Cinderella Sister (32 page)

Lily smiled. ‘I don’t know, Prissy. I think it’s deserted me.’

‘You’ll go downstairs and act like you own the place, that’s what you’ll do,’ Prissy said with a determined toss of her head. ‘You and me is out of place here, but we’ll beat ’em yet. Now wash your hands and face like a good girl, and when I come back from filling her ladyship’s bathtub I’ll put your hair up just like them women what comes here for their dinners. You should see them all draped in furs and sparkling with jewels and I bet none of it’s paid for. But that’s how the arty people live, so Cook says, and I believe her.’ Prissy tipped the coal into the scuttle, and having tossed a few shiny black nuggets onto the fire she left the room, promising a speedy return.

Not wanting to upset Prissy by ignoring her well-meaning advice, Lily stripped off her morning gown and splashed the rapidly cooling water on her face. She had barely noticed the light fading, but it was dark outside now, and the only light in the room came from the fire and the soft glow of the street lamp. Everard might have had gas put in the downstairs rooms but on the upper floors they had to rely on candles. As she lit the candles with a spill, the scent of warm wax reminded her of happier times in the dockmaster’s house. They might not have had money to spare, but they had enjoyed a comfortable standard of living. There had been laughter as well as tears in the family home, but it was, she thought sadly, impossible to turn back time. She must hold on to what was good in her life at the moment, and that was her art lessons with Gabriel. He had said she was improving every day and she clung to that like a drowning woman holding on to a spar.

She glanced over her shoulder as Prissy entered the room.

‘Look at you, miss, standing there in your shift. You’ll catch a chill if you ain’t careful.’ Prissy held up a gown of shimmering emerald-green barège. ‘The missis has had her bath and she’s quite forgot your little spat. She sent this for you to wear tonight. She was throwing it out anyway since she’s bought new ones today, but it was always too small for her. She only wore it once and then I had to lace her in so tight that she fainted away afore she got to the bedroom door. Still, as my ma used to say, “pride feels no pain”. Anyhow, it’ll fit you a treat and bring out the colour of your eyes.’

Before Lily had a chance to protest, Prissy had bundled her into the elegant garment and was busy doing up the tiny fabric-covered buttons down the back. ‘What did I say? It’s a perfect fit and you won’t swoon every time you eat more than a pea. The missis is always swooning, mainly because she don’t eat enough to keep a sparrow alive, but sometimes I think she does it to get out of an argument with the master. I has to keep the sal volatile handy and we’re forever picking her up off the floor.’

With this new vision of her mother in her mind’s eye, Lily went downstairs wearing the almost new gown, and her hair piled high on her head in an elaborate coiffure. Despite being raised on a farm, Prissy had a natural talent as a coiffeuse, and as Lily had no jewellery to adorn her Prissy had snipped a few white camellias from one of the floral arrangements in the drawing room and pinned them in her hair. Lily felt
grand enough to attend a ball but she was apprehensive despite Prissy’s insistence that all was well with the missis now. She had reached the first floor landing and almost bumped into her mother as she glided out of the drawing room on Everard’s arm.

Charlotte gave her a dazzling smile. ‘Darling girl, how fine you look.’ She shot a look at Everard beneath her lashes. ‘Doesn’t my baby girl look pretty, dearest?’

Everard patted her hand as it lay in the crook of his arm. ‘Splendid, my love. Lily is a credit to you.’

‘We’re going out,’ Charlotte said with an airy wave of her hand. ‘We’re dining with dear Gabriel.’

Lily’s heart gave an uncomfortable leap inside her breast. So that was why he had been so mysterious, and yet he could have told her that he was entertaining his father and stepmother. ‘In Gower Street?’ she said faintly.

‘Gower Street?’ Charlotte’s delicate eyebrows rose in twin arcs of astonishment. ‘Oh, I see. No, my sweet, not that Gabriel. We’re dining with the famous artist Dante Gabriel Rossetti who is known to his friends as Gabriel, and after whom Everard’s naughty son is named.’

Lily stared at her mother, slightly nonplussed by this change in attitude. Charlotte’s eyes were suspiciously bright and her smile a little too dreamy; her pupils were dilated and Lily realised that what Prissy had said was true. Ma was not only slightly tipsy, but she had taken something that made her appear relaxed to the point of languor and had apparently obliterated all memory of their recent unpleasant encounter.
Charlotte leaned forward to tap Lily on the arm with her tightly furled fan. ‘You must come with us one day, my sweet daughter. I want dear John Millais to meet you and maybe he will ask you to be a model for one of his paintings. Then there is Effie, his wife, and my bosom friend. We share so much in common, darling. We are both scarlet women according to stuffy polite society, although of course I was widowed when I married Everard, and Effie divorced Ruskin, her first husband. You’ve heard of him, no doubt. It was a complete and utter scandal, but I’ll tell you about it when I have more time. Now we must go. Do hurry up, Everard, or we’ll be late.’

‘Yes, dear,’ Everard said patiently. He guided her towards the staircase. ‘Slowly does it, old girl. We don’t want you to take a tumble on the stairs and spoil that nice new gown.’

‘It was frightfully expensive,’ Charlotte said happily. ‘I hope you sell that painting in the Winter Exhibition, darling, or we’ll end up in Carey Street.’

‘Hush now, poppet. Don’t worry your pretty head about such matters.’

Lily watched them progress slowly down the stairs, with Charlotte laughing and chattering like a schoolgirl and Everard helping her down each step. Lily did not know whom to blame the most, her mother for refusing to acknowledge that they were living well above their income or Everard for encouraging her in her folly. They were, