Ragged Rose

‘I ain’t afraid of hard work.’ Maisie perched on the edge of a chair. ‘I’m used to scrubbing floors and washing dishes.’

‘That’s as maybe, but we have all those jobs in hand. I think I will put you in charge of Spartacus. He’s a grumpy old chap and most of my girls are scared of him, and Cook chases him with a carving knife when he steals food from the larder. It will be your job to take care of him and make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.’

Maisie put her head on one side, eyeing Polly like an inquisitive robin. ‘If he’s such a pest why do you keep him?’

‘Because he’s a brilliant mouser and rat catcher. He earns his living, but he has to be kept in order. Can you do that? Speak up if it’s too much for you.’

‘It ain’t much of a job. I’d say it was more a pleasure. I’ll do it and more.’

Polly held out her hand. ‘Then we have a deal.’

Rose was smiling as she left the house. Aunt Polly had hit on the one thing that would make it easier for Maisie to settle into her new home. Coming as she did from a reasonably close family, Rose could only imagine what it must be like to be raised in an institution. She quickened her pace; this was the day when she and Cora visited the sick and the needy in the parish, taking jars of calf’s-foot jelly and beef tea. If Mrs Blunt was feeling particularly generous she would add some of her small sweet cakes, which she said would tempt the most jaded appetite. Rose took charge of these in case Cora was tempted to sample a few during the long walk; a habit that had endured since childhood when their mother had been well enough to undertake parish duties.

She arrived home to find Cora alone in the dining room, yawning and seemingly half-asleep over a bowl of porridge.

‘Have you seen Pa this morning?’ Rose asked.

‘He was called out to baptise a newborn that wasn’t expected to live,’ Cora said sleepily.

Rose reached for the coffee pot and filled a cup, adding a dash of milk and a lump of sugar. The walk in the chill of the early morning had sharpened her appetite, and, even though she had eaten earlier, she buttered a slice of toast. ‘Is Ma up yet?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Cora pushed her plate away. ‘Mrs Blunt said you’d taken Maisie to Aunt Polly.’

‘I did and you’ll never guess what happened.’ Rose bit into the toast, chewed and swallowed. She reached for the raspberry jam and spooned some on the side of her plate.

‘I’m too tired to work out a conundrum, Rosie. I couldn’t sleep for thinking of Gerard.’

Rose paused with the toast halfway to her lips. ‘Gerard? Who is he?’

‘The handsome young man I was talking to at Fancello’s last night. Didn’t you see him?’

‘I saw dozens of men, but the only one I remember was the dear old colonel. He was such a gentleman.’

Cora sighed. ‘Gerard is a gentleman. He’s the Honourable Gerard Barclay, and he’s the younger son of Lord Barclay.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Cora, show a little sense,’ Rose said crossly.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Cora’s lips formed a sulky pout. ‘You’re just jealous.’

‘Don’t be silly. I can’t even remember what he looked like, but he’ll be a toff on the lookout for a pretty girl to flirt and amuse himself with.’

‘You don’t know that. He was perfectly charming.’

‘I’m sure he was, but if he’s there tonight you must ignore him. Don’t allow yourself to be taken in. I don’t know anything about him or his family, but what I do know is that they don’t mix with the likes of us.’

‘We’re perfectly respectable girls. Pa is a clergyman. He speaks directly to God.’

Rose choked on a mouthful of coffee, unable to stifle a chuckle. ‘Tell that to Lord Barclay and note his reaction. I’m sorry, Corrie dear, but you know the rules. We mustn’t get involved with anyone at Fancello’s. We have to carry on until we have enough money to hire a lawyer.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten. How could I forget? But I think sometimes you get carried away with being on the stage. I think you enjoy it.’

‘I do. I admit that, and you do too, if you’re being honest. I love the excitement and the applause, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to perform at the Grecian or the Pavilion, but that’s not going to happen.’ Rose finished her slice of toast and drained her cup. ‘Come on, Corrie. We’ve got to do our duty in the parish, but tonight we can put on our greasepaint and our costumes and make believe. Gerard comes into that category, and you must keep him there. He mustn’t find out who you are.’

Cora rose from her seat. ‘I know, and yes, you’re right.’

‘I understand it’s hard, Cora,’ Rosa said gently, ‘but we’re doing well so far.’ She stood up, brushing crumbs from her skirt. ‘I’m going to see if Mrs Blunt has finished packing the baskets and then we’ll set off. At least it’s not raining and the sun is trying to come out, so maybe it will be a nice day after all.’

