‘No, miss, not that road!’ Martha flapped her hands frantically. ‘You don’t want to go down there, miss, it’s terrible rough. We goes through there.’ She pointed to a small alley on the left.
‘Oh, yes, I see now. I thought I had learnt the way.’ Kitty frowned as she looked at the tangle of alleys leading from this open space in amongst the endless narrow streets. What had once been grand town houses had decayed into this higgledy-piggledy mass. Lean-to rooms had been added on to old walls. Doors and windows had been knocked into the crumbling walls. Often the only covering was a scrap of wood or rag.
Her gaze lifted to the upper floors, where faces stared out, idly watching her. Some of them were dulled by drink, some were grey with hunger. Everywhere there were tiny passageways, mysterious entrances and steps leading to yet more sinister little yards. It was an absolute warren, overflowing with ragged people. A few of them appeared to be selling objects from a shelf in front of a dwelling or doing jobs like repairing chairs but most just sat huddled together with their animals on doorsteps.
Partly clothed children swarmed around whining for pennies. All this added to her confusion. In addition she had to concentrate on avoiding the endless piles of unsavoury rubbish. The stench of rotten food and unwashed humanity was almost overwhelming. No wonder so many of these poor souls looked so grey.
She suddenly realized how alien this world was and felt a shiver run down her spine. Thank goodness for Martha, to guide her safely back home. Heads turned to watch as she went past. She could see the calculation in the eyes as they inspected her hat and pelisse. Still, she did not regret coming for this second visit to help Martha’s little brother.
Lady Picton had readily agreed to let Martha accompany Kitty when she went out to the lending library or shopping. It was a pleasure to see how Martha’s pale face brightened each time Kitty summoned her for an outing. And on two occasions their walks took them past the fashionable streets and eastwards into the stinking alleyways of the old city. Here, Martha’s family had been forced to live since her father had been conscripted into the army.
Some roads were so narrow that a broad-shouldered man would have to turn sideways to get through. It was poverty on a scale that Kitty had never imagined. She felt stunned on her first visit. Then she began to wonder what could be done to improve the lives of these unfortunate souls. This was something she wanted to discuss with Theo, when they could have time for a serious conversation. But he had been absent from town since their meeting in the library.
Meanwhile, Kitty and Martha had taken fruit and bread to the single room that was home for all Martha’s family. Kitty advised cooling the little boy’s head by sponging him with wet rags, but in view of the family’s poverty, there was nothing else they could do. On this second visit, it was plain that little Sam was still very unwell but he managed a smile on seeing his visitors. The girls felt more hopeful that he could recover.
Now they were hurrying to get back to Grosvenor Square by lunchtime. Kitty raised her skirts to step across another mass of stinking refuse where a pig was rooting. They crossed the street and took the alley to the left. This soon opened into a wider road, still dingy but less crowded with ragged children. The air smelt fresher. There were several shops and housewives with baskets were gossiping and bargaining. It already seemed a safer environment.
‘Quick, miss,’ Martha whispered, ‘turn your face towards the wall for ’eaven’s sake.’
‘Why?’ Kitty frowned at her. ‘We must hurry.’
We must ’ide,’ whispered Martha nervously. ‘That moosoo is over the road.’
‘Surely not! You must be mistaken.’ But to her astonishment, it really was Etienne de Saint-Aubin, just ahead of her in the narrow street. He was in the act of coming out of a doorway, with a man each side of him. She swallowed hard. Etienne had sharp eyes and he noticed everything. He would certainly tell her aunt.
She did as Martha suggested and pretended to be looking at a shop window. Perhaps he would hurry away. Behind her she could hear the sounds of a struggle. Then there was a thud, a groan and some coarse laughter. Kitty turned sharply. Etienne was sprawling face down in the alley. He was close enough for her to touch him. The two men were standing over him. She shielded her face and edged away, pulling Martha with her.
People were rushing to watch the scene. As the crowd gathered, one of the bullies raised a fist like a ham and yelled, ‘An’ jes’ see yer do as we tell yer, bejabers, or there’s more to come.’ Kitty noticed the man’s shock of red hair. He spat, folded his arms and leaned back against the doorframe. The other man disappeared inside.
Etienne slowly got to his feet. He was clutching his ribs. He bent to pick up his hat. He cast a burning look at his tormentors in the doorway, which made them jeer at him again. He turned away at last and set off down the street. When Kitty looked round again, he had gone.
It was a subdued Kitty who made her way back into the more wealthy part of town. It seemed there were dark undercurrents to the lives of more people than just servants. She knew Etienne had very little money and wondered if he had been attacked because of debt. But she could not offer to help. Her aunt would be outraged if she knew where Kitty had been and Martha would certainly be turned off without a reference.
‘Why, Miss Towers. Good morning to you.’
