Free Far Above Rubies by Anne-Marie Vukelic Page B

prodding the hot coals with a poker.
    ‘Charles, I am sorry. You are right. If Miss Burdett-Coutts is as generous as you say, then, of course, you must invite her to our home and see what she can help you to accomplish.’
    He did not reply, but stared at the fire with a sullen expression upon his face.
    I put my hand upon his arm. ‘Charles? Please don’t be cross. I am sorry, truly I am.’
    He eyed me with suspicion. ‘Are you sure, Kate? Do you really mean it?’
    ‘Yes, of course, my love. I will speak to Mama immediately and see if she will allow me to borrow Alice for the evening.’
    Pleased at getting his own way, he forgot his sulkiness, drew me towards him and kissed my forehead.
     
    Miss Burdett-Coutts, escorted by Mr Marjoribanks, arrived half an hour later than expected. She held out her hand and greeted me with an apology.
    ‘Please, will you excuse my tardiness, Mrs Dickens? I was detained at my lawyer’s office. He is handling the purchase of a property for me, a little project that I have in mind to discuss with your husband later.’
    I examined her face carefully as she spoke. It was long and narrow, the features being not in the least bit beautiful, except for her eyes, which were full of kindness and shone with sincerity. She wore a deep cream-silk evening dress with short puffed sleeves and, as she moved from the hall to the dining room, I caught the light scent of jasmine and lavender.
    Over dinner she and Charles engaged in animated conversation and I could see why Charles was taken with her. She was intelligent, witty and possessed an enthusiasm for life that matched his own. She nodded as she listened to his lively discourse. Earlier in the year, Charles had visited Yorkshire and been most distressed at the terrible conditions that existed in the schools there. The pupils were ill-treated, malnourished and were subjected to the most cruel punishments. Miss Burdett-Coutts was fascinated by Charles’s yearning to cover the subject in his writing.
    ‘What a wonderful idea, Mr Dickens, that is just what is needed – a greater awareness of such matters.’
    She, in turn, quietly confided her own plans to open a hostel for fallen women. Mr Marjoribanks, who had appeared to beabsorbed in conversing with John Forster about investments, turned his head quickly and, with a disapproving frown, interjected, ‘I am not sure that the partners at the bank would approve of you using your allowance to fund such a project, miss.’
    But it seemed that Angela Burdett-Coutts was not a woman to be held back by the opinion of any man and she laughed good-naturedly . ‘Those elderly gentleman have quickly given up telling me how I should use my money, my dear Mr M, and I hope that you will soon tire of it too.’
    I marvelled at her words and could not help but envy her a little: she did not seem to be bound at all by the conventions that governed most women, but appeared to be completely independent in both mind and action.
    As the evening progressed, laughter filled the candlelit dining room. Charles dropped into his chair, exhausted from recounting a humorous sketch in which he had taken all the parts.
    ‘My dear boy, what a marvellous actor you are!’ Forster whooped, clapping his hands.
    Mr Marjoribanks enthused with wonder, ‘You are outshone by no other, sir!’
    Miss Burdett-Coutts nodded, joining in the applause and Forster raised his glass in a toast.
    ‘There is little chance that you will ever return to the blacking factory now, dear fellow, you can be sure of that.’
    His ever-ready lips were pursed to take another swig of wine but above the rim he saw an unexplained fierceness enter into Charles’s eyes. My husband leaned across the table and fixed Forster with a glare.
    ‘That,’ he hissed, ‘is a part of my life that I wish never to be mentioned.’
    The room fell silent. Forster cleared his throat and attempted a gay little laugh to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Come now, Dickens, no