Page 5

He snorted and lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “What acquaintance?” he asked as if it was his perfect right to interrogate her.

Lizzie drew an indignant breath to let him have a piece of her mind before remembering that he had just saved her from a common street attacker. Swallowing her sharp retort, she answered, “Mrs. Louisa Napp,” instead. “She lives just around that corner in lodgings on the second floor.”

He followed the direction she pointed with his eyes, though he looked frankly suspicious. “And just how is it that you have acquaintance in the East End?”

“I visit her every Wednesday,” Lizzie flung at him in some defiance.

His frown cleared. “Oh,” he said dryly. “Good works.” She bristled at his tone but made no reply. “You’re hardly in a position now to give her charity,” he pointed out, rather cruelly to Lizzie’s mind.

“I was hoping she might be able to point me in the direction of employment,” Lizzie admitted with as much dignity as she could muster. “Mrs. Napp sews shirts to be sold on commercially. I have a neat hand at the needle myself and – ”

“You mean she sells to a slophouse?” Benedict cut in dryly. “It’s backbreaking labor and they barely make ends meet. Why else do you think she needs the aid of your church?”

Lizzie was uncomfortably aware he spoke nothing but the truth, but what other option did she have? “Mrs. Napp accepts apprentices and trains them up in her trade,” she said, thinking of the young girls who were sat around pale and pinched as they stitched up the garment pieces in Mrs. Napp’s chambers.

“For a price, I’ll wager,” he answered, stooping down to pick up her bag. When she held her hand out for it, he ignored it. “I’ll accompany you,” he said shortly.

“That’s really not necessary,” Lizzie replied without conviction. In truth, she would like nothing less than to be left alone at present. She fell in step beside him and steadfastly ignored the knowing look he cast her. They stepped around the fallen man and made their way towards the corner.

“Mrs. Napp is a widow and has to support five children,” Lizzie told him, rallying her spirits. “At least I do not have any dependents and must only feed and clothe myself.”

He inclined his head slightly as though conceding the truth of this before asking silkily, “What makes you think Mrs. Napp will stick her neck out to help you when doing so will only provoke her church benefactors?”

Lizzie hesitated, wondering how to admit that Mrs. Napp was not exactly a fan of her Aunt Hester. “Mrs. Napp and my aunt are not always in perfect accord with one another,” she admitted delicately.

Benedict smirked at her choice of words. “You mean she would not object to spitting in your aunt’s eye, if the opportunity arose.”

Lizzie winced. “Most likely not,” she confided. “Aunt Hester says Mrs. Napp is a low, vulgar creature and would be struck off the charity register if she had her way. She suspects Mrs. Napp takes a drop of gin when the opportunity arises and that – ” Lizzie broke off aghast at what she had been about to repeat.

“And that, what?”

“I – er, oh, I forget now,” Lizzie lied, casting about in confusion for something, anything else other than the awful thing she had been about to repeat. That her children did not all share the same father. She was talking too much. Why was she doing that? Likely her nerves were quite overset.

Benedict gave a short laugh. “There’s nothing so nasty as that which a narrow mind can conjure up,” he said softly.

Lizzie darted a surprised look at him. Did he think Aunt Hester was narrow-minded, then? Her heart was beating fast by the time they entered the narrow passageway and started the climb up the rickety staircase. What would she do if Mrs. Napp turned her away from the door? Even worse, what if she answered the door and someone else had been there before her to poison Mrs. Napp’s mind against her?

They reached the scratched, scruffy door, and Lizzie rapped upon it. “It’s Monday,” she said nervously. “So, she won’t be expecting my visit.”

They heard voices from within. “Susan, answer that door!” Mrs. Napp’s strident tones rang out. “Do stop your dallying!”

The door stepped open and six-year-old Susan stood bare-footed in the doorway. “Mam, it’s that Miss Anderson!” she bawled back over her shoulder.

“On a Monday?” replied Mrs. Napp. “Well, let her in! Don’t keep her stood out there in the draught.”

“Thank you,” Lizzie murmured as she stepped over the threshold. “Good morning, good morning,” she greeted the assembled company of young women who were sat around on the bare floorboards industriously sewing. There were only three chairs in the room. Mrs. Napp sat in one and her eldest daughter, Lucinda, on another. Seeing Lizzie had brought a guest with her, Lucinda rose from her seat and sank down between two of her younger sisters on the bare floorboards.

“Sit and welcome,” Mrs. Napp said, eyeing Benedict with interest. “I didn’t expect to see you till Wednesday. You’ve not got your cousin with you today, I see, nor that aunt of yours,” she added pursing her lips.

“This is Mr. Toomes,” Lizzie said with an awkward gesture toward him as she removed her bonnet and cloak. “He is betrothed to my cousin.” She sat in a chair which immediately pitched her forward. Looking down, she saw one leg was clearly shorter than the other. By the time she had righted herself, she found Benedict Toomes lolling back in his own chair with an easy athletic grace she could only envy. He looked entirely unruffled by the fact he had thrust himself into a roomful of strangers.

Lizzie smoothed her hair and took a deep breath. “I was hoping to ask your advice this morning and enquire about your terms for taking on apprentices,” she started rather breathlessly. “You see, my circumstances have changed, and I must now fend for myself and earn a living.”

Mrs. Napp drew in a sharp breath. “They’ve never tossed you out on your ear!” she exclaimed. “And them purporting to be fine Christian folk!”

Lizzie sent her a pained look. “I’m afraid there’s been a difference of opinion between myself and my family,” she said lamely.

The other woman looked at her hard a minute before sucking in her cheeks. “I don’t doubt you’ve got a neat hand with a needle, Miss Anderson,” she said shaking her head. “But if you’ll take my advice, you’ll seek employment elsewhere. We’re at it from eight in the morning till ten at night here, and it’s as much as I can do to keep body and soul together. A nicely spoken girl like you could get shop work if you put your mind to it. You got to have better prospects open to you than this life, I’m sure.”