The deep voice startled Kitty out of her thoughts. She raised her head to see Theo right in front of her. His eyes were keen and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. She pulled herself together and nodded a greeting.
‘Miss Towers, you have hurried along Bond Street without one glance at any of the smart displays in the shop windows. How is this possible?’
Kitty looked around. Indeed, they were in Bond Street, close to the entrance to Jackson’s Boxing Saloon. She tried to push the image of Etienne and the bullies to the back of her mind. Theo was still watching her, one eyebrow raised. His teasing smile faded and his gaze became concerned.
Kitty cast him a wary glance. ‘I fear I am late, sir. My aunt will be displeased if I linger any further.’
‘Well, I, too, am on my way home. My route takes me past Grosvenor Square. I will accompany you, if I may.’
For once, Kitty would have preferred to avoid his company, but she did not see how to say so without giving offence. She gave him a tiny smile and began to walk on. He fell into step beside her. Martha followed behind. They reached the corner and turned into the quieter street leading to the square, still in silence. Kitty knew that Theo was looking at her closely.
‘You seem rather preoccupied, Miss Towers. I would almost say you look as if you have had a shock. Forgive me, has anyone been pestering you?’
Why did he have to be so astute? She forced a little laugh. ‘Not at all, sir. I am just anxious not to upset my aunt’s plans.’
‘But there is something wrong.’ He bent his head to examine her face. ‘Even the most frugal young lady enjoys looking at fashions. To be so preoccupied makes me wonder if you have perhaps seen a different kind of society. Have you ventured past the Haymarket and into the poorer parts of town? Or perhaps you have been harassed by beggars?’
Kitty gave a little gasp, which she hastily turned into a cough.
‘Well?’ he insisted. ‘Am I right?’
‘I – er.…’ She gave him a reluctant smile. ‘Yes, sir. Oh, nobody pestered me. I went to the St Giles area. And there is a great deal of work to be done there.’
Theo stopped abruptly. He was frowning, but in a look of concern, not ill-humour. ‘You have been into the slums of the old city? Into St Giles?’
She nodded. ‘I have, but I would be obliged if you would keep that confidential. My aunt must not know anything of this.’
He nodded impatiently. ‘Your aunt will know soon enough if you develop a fever. Those slums are full of disease.’
‘I have only been into one home,’ said Kitty defensively.
‘One could be enough.’ His tone was serious. ‘I respect your interest in the welfare of the poor, but that is not a place where you can do any good. And you are putting yourself in danger.’
‘I have my maid with me,’ retorted Kitty. ‘She knows the area; in fact, we have been to her home.’ She was about to mention little Sam’s fever but checked herself. He would say that it proved his point. She moved on. He still accompanied her. Now she felt angry. He was interfering. Of course she needed to see for herself what life was like in the slums.
He still had that heavy frown on his face. At last she could stand the silence no more. She stopped again and lifted her chin defiantly. Before his eyes could have their usual effect on her, she asserted, ‘I know you mean well and I thank you for your concern. However, I am a vicar’s daughter and I am accustomed to seeing poverty and slum conditions.’
‘But I warrant you have not seen anything like the area of St Giles before. Come, Miss Towers, aside from the health risks, that particular area is teeming with rogues. Why, a group of gentlemen would fear to venture in. I shudder to think what might happen. You have been lucky so far.’ He took her hand and held it firmly. There was a rueful smile on his face now. ‘I mean it, you must not do that again. It is no place for a young lady – especially a pretty young lady, if I may say so.’
They looked at each other for a long moment. Theo’s gaze sharpened. His dark brows drew together. ‘You do not mean to follow my advice, do you?’
‘I cannot.’ Kitty held his gaze. She saw the spark of anger in his eyes, watched his lips tighten, then a polite mask hid his emotions.
He inclined his head. ‘If you must go back, take a sturdy serving man with you. Good day to you.’
Theo strode away as fast as his aching leg would let him. How could this girl make him feel so angry and so anxious at one and the same time? Why should he care what became of her if she was headstrong and foolish? But he did care and – if he let himself admit it, he admired her determination to do what she could to help those less fortunate than herself.
The devil of it was that in those back alleys she would soon attract the attention of some ruthless crook. Then she would simply disappear. He had to make her understand that there were other ways to give help to the poor. He shook his head. He needed more time with her. She was stubborn; she was spirited, but she was intelligent and, in the end, he would convince her. The task was not going to be altogether unpleasant.
He dwelt on her wonderful brown eyes, honest and direct, warning him to mind his own business. Here was a young woman of principle, and at the same time she was a pleasure to look at. He drew in his breath, remembering how she smelled of roses. And that mouth…. His frown disappeared. By the time he reached his rooms in Stratton Street he was smiling in a way that caused his valet to look at him twice.