The Passionate Friends

Judith gave him a grateful look. Perhaps he would be kind. It was fortunate that she could not read his mind. The Reverend Truscott knew an enemy when he met one, and Prudence, Lady Wentworth, had left him in no doubt of her own opinion.

He’d seen her look of disgust as he moved about among his congregation, fawning on the women, and flattering the men. She had surprised him once, when he’d cornered one of his young parishioners beside the vestry. He’d gone too far on that occasion, and the girl was looking distressed.

Her ladyship had not addressed him, but her dagger-glance was enough to persuade him to hurry away, leaving the girl to rearrange her bodice as best she could.

Mrs Peregrine was quite another matter. She was a beauty, that one, and he’d sensed the fire beneath the Madonna-like appearance. She hated and despised him. That much was clear. He could not mistake the expression in her huge, dark eyes, but her dislike only served to whet his appetite. He’d conquered such women before, with his talk of love and salvation. It would be a pleasure to add her to his list of victims.

Looking up, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, and felt his usual sense of satisfaction. His looks were the only thing for which he had to thank his actress mother and his unknown father.

Was he growing too gaunt? He thought not. His tall, spare figure and the dark head with the deep-set eyes and narrow jaw had just a touch of the fanatic. It was no bad thing. A certain air of the vulpine had served him well in his chosen profession. Who could resist him when he thundered forth his message from the pulpit?

He sensed that Judith was watching him.

“Forgive me, my dear,” he said easily. “I should not have come to you looking as I do. My duties with parishioners have kept me out all day. You must think me sadly dishevelled, but I could not resist the temptation to call upon you.”

“Judith thinks nothing of the kind,” Mrs Aveton interposed. “It is good of you to call again, when this foolish girl was not here to greet you earlier in the day.”

“Perhaps she believes that absence makes the heart grow fonder,” the preacher chuckled. With many protestations of devotion he took his leave of them.

“You had best get on with the invitations, Judith. There is little time to spare before your marriage, and I suppose we must do something about your trousseau. Tomorrow we had best go into Bond Street.”

Judith nodded her agreement.

However, on the following day, her stepmother lost all patience with her lack of interest in the garments offered for her inspection.

“Do pay attention!” she cried sharply. “Nothing will make you into a beauty, but you owe it to your husband to appear respectable.”

“Miss has a perfect figure,” the modiste encouraged. “She would look well in any of these wedding gowns.”

“Hold your tongue!” Mrs Aveton glared at her. Her own daughters were both short and dumpy. “I will decide upon a suitable garment.” She settled upon a dull lavender which did nothing for Judith’s colouring.

“This will do! And now I have the headache, thanks to your stupidity. The rest of your things you may choose for yourself whenever you wish. I have no time to accompany you again.”

Judith said nothing, though she felt relieved. The excuse to complete her shopping alone would get her out of the house, and away from the constant carping and criticism. She must take her maid, of course, but the girl was her only friend within the household, and she understood her quiet mistress well.

This fact had not escaped Mrs Averton’s notice. She had already spoken to the Reverend Truscott on the subject.

On the following day she confronted Judith.

“You are grown too familiar with that girl,” she said. “You had best make it clear that she should be looking for another position after you are married. Your husband will not care to find you being friendly with a servant.”

“I had hoped to take her with me. She is the daughter of my father’s housekeeper, and I’ve known her all my life.”

“Your father has been dead these many years. I should have dismissed her long ago.”

A lump came into Judith’s throat, but she did not argue further. Her husband-to-be might view the girl more kindly.

Mrs Aveton glanced through the window. “It may be coming on to rain,” she said. “I shall need the carriage myself this morning. You may walk to Bond Street. There is plenty of shelter on the way.”

Judith didn’t care if it poured. She could use a shower as an excuse to stay out for as long as possible. She left the house as quickly as possible, and walked along the street with Bessie beside her.

“Miss Judith, it’s spitting already. You’ll get drenched. Must you go out today?”

“I think so, Bessie. Have you got the list?”

“It’s in my pocket, miss, but it’s coming on heavier than ever. Won’t you step into this doorway?”

The wind was already sweeping the rain into their faces, and both girls ran for shelter. Half-blinded by the shower, Judith did not notice the hackney carriage until it stopped beside them. Then a strong hand gripped her elbow.

“Get in!” Dan said. “I want to talk to you.”

Chapter Two

Judith was too startled to do other than obey him. It was only when she was seated in a corner of the carriage that she realised the folly of her action.

She glanced up, a protest ready on her lips, but Dan was smiling at Bessie.

“I hope I see you well,” he said kindly. “It’s Bessie, isn’t it? Do you remember me?”

“You haven’t changed, Mr Dan. I’d know you anywhere.”

He grinned at that. “Once seen, never forgotten? It’s my carroty top that gives me away.”

“Dan, please! I’m sorry, but we have so much to do this morning. I am to go to Bond Street. Bessie has a list…” Judith felt that she was babbling inanities. What did her shopping matter?

“Then Bessie can do your shopping for you. Your credit is good, I take it? She may order your things to be delivered…”

“No, she can’t! I mean, that would not do at all. I am to choose…at least…” Her voice tailed away.

“Bessie, will you do this for us? I must speak to your mistress.”

“No, you must not! Bessie, I forbid you…”

Bessie took not the slightest notice of her pleas. She was beaming at Dan, who had always been a favourite with her.

“I’ll be happy to do it, Mr Dan.”

“Then we’ll pick you up on the corner of Piccadilly. Shall we say in two hours’ time?”

“Dan, I can’t! Please set us down. We shall be missed, and then there will be trouble.”

“Nonsense! Prudence informs me that shopping takes an age. Besides, I can’t wait outside your door indefinitely, hoping to catch you on your own.”

“We might have met again in Mount Street,” she protested.

Dan gave her a quizzical look. “Yesterday I had the impression that you didn’t plan to visit your friends for some little time.”

They had reached Bond Street, and he rapped on the roof of the carriage to stop the driver. Bessie sprang down, but when Judith tried to follow her he barred the way.

“Hear me out!” he begged. “It is little enough to ask of you.”

Sensing his determination, Judith sank back into the corner. She had no wish to create a scene in public, and if he followed them someone of her acquaintance might see them together, and draw the wrong conclusions.

“This is folly!” she told him quietly. “You should not have sought me out.”

“Folly?” Dan’s smile vanished. “What of your own? What do you know of the man you plan to marry?”

Judith turned her face away. “He has been kind to me, and he stands up to Mrs Aveton. In his presence she is not so cruel.”

“And that is enough for you? You have not asked yourself why they deal so well together? What a pair! The man is a monster, Judith! He is a charlatan…a womaniser—”

“Stop!” Judith’s nerves were at breaking point. “You must not…you have no right to say such things to me…”

“Long ago I thought I had a right to tell you all that was in my heart. That is past, I know. I can’t deny that our feelings for each other must have changed, but I may still stand your friend, I hope?”

“You have a strange way of showing it. Did Prudence and Elizabeth send you to me? I may tell you that I don’t care to have my affairs discussed behind my back.”

“No one sent me. I came of my own accord. They spoke of you, of course…”

“And obviously of Mr Truscott too. They are both prejudiced against him, but why, I can’t imagine.”

“Perhaps they see another side to his character. You meet him at his best, but how long will that last? If you become his wife you will be powerless against him.”

“Dan, you are making him out to be an ogre. Oh, I know you mean it for the best, and I am grateful…”

“I don’t want your gratitude,” he muttered. “Like all your friends, I wish only for your happiness.”

“Then believe me, you must say no more. You are but recently returned to England. How can you judge a man of whom you have no knowledge?”

“I trust Prudence, and Elizabeth too. They love you dearly, Judith. Would they stand in the way of your happiness? Both of them have hearts of gold. Neither would be so set against this man without some sound basis for their feelings.”

“I have made my choice.” Her face was set.

“Have you? Or have others made it for you? Forgive me, I don’t mean to suggest that you are easily swayed. I know you better than that. You will always do what you think right.”

“Then why won’t you believe me?”

Dan leaned back and folded his arms. “You haven’t told me why you wish to marry Truscott. I am told that he is all the rage among the ton, but that won’t weigh with you, I know. To capture him might be a feather in some other woman’s cap, but not in yours.”

“At least you don’t insult me by suggesting it.”

“Kindness then, and protection from your stepmother? It seems poor enough reason to accept him.”

For once Judith lost her temper. “You don’t know what my life has been! How could you? It was bad enough before, but my uncle’s money has become a curse. You heard of my inheritance?”

Dan nodded.

“I thought I would go mad,” she told him simply. “I was allowed no rest until I agreed to try to break the trust. It couldn’t be done. Then matters grew much worse. Marriage seemed to be the only answer.”

Dan laid a sympathetic hand upon her own, but she snatched it away at once.

“I don’t want sympathy,” she cried in anguish. “That only makes things worse…”

“Oh, Judith, was there no one else? Someone who might have made you happy?”

Judith felt like screaming at him. Of course there was someone else. Why could he not see it? Her situation was so different now. Years ago, when they were both penniless they could have no hope of marriage. Now she could offer him her fortune. It was a vain hope. Knowing him as she did, the money would prove to be an even greater barrier, even if he loved her still.

He didn’t. Had he not mentioned that their feelings must have changed during their years of separation? His present concern stemmed only from the memory of past friendship, urged on, no doubt, by Prudence and Elizabeth, in spite of his denials.

She could not know of the discussion which had taken place the previous evening in the Wentworth home. In her forthright way, Prudence had tackled Dan outright, sweeping away his initial refusal to seek out Judith.

“Don’t try to gammon me,” she’d said. “I know that you still love her. You gave yourself away this afternoon. Will you stand by and let her throw herself away upon a man who will condemn her to a life of misery?”

“Pru, I can’t. She would see it as a piece of gross impertinence on my part, and she would be right.”

“Stuff and nonsense! I think at least that you should try to persuade her to reconsider. Elizabeth and I can do no good with her. She seems bent on self-destruction.”

“And you think that I will fare better?”

“She loves you, Dan. She always has. I know Judith well. Once given, her affections will not change. If you were to offer for her now, all might yet be well.”

She was dismayed to see the bitterness in his normally cheerful face.

“Would you have me add to my tarnished reputation? Must I be considered a fortune-hunter too?”

“So you will sacrifice your love for pride? I had thought better of you. Mrs Aveton’s evil words were forgotten long ago.”

“They would be recalled if I did as you suggest. Judith suffered enough before. This time I doubt if she could bear more slurs. I did not think her looking well at all.”

“She isn’t happy, Dan. At least see her. If nothing more you might persuade her to delay the ceremony. Truscott may yet betray himself.” Prudence rose to her feet, pressing her hands against her aching back, and Dan gave her an anxious look.

“You shall not worry,” he said. “It can’t be good for you, especially at this present time. I’ll do as you say if it will comfort you, though I think you are mistaken in what you say. Judith no longer cares for me.”

Prudence let that pass. No words of hers would convince him. Dan must find out for himself. She smiled at him in gratitude.

“I think I must be carrying twins,” she joked. “By the start of the seventh month I was not as large as this with my other children.”

“Then you must take extra care. Shall you stay in London for the birth?”

“I don’t know yet. It can be very hot and noisy in the summer months. Sebastian thinks that we should go down to Hallwood.” She reached out a hand to him. “Dearest Dan, I’ve missed you so. It is so good to have you home again. As for Judith, I knew that you wouldn’t fail me.”

“Don’t expect too much,” he warned. “My powers of persuasion aren’t as great as yours.”

He found that he was right. Judith would not be swayed.

“At least postpone the ceremony,” he urged. “It would give us time to make enquiries.”

Her voice grew cold. “Are you suggesting that you intend to spy on my betrothed?”

“Judith, the man appeared from nowhere. I can’t find a soul who knows anything of his background or his antecedents—” He stopped, and looked at her set face. “Forgive me! I, of all people, have no right to say such things. My own background is sneered at by the ton.”

Judith fired up at that. “I hope you are not suddenly ashamed of it. Your mother and father were good country folk, as Prudence and Sebastian soon discovered.” For the first time she gave him a faint smile. “Your skills must have come from somewhere…”

“Sadly, they haven’t yet made my fortune but, Judith, we were not discussing my affairs…”

“Believe me, I prefer that you say no more of mine. Dan, it must be late. Is it not time to pick up Bessie?”

“Not yet. We still have a few moments. Will you promise me one thing?”

“If I can.”

“Don’t cut yourself off from your friends for these next few weeks. Come to Mount Street. The change will do you good. It will be like old times.”

Her lips began to tremble. “I’m tired,” she said. “I can’t fight my friends as well as Mrs Aveton.”

“Then they shall say nothing to distress you. I’ll guarantee it. Do you promise?”

“I’ll try.” With an effort she regained a little of her self-control. “You’ve told me nothing of your own concerns. This voyage has been of some advantage to you?”

Wisely, Dan accepted the change of subject.

“I learned much about the operation of a sailing ship, and other vessels too, even to the handling of an outrigger canoe in the South Seas. All are designed to take advantage of certain conditions of wind and weather.”

“And your own designs? You were always inventing something.”

“I have a thick sheaf of them. Some I sent back to England for the attention of my Lords of the Admiralty, but I have heard nothing.”

“Wouldn’t the Earl of Brandon mention your work?” she suggested shyly. “If Lord Wentworth were to ask him…?”

“I don’t want patronage. My work must stand on its own merit, or not at all.”

“You’ll get there one day,” she encouraged. “You have plenty of time.”

“Have I?” His lip curled. “I am twenty-six already.”

“A very great age indeed,” she twinkled.

“Pitt was younger when he first became a Member of Parliament…”

Judith gave him a droll look. “I didn’t know that you had the ambition to become a politician.”

She’d hoped to cheer him, and was rewarded with a grin.

“I haven’t, and well you know it.”

Judith smiled back at him. “That’s a relief! I was beginning to tremble for the future of the country. Oh, there is Bessie! I must leave you now.”

“Not yet!” he begged. He tried to take her hand but she shook her head. With a sigh he stopped the coachman, and prepared to take up Bessie.

“We shall walk,” Judith told him hurriedly. “The rain has cleared—”

“I won’t hear of it. Get in, Bessie!” He rapped on the roof of the carriage to tell the man to drive on. As they entered the street where he had found them, Judith turned to him.

“Pray set us down here,” she said. “If I am seen in your company there may be trouble.”

When Dan returned to Mount Street it was to report the failure of his mission.

“Well, I, for one, will not give up,” Elizabeth cried at once. “Will Judith come to us today?”

“I doubt it. She fears you will return to the attack.” Dan’s smile robbed his words of all offence.

“And so I shall.”

“No, you will not, my darling.” Perry gave his wife an affectionate look. “Subtlety is needed here. You cannot gain your way with confrontation.”

His words brought a roar of laughter from each member of his family.

“Subtlety, Perry? Since when are you a master of the art?”

Perry took Sebastian’s teasing in good part.

“I can be devious when I choose,” he replied in airy tones. “I may surprise you yet.”

“You have already done so. I was never more astonished in my life. Tell me, how is this subtle approach to be accomplished?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I’ll think of something.”

“Perry, there is so little time.” Elizabeth’s eyes were anxious. “The days go by so quickly, and Judith’s wedding will be upon us before we know it.”

Sebastian’s eyes were resting upon his wife’s face, and when he began to speak he chose his words with care.

“Let us consider this matter sensibly. We have no proof that the Reverend Truscott is other than he claims to be.”

“We could find out,” Dan said quickly.

Sebastian held up a hand for silence. “Hear me out. Prudence and Elizabeth both dislike and distrust him. They may be right, but if they are mistaken I must point out to you that Judith’s happiness is at stake. Any interference on our part would be a serious matter.”

“Sebastian, we have no wish to injure her.” Prudence gave him a pitiful look.

“Dearest, I know that well enough, but Judith has had an unhappy time since her father died. We must be careful not to make things worse.”

“They would be much worse if she married that dreadful creature!” Elizabeth was unrepentant.

“Quiet! The oracle is speaking!” Perry laid a finger against his wife’s lips.

Sebastian laughed at that. “I’m no oracle, but we must do nothing foolish.”

“Then what can we do? She may be walking blindfold into a life of misery. I won’t stand by and let that happen.” Dan ran his fingers through his flaming hair. “I’ll abduct her first.”

“You will do no such thing!” Sebastian’s tone was cutting. “Would you expose her to scandal? Her life would be ruined; she would be cut by society, unable to see her friends and received by none. Let us hear no more of such nonsense.”

“There’s no need to cut up rough at Dan, old chap. What do you suggest?”

“There can be no harm in making a few enquiries. I’ll see what I can do.”

“And I can ask around,” Perry broke in cheerfully. “I ain’t much of a one for church-going, but I could mingle with the Reverend’s congregation and question a few people.”

“With your well-known subtlety?” His brother’s tone was ironic. “I can hear you now. Would it not be something on the following lines, ‘We think your preacher is a rogue. What do you know against him?’”

Even Perry was forced to join in the laughter.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he admitted. “I’d best leave it to you.”

“I think you had. It should not take above a day or two.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Elizabeth warned. “That snake will cover his tracks.”

“Yet even snakes may be trapped and destroyed, my dear.” With these words from Sebastian the rest of the company had to be content.

Unwittingly, Elizabeth had hit upon the truth, but the past life which the preacher had been at such pains to conceal was, at that moment, in danger of being revealed to the world.

Truscott had, that very morning, been approached by a filthy urchin in his own church.

“Out!” He’d eyed the ragged figure with distaste. The child was little better than a scarecrow. “You’ll get no charity here.”

“Don’t want none, mester. I been paid. I wuz to give you this.” The child held out a grimy scrap of paper, but his eyes were wary. He kept his distance, as if ready to dodge a blow.

“What’s it about?”

“Dunno. I was to fetch you with me.”

A discreet cough drew the preacher’s attention to a small group of ladies advancing down the nave towards him.

“My dear sir, do you never rest?” one of them asked tenderly. “We’d hoped that you’d take tea with us today. We are raising funds for the Foundling Hospital.”

“God bless you! Sadly, this little chap is in some kind of trouble.” The Reverend Truscott considered resting a benevolent hand upon the urchin’s spiky hair, but he thought better of it.

“You ain’t read the note,” the child accused.

“My little man, you have given me no time to do so.” With the eyes of the ladies upon him, he was forced to open the paper. Drat the child! Had they been alone he would have been well rewarded for his impertinence.

The words were ill-spelt, and formed in an illiterate hand, but the message was all too clear. As its full enormity sank into his consciousness the colour drained from his face. He swayed, and held himself upright only by clutching at the back of the nearest pew.

“Bad news? Mr Truscott, you must sit down. Let me get you a glass of water.”

He could have struck the speaker. What he needed at that moment was a glass of brandy. If only these ridiculous old biddies would go away! He raised a hand to cover his eyes.

“Thank you, pray don’t trouble yourself,” he murmured. “This is but a momentary faintness.”

“It is exhaustion, sir. You do too much. This child must not trouble you today.” She tried to shoo the boy away. “Your bride-to-be will scold you.”

“Let him be! The Lord will sustain me in his work. I will accompany the child. I fear it is to a deathbed.”

If only it were, he thought savagely. So many of his problems would be solved. With a brave smile he ushered the ladies from the church. Then he returned to the vestry to draw on a voluminous cloak, and cram a wide-brimmed hat low on his brow.

The boy’s eyes never left him. A child indeed! There was cynicism in that look, and a quick intelligence which, he knew well enough, stemmed from a life of survival on the streets.

He spared no sympathy for the lad. The strong survived, and the weak went under. He’d been lucky. No, that wasn’t true! Luck had played no part in his rise to fame. Say rather that a ruthless streak had helped him climb the ladder to success.

And was he to lose it now? The words of the message burned in his brain like letters of fire.

“‘My friend seen your notice in the paper, Charlie. Time yore pore old mother had a share. The boy will fetch you to me. Best come, or you’ll be sorry.’”

It was unsigned, but no signature was needed. The letter was authentic. Only his mother had ever called him Charlie.