Page 3 of Murder at Madame Chambon's
When Evelina tried to find him again so she could thank him properly, he’d gone.
“Miss!Are you all right?”Another team of rescuers, obviously from the nearby metropolis, swarmed over the wreckage and Evelina found herself covered in a blanket as they carried her towards a line-up of carriages parked at the top of the embankment.
She twisted her head, searching for the young man—the older of the two Williams.But now the muddy slope and mangled carriages were overrun by strangers.
“Miss, let me tend to that nasty cut upon your forehead.”They were motherly words and the soft hands of a woman who’d come to help were soothing.“Poor child, is someone looking for you?Let me clean you up so your loved ones can recognize you.Your poor mama, for a start, wouldn’t begin to know who you were.”
She was a farmer’s wife by the look of her, and she’d seated herself next to Evelina in one of the carriages, cleaning Evelina’s face as she spoke.
Evelina didn’t answer.Her mama wouldn’t know her, either way, for she’d not seen Evelina since her daughter was fourteen years old.
As for any other loved ones, that was why she’d come to London.
If not to love, then to establish a life.
The life she’d she’d grown up believing was her due.
The one in which she finally would be mistress of her own destiny and no longer beholden to the mother who had farmed her off to the nuns because she’d said Evelina’s wild and stubborn ways was the reason her papa had removed himself from the family home.
Chapter1
It was business as usual at the editorial offices.The once austere back room of London’s popular magazineManners and Moralshad been made more comfortable and in keeping with its new role: finding employment for the city’s less employable.
But Lily McTavish—or Lady Bradden as she was known in society—was far from happy.
“Why the long face, my darling?”her husband asked as he lounged against the doorframe, having just stepped out from his own office.“I thought you’d be thrilled at having secured places for three girls in the past fortnight.”
“But that’s out of twenty girls, Hamish.And I had to offer mighty fine inducements.”Lily leaned back in her chair and looked at him over her steepled fingers.
“Always so impatient,” he said, his tone fond.
“I think it’s reasonable to want to make up for lost time.”Lily didn’t usually dwell on the past.To her horror, a large tear trickled down her cheek which she dashed away, embarrassed and angry before she felt Hamish’s hand on her shoulder.
“You have every reason to feel that,” he said softly.“Two years stolen from you; spent in an insane asylum.But so much more than that when you consider what your late husband put you through.”
“This isn’t about me,” Lily said, refusing to allow her beloved husband to make her feel any better.“I got more compensation than I needed or deserved when I married you, Hamish.But now I want to do what I can for these poor unfortunate women who are condemned to poverty and … and selling their bodies through no fault of their own.It pains me that people are so unwilling to employ them and so quick to condemn.They know nothing—”
“Hush, my love.”Hamish stroked her hair.“Nor should you condemn my readers—and those who are merely seeking a ‘good’ girl to work for them—for their ignorance.Their lives are so cosseted and ordered.They will never understand life as you do.While it’s all very well to educate them, it will take time.Patience,” he added with a smile.
“It’s hard to have patience, Hamish, when your weekly article has sparked so much interest and women are coming here to seek a ‘reformed’ girl to work for them… but then they lose heart at the last moment.I have so many more girls seeking work than I do prospective employers.”
“I think you mean to say that my weekly article—which, of course, is inspired, and written, by you—has sparked controversy.”Hamish’s tone was wry.“My father is horrified.He says we are going to lose subscribers, but I would argue the opposite.Controversy galvanizes people into voicing their opinions, which stimulates discussion.It certainly is true that our new article a week on one of London’s unfortunate but deserving citizens is a grand way of getting people worked up.Now, that was an inspiration, Lily, my love.”
“You inspired me to do good, Hamish.But I am failing.”
“Nonsense.This is your third week of business.It takes time.”
“Madam.”The nervous clearing of a voice heralded Lizbeth’s frightened face as the little secretary put her head around the door.“There’s someone here to see you.It’s regarding the position of lady’s maid.”
Lily heaved in a breath as she put her hand up to her forehead.“Oh Hamish, I just don’t know that I can help these women as I had hoped.So many of them who have fallen into vice now think I can find them respectable employment when the reality, I’ve discovered is—”
“Madam, it’s a young lady who wishes to employ one of your girls.”
Excited, Lily gripped Hamish’s hand.
“I told you the tide would turn,” Hamish murmured, straightening.Smiling at the young girl who had, herself been a skivvy at Madame Chambon’s, one of London’s most notorious Houses of Assignation, before she’d been rescued by Lily, he said, “I’ll leave now, Miss Whiley, so you can show my wife’s new client through.Finding the right lady’s maid is a difficult enough business at the best of times.”
Certainly, securing a lady’s maid for the young woman seated across the desk from Lily several minutes later would not be easy, Lily soon realized.
