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“Don’t.”
She looked surprised, then crestfallen as she sat up. “Yer don’t like ‘em, m’Lord?”
“Sit up, Dorcas.”
A flash of fear crossed her face at his serious tone, and Silverton realized she might interpret his lack of interest for something more sinister. A cruel streak.
“I’m not here for you to pleasure me.”
Dorcas flashed a frightened look at the walls, as if they might have eyes. “Don’t matter wot yer want o’ me, or don’t, m’Lord, yous goin’ ter ‘ave ter pay, all the same.”
“I know that. Perhaps you’d care to accompany me on a walk.”
“Can’t do that, sir.”
“If that’s my pleasure, you’re paid to serve me.”
“Ain’t allowed ter leave the premises, m’Lord.”
“What, never? Surely you get a half day on a Sunday, Dorcas? Are you not free to meet whomever you choose on a Sunday?”
She toyed with the skirts of her gaudy primrose and lavender sarcenet gown, then rose and took a step forward as if she were curious or confused as to his motives. “Wot yer talkin’ ’bout, m’Lord? I ain’t neva leavin’ ‘ere ‘cept in a coffin.” She clapped her hand to her mouth and then said in a louder voice, “Let me give yer a good rub down, m’Lord. Take the tension from yer bones.” As she drew closer, she put her mouth to his ear. “I don’t know wot yer come ‘ere fer, m’Lord, if it ain’t ter get yer money’s worth out o’ wot I can give yer, but don’t talk ter me o‘ leavin’ this place cos it ain’t neva goin’ ter ’appen. ‘As someone ‘eard ‘bout the depraved depths I sunk to? Are yer ‘ere on their orders? If so, I won’t an’ can’t live wiv the shame, an’ I ain’t neva goin’ ter be redeemed. Hell is where I’m goin’ ter, an’ no mistake. ’Sides, I signed a contract. Ain’t no way I’ll pay me way out o’ that afore I’m already in me grave.” She thrust out her chest and drew in a shuddering sigh before adding in a more robust tone, tinged with resignation, “’Ere, m’Lord, yer must be ever so ‘ot in yer coat.”
Silverton gripped her wrists and she froze, staring into his face with sudden panic. “Please don’t ‘urt me, m’Lord.”
“Hurt you? Good lord, I’m not going to hurt you,” he responded, appalled. “Please, Dorcas, I want to help you. I’m here because a friend has asked me to help you.”
“A friend? I ain’t got no friends.” Terror welled in her eyes. “Me family...? Oh lordy, do tell me they know nothin’ ‘bout wot I’ve sunk to?” She tore out of his grasp and almost staggered to the window, whispering over her shoulder, “If yer ain’t here fer wot most gennulman want, then please let me be. I can’t talk ter yer like this, m’Lord. Mrs. Montgomery an’ ‘er son, they won’t like it. It’ll be bad fer me.”
Silverton advanced and put a hand on her shoulder. Gently, he turned her back to face him. “Please just come with me, Dorcas.” He tried to inject the necessary reassurance into his tone, but she was like a trembling rabbit, staring between him and the door as if she feared she’d be set upon by either.
“Can’t, m’Lord. Can’t ever,” she muttered. “Yer don’t undastand what yer suggestin’.”
“I want to help,” he said, pushing down his frustration. But it was clear that Dorcas was never going to go willingly with him. Eventually, with a sigh, he put his money on the dressing table and left.
Chapter Twelve
Araminta had ignored the growing pains in her belly for as long as it took to get herself dressed, with Jane’s help, occasioned by Jane’s perpetual grumbling.
“Yer can’t go, m’lady. It ain’t right in yer condition,” her stubborn maid kept saying.
“I’m a married woman who can do what I please, and I won’t have a servant telling me what to do.”
“An’ all alone?” Jane went on, as if she hadn’t heard Araminta. “Madness, that’s wot ’tis! Wot if summat ‘appens while yer in the carriage? Wot if the babe decides ter come, then?”
Araminta held up the exquisite diamond and ruby necklace Debenham had given her as a wedding gift. “What do you think of this, Jane?”
“Yer going ter wear that ter go ter yer sister’s fer dinner? Ter impress Miss ’Etty? Or per’aps it’s Sir Aubrey yer want ter impress?”
Araminta might have swung around in fury on any other occasion. But the wretched baby was so active, and she needed to take her mind off her misfortunes, so she managed to exercise a higher than usual degree of tolerance. “I can’t imagine why you’d say such a thing, Jane. No, there is another guest who will be there. Someone far more interesting than Sir Aubrey.”
“Well, I don’t fink yer should go, m’lady. Not wiv Sir Aubrey there who’ll be lookin’ at yer belly an’—”
“And what, Jane?” This time, Araminta did round on her, her voice a low snarl, though not before deciding against the necklace and instead wearing only the matching dangling earrings in her lobes. It had been less than six months since Debenham had presented them to her, together with his mother’s diamond and ruby necklace on her wedding night and, by god, Araminta felt she’d earned them. Let Lord Ludbridge ad
mire the way they made her eyes sparkle. Perhaps the jewels might help fund a future together. Life wasn’t all about money and riches, and if Araminta could escape her dreadful marriage to Debenham with a few small sacrifices, she’d do it.
As she gazed at her reflection, she imagined fleeing to France with handsome Teddy. How romantic if the jewels Debenham had given her could fund a few years of them living together in a charming chateau. Then, as soon as she’d heard that Debenham had drunk himself into an early grave, she could return to England and resume her rightful position in society. As Lady Ludbridge.
