Page 30 of The King of Whitechapel (Victorian Outcasts #7)

thirty

N AVIGATING THE ARISTOCRACY’S rules was easier than dealing with gangsters’s etiquette for Elizabeth.

She had no idea her refusal to accept Finn’s gift would cause such a reaction, and she had no idea that Christopher would agree with Finn. Yes, it was true that she didn’t belong to their world.

She found the boy in his room, bent over a book on probability. How fitting. “Finn.”

He rested his chin on his fist and didn’t look up. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” She sat next to him, but he kept his focus on the book. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It doesn’t matter..”

“It does.” She touched his hand.

He faced her, his deep eyes hard. “Will you keep the gift?”

“I’ll keep the money, but I can’t accept Spencer Hall.”

He scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “So I wasted my time.”

“No. I found what you did impressive.” Wicked, but impressive. “I can’t accept an estate.”

“He deserves to be tricked.”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to be an executioner and deliver the killing blow.”

His stance slackened. “I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

“You have a talent for maths although you should be careful with cheating when playing cards. You might find your match.”

“I’m careful. Besides, I only count the cards and do a quick calculation of the probabilities. I don’t hide an ace up my sleeve. People don’t take me seriously. They underestimate me.”

“I don’t. You’re a brilliant, caring young man, and I appreciate what you did for me. I think that losing Spencer Hall while gambling is enough punishment for my father. My mother must be furious. She loves Spencer Hall.”

“I did it for Odette as well. Your father has destroyed my life.” He jabbed a finger at himself.

“Don’t be so dramatic. There will be other opportunities to see Odette. She’s still interested in seeing you.”

“Until she knows I work for the King.”

“That’s another matter.” She gave him her hand. “Do we have an agreement? Please don’t be angry with me. I promise I’ll help you see Odette again.”

He flashed a timid smile. “We do have an agreement.”

* * *

Elizabeth’s legs quivered as she stood on the pavement in front of her parents’ townhouse. The house where she’d slept, spent her afternoons laughing with her sisters, and played the piano at Christmas with her grandmother. Now it was a strange place, cold and unforgiving. Returning here was like meeting someone who had been her best friend but was now a stranger.

She’d never found the white-walled, three-storey house intimidating, but standing under its shadow before she talked with her parents chilled her to the bone.

“Are you sure you want to see your parents?” Christopher asked. “You can just leave the document and be done with it.”

She held the envelope with the promissory note of Spencer Hall. “No, I want to talk to them. I won’t behave like a thief. I didn’t do anything wrong, and they should be ashamed of themselves, not me.”

Christopher nodded. “That’s the spirit, and I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled with a confidence she didn’t feel.

“I’ll wait for you here,” he said. “I guess they wouldn’t be happy to see me.”

She took a deep breath and walked around the house to the rear entrance. Knowing her parents, her chances of being let in would be greater if she didn’t knock on the front door and risk being turned away.

Despite the fact she was confident of her integrity and was aware she hadn’t been unfaithful to Pearce, a cold quiver took hold of her.

“Who’s there?” The scullery maid pulled the door open and stared at her. A riot of emotions displayed on her face, none of them inviting. “My lady?”

“Good morning. I must see my father immediately.” Her voice quivered a little.

The maid shook her head. “I can’t let you in. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’ll be quick.” She walked past the maid, ignoring her protests.

“My lady, I can’t let you in.”

“I won’t be long.”

She walked with determination along the hallway, pretending not to see the servants’ sideways glances or hear their mutters. Her father was likely to be in the sunroom, having his breakfast. He was a creature of habit, very predictable. Well, aside from his secret gambling vice.

“My lady.” George, the footman, followed her, stomping behind her in the corridor. “I must ask you to leave.”

She was surprised her father’s servants still addressed her with respect.

“It’s all right. It will be a quick visit.”

George seemed torn between obeying and tossing her out. “I …”

“I’ll take the blame. Don’t worry.”

She pushed the door to the sunroom open, and as predicted, her parents were drinking tea at the pretty white table surrounded by pots of fresh flowers. Porridge and kippers were always present for breakfast, along with Cook’s scones and fresh butter. The scent teased her nostrils and brought her back to those lazy mornings when she’d enjoyed a long breakfast in this very room, surrounded by sunlight.

For a moment, no one spoke. They stared at each other in frozen shock. Mother remained with her cup halfway to her mouth. Even George stood petrified behind Elizabeth, and Father’s eyes widened.

He was the first to recover. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m sorry, my lord.” George made a half-hearted attempt at grabbing her arm, but she stepped out of his reach.

She opened the envelope with shaky fingers. “Do not worry. I’m leaving. I’m here only to give you Spencer Hall back.”

“What are you talking about?” Mother thawed as well.

Elizabeth put the promissory note on the table. “I could have sold the estate or taken it for myself, but I didn’t.”

Father paled, gazing everywhere but in her direction. “Well …”

“I don’t understand. What is this?” Mother snatched the document and read it. When she finished, she lowered it slowly, her eyebrows rising to her hairline. “Charles, tell me there’s a mistake. You gambled Spencer Hall and lost it?”

Elizabeth was shocked, too. She’d assumed Mother had been aware of Father’s gambling, or at the very least that Father had confessed to having lost Spencer Hall.

“Charles!” Mother said. “Explain yourself.”

He fiddled with his bow tie. “Yes, I did lose Spencer Hall at a card game.”

Mother gasped so deeply and loudly that Elizabeth feared she might faint.

“But,” he hurried to say, “it’s not what it seems. Obviously, Elizabeth planned all this to make me lose. She must have devised a plan to cheat and force me to hand her Spencer Hall. It’s her doing.”

“How dare you!” Elizabeth slammed a hand against the table, ignoring the pain. After the cups rattled in their saucers, silence dropped. “I didn’t devise any plans. You lost Spencer Hall because you’re a gambler. You did this. I didn’t do anything.” She tapped her fingers on the document. “The person who won Spencer Hall offered it to me. I came here to give it back to you because I didn’t want it.”

Mother folded the contract carefully. “I think she’s telling the truth.”

“Margaret—”

“Don’t say a word. We’ll talk about that later.” Mother pressed her lips in a flat line. “Elizabeth, while I think your father is responsible for this incident, I do question how you came into possession of this document.”

“By chance, because from the moment you threw me out, I barely survived, and ironically, the places Father attends to gamble are the same dangerous places where I live now, and if you had cared to read my letters, you would know.”

“She planned this,” he said. “I told you.”

Sadness came to the fore, and she couldn’t contain it. “I’m so disappointed by you.”

It pained her saying that, but it was true.

“Elizabeth,” Mother said, “he’s your father.”

“Not anymore. I disown you.” She took in a deep breath because she didn’t want to cry in front of them. But since she was there, she could voice her opinion. “You didn’t protect me when I needed you. A parent should do more, a parent should be ready to defend their child. You hurt me and disappointed me. You are no longer my family.” She couldn’t go on without sobbing.

She strode out of the house, her eyes burning with desperation. This time, she used the front door. Let the neighbours see her leave.

Christopher was next to her in a moment. She hadn’t seen him coming.

“How are you?” He cupped her face and searched her eyes.

“I’m all right. Really, I am.”

He hailed a cab and hugged her once they were inside. “You aren’t all right.”

She rested her head on his chest, fighting the tears she wouldn’t shed for those who didn’t care about her.