Despite her cheerful words Rose could not help feeling anxious as she made her way to the kitchen. Cora was sweet-natured and affectionate, and she always saw the best in people. Gerard Barclay had obviously made a deep impression on her and it could prove disastrous. Rose loved her sister and she was determined to protect her, but they must not lose sight of their goal. She opened the kitchen door and was greeted by a flustered Mrs Blunt.

‘Thank goodness you came. There’s a messenger at the back door who refuses to go away unless he speaks to you in person. I tried to make him see sense, but he says he’ll stand there all day if necessary.’

‘Really? I don’t know who that could be.’ Rose frowned, thinking hard. ‘I’ll go and see what he wants.’

Chapter Three (#u01cc978d-8111-5418-9d9b-3d6731c642a8)

Rose hurried through the scullery, wondering why a messenger would choose the back door over the front entrance. It seemed unusual for one of her father’s flock to make a mystery of what would probably turn out to be a request to visit the dying or a plea for help. She opened the door and came face to face with a scruffy youth whose ragged clothes might have fitted him once, but were now too short in the arms, and his trouser legs ended an inch or so above his shabby boots where the uppers had come away from the soles, exposing muddy toes.

‘Can I help you?’ she asked warily.

‘I got a message for you, miss.’ The boy glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting to see spies lurking in the shrubbery.

‘Well, what is it?’

‘A certain gent what’s been doing work for a professional person in Cornwall has asked to see you, miss. It’s urgent.’

‘I’m not sure I understand,’ Rose said carefully. ‘You’ll need to explain further.’

The boy snatched off his battered cap exposing a mass of wildly curling red hair. ‘The gent what I speak of will be in The Eagle at noon. He begs you to attend, miss. He says it’s of the utmost importance.’

‘Has this man a name?’

‘He give me tuppence to keep mum. Will you come, miss? I’ll wait for you on the corner and take you there safe. You won’t come to no harm when you’re in the company of Bobby Lee.’

Rose thought quickly. If she managed to persuade Cora to hurry they might be able to do the rounds before midday, or at least they could visit the most pressing cases, although what Pa would say if he knew she was about to venture into a public house was something she did not choose to dwell upon. She had probably damned her eternal soul for ever by exhibiting herself on stage, so one more transgression was unlikely to make any difference. She nodded. ‘All right, Bobby. I’ll meet you on the corner just before noon.’ She closed the door hastily and returned to the kitchen.

‘It was nothing,’ she said airily. ‘Just a youth desperate to find work. I sent him on his way.’

‘That’s right,’ Mrs Blunt said with a nod of approval. ‘He was probably hoping to cadge food, but these people shouldn’t be encouraged. There’s plenty of work out there for those who are willing to look hard enough for gainful employment.’ She sniffed and resumed kneading the bread dough as if she were beating it into submission.

‘I’m off then. Will you tell Mama that I’ll see her this afternoon? I didn’t want to disturb her this early in the morning.’ Rose picked up the heavy baskets and went to find her sister.

She discovered Cora preening herself in the hall mirror. ‘You look very pretty as always, Corrie, but I doubt if we’ll meet the Honourable Gerard Barclay where we’re going this morning.’

‘You are such a tease, Rose. Just wait until you meet the man of your dreams, although I can’t imagine who could live up to your ideals. He would have to be a cross between Richard the Lionheart and Lord Byron.’

‘What an imagination you have, to be sure,’ Rose said, laughing at the vision Cora’s words had conjured up in her mind. ‘But I have to admit that it would be an interesting combination. Anyway, we’d best hurry or we’ll never get done.’

All that morning, while handing out sympathy and nourishment to poor parishioners, Rose found it hard to concentrate on the task in hand. She let Cora do the talking, but that was not unusual as Cora had a way with people, especially those who were sick or aged. Rose was content to offer help, when required to do so, and give practical advice, should it be requested, otherwise she stood back and allowed her sister to shine. Everyone said that Miss Cora Perkins was a saint; Mrs Blunt had told Rose so with a smug smile, which confirmed Rose’s long-held suspicion that their housekeeper was also one of Cora’s many admirers. But jealousy had never been one of Rose’s failings, and she could quite see why her sister won hearts and minds. Cora was an angel whose only failing was vanity, although Rose considered this to be perfectly justified in someone who had the delicate beauty of a snowdrop, and a smile that would melt the hardest of hearts. Rose was well aware of her own worth, and if she were not quite as lovely as her sister, she knew that she had a quick mind and a ready wit. Her looks, as she had often been told, were striking and she had inherited the dark auburn hair and green eyes from her father’s side of the family. It was her brother, however, to whom she was especially close. When they were children she and Billy had often been mistaken for twins, and Rose felt his disgrace now as deeply as if it were her own. She missed him more than she could say, and she would do anything to bring her brother home, absolutely anything.