, but she knew better than to react, to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they’d hit their mark. So the two of them walked arm in arm, out of the front door and into the street. They carried on in silence for a while until Bonnie turned to her maid.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

Agnes smiled. She was a widow, her grief etched into a face that had seen life. A woman in her early forties, with greying hair swept back in a tidy bun, and kind eyes, Bonnie had been grateful for her steadfast support in the past weeks.

Employing Agnes Lacey had certainly been one of her better decisions, Bonnie reflected. During the brief interview when they’d met, Bonnie had told her, point blank, that she was unmarried and pregnant and, if that was too much for her to deal with, she’d find someone else. Agnes had just frowned for a moment and then shrugged. “I raised six brothers and sisters, helped Mama birth two of them. Reckon I can look after you, miss.”

And that had been that.

“She won’t cast you out,” Agnes said. “She’s a strong woman from what I can tell, for all everyone thinks her a featherbrain. Perhaps she’ll not like it, but she’ll make the best of it.”

Bonnie nodded and walked on. Not that she knew where they were going. Agnes didn’t ask her, just walked at her side, silent but reassuring, and Bonnie was thankful. Oh, how Jerome must be cursing himself. He must wish he’d never met her.

Her mind drifted back to that night, the night she’d cut off her hair and dressed as a young man. Goodness, what would his mother make of that? She felt the blush sear her cheeks as if she’d just confessed all. She pushed the thought aside and remembered the night instead, remembered demanding that Jerome undo the bindings she’d wrapped her breasts under, even though she’d known where it would lead. He’d tried to stop her, tried to tell her no, but she’d insisted, and then she’d led him on, practically demanding that he take her virginity. Her skin burned hotter with the shame of it and tears pricked at her eyes. She blinked hard, trying to clear them. They’d turned onto a busy street now, lined with shops, though she had no idea where they were.

All at once she was weary, weary and heartsick. She wanted to lie down in the dark and cry for every foolish thing she’d ever done, for the loss of everything she’d hoped for, yet surely she wasn’t so weak? She put up her chin, breathing in deeply, trying to calm herself but her mind was a muddle and she felt dizzy. Perhaps she ought to have eaten more, as Jerome had insisted.

She stopped, putting a hand to her head as it began to pound.

“Mrs Cadogan?” Agnes said, but then there was a shout and they both turned at a commotion further along the street.

“Stop, thief!” someone screamed, and suddenly everyone was jostling and pushing, and a boy shot out from the crowds, directly at them. He stumbled as he went, tripping over someone’s foot and barrelling straight into Bonnie. She gasped, her heel catching on the edge of the pavement. There was no time to right herself and suddenly she was falling backwards, and there were screams and shouts and the terrified shriek of horses, and then… nothing.

Chapter 15

Dear Sir,

I most sincerely beg your pardon for the lateness of this month’s rent, but I must ask if you could be so very kind as to give me a few more days…

― Excerpt of a letter from Miss Jemima Fernside to her landlord.

19th November 1814. St Clair’s London Residence, St James.

“Am I forgiven?”

Jerome stood staring at the tense figure standing by the window. His mother was still a beautiful woman, though her golden hair had faded a little. He felt, as he always felt, too inadequate to be her son. He held his breath as she turned her blue eyes upon him, considering.

“I have despaired of you these past years, Jerome,” she said, and Jerome swallowed, wishing he didn’t have to look into her eyes as she told him what a disappointment he was. “I believed you would never grow up, never find whatever it was you were looking for. When you began this association with Miss Campbell, I assumed it would be like all the others; that you would make a fool of yourself, and us, and Jasper would be obliged to pay vast sums of money to keep it all quiet and make the girl go away.”

“You’ll not make her go away, mother,” he said, unable to keep silent though he tried his best to moderate the fury in his voice. “I’m not a child, whatever you may think of my behaviour. She’s my wife and I love her. She’s more important to me than anything else. I’m going to be a father, and I would far rather that you welcome her and our child into this family, for it will hurt her as much as me if you do not. But I cannot force you. I can make my own choices, though, and in that case I will be obliged to leave and make my own way. I’ll not give her up, not for anything. No matter what you say or do.”

Jerome squared his shoulders, waiting for the onslaught, trying to prepare his heart for what must surely come, but his mother just sighed with annoyance.

“I don’t believe I’d finished,” she said tartly.

Jerome blushed. Few people saw this side of his mother. Most people saw the elegant, fashionable lady with a frivolous passion for frocks and gossip, a tinkling laugh that could still make men turn their heads, and an attention span that made her appear something of a hen-wit. Though Jerome had always felt he stood in Jasper’s shadow, everyone knew she adored her sons who—as far as they knew—could do no wrong. The truth was a little different. Although they had been allowed a great deal of freedom, likely a deal too much, their mother had always had a sixth sense when they were in any real trouble, and neither of them regarded one of her set downs as something to be shrugged off. Her opinion mattered to them, and knowing she was cross or disappointed always stung.

“I beg your pardon,” Jerome said, wishing he didn’t feel as if he was eight years old and had been caught stealing from the kitchens again.

“If you had been paying attention, instead of disregarding every word that I uttered, you might have realised I said, I believed you would never grow up, I assumed. Perhaps my command of the English language is not what it ought to be, for I was certain those were all past tense.” She glowered at him a little and then her expression softened. “Foolish boy,” she said, shaking her head. “You have changed, and why or how that happened is not entirely clear to me, but I think this young woman has had a hand in it. I could see how miserable you were once you parted, and I suspected then that this time was different, that you were different.”

Jerome blinked hard, relief making his emotions tumble about in his chest as he nodded.

“I am different, and she has changed me. I know you’d hoped that I might make a match with Lady Helena, but….”

His mother waved this away with a laugh. “Oh, perhaps, but only because I despaired of seeing you make another mistake. But, if you love Bonnie and she’s not just another infatuation, and she loves you, then there is no mistake. I am not such a snob as to put our illustrious family’s bloodline before my son’s happiness. Besides which, Jasper is the earl, and he’s married well, so you ought to have the freedom to do as you please. You have my blessing,” she said, smiling as Jerome felt all the tension leave his body in a rush.