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He might put her kindly aside, and tell her she was being silly, but then again, he might have ravished her right there in the parlor, and Averil wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be ravished. Well, not yet, anyway. Despite the definite attraction she felt for the earl, she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine one moment of passion would mean they’d live happily ever after. She had her mother as a warning, as well as the many women she met every day in the East End. Passion was one thing; love was quite another.
She glanced now at Gareth, but he seemed deep in his own thoughts, so she made her way toward the common room.
Violet was standing just outside the doorway, eavesdropping, her arms full of mended sheets. The girl looked worried. Whatever was happening inside the room, Violet wasn’t happy about it.
“Violet?”
Violet jumped nervously, and when she turned toward Averil her pretty face was wary. “Lady Averil. I-I was . . . I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Interrupt who?”
“Jackson. He’s talking to the women. He’s asking if anyone knows anything about the missing girl.”
“I see.” Averil didn’t think that was the whole truth. Why would Violet feel the need to stay outside the door listening when the subject concerned her as much as the others?
She moved closer to Violet, forcing her to meet her eyes. They were of a similar height, although Violet was an inch or so taller, and certainly more slender. “If you know anything about the missing girl, Violet, you can tell me. What if something bad were to happen to her? You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“I don’t know anything.” Violet stared straight into Averil’s eyes as she said it, her own pale blue ones defiant. “The others don’t talk to me, do they?”
“Oh? I thought you got on well with the other women? They look up to you, Violet. They see in you what they could become themselves.”
Violet’s eyes flickered for a moment, and Averil could have sworn she saw tears in them. She was just about to probe further when Jackson came out of the common room, interrupting them. Violet took a step backward and Averil saw real fear in her face. “I have to go,” she muttered, and clutching the folded sheets to her chest, she turned and hurried away.
Jackson seemed intent on following, barely giving Averil a glance, but she blocked his path. “Jackson, I’ve been looking for you. Have you been avoiding me?”
He stopped, and if he was annoyed at her he didn’t show it. His ugly face was a blank. “Why should I do that?”
“Perhaps because you ran off and left me?”
His mouth tightened but he didn’t rise to her bait. “I had me reasons.”
“What reason could there be for leaving me alone in the East End?”
No answer.
She sighed. “Is there any news about the missing woman?”
“These tarts,” he said, “they don’t know when they’re well off. She’ll turn up, but that don’t mean she’ll want to come back here. Better money to be had out there on the streets. She liked her gin, that one. She won’t want to give it up for all the doctor’s warnings.”
“I find that difficult to comprehend.”
Jackson gave her a scornful look. “That’s because you’re a lady. These are common trollops.”
“We don’t use that language here,” she said sharply.
Jackson just shrugged, and then his eyes turned sly. “His lordship came to tell me he’d be doing the looking for your sister now. As long as you’re happy with that, Lady Averil.”
“Why wouldn’t I be happy with that?” Averil asked, and then wished she hadn’t. It was exactly what Jackson was waiting for.
“There was talk . . .” He lowered his voice and took a step closer. “Talk that Lord Southbrook let his wife die. Didn’t call on the doctor when she needed one. She was an inconvenience, you see, and he wanted to get rid of her.”
Averil knew her cheeks were hot. “You’re repeating slanderous gossip, Jackson. It was you who left me outside The Tin Soldier, and Lord Southbrook who came to my rescue. I don’t think you can hold a candle to a man like him.”
The look he gave her sent a shiver through her. Her wretched temper had landed her in trouble again, and now her tongue had run away with her and Jackson, already a doubtful friend, was now most definitely her enemy.
She watched him walk away.
Averil felt troubled and concerned. What was going on here? Girls going missing, others too frightened to say anything, and Jackson up to no good. What was she to do? At least Gareth had more or less given her permission to speak to Lord Southbrook about the house on his estate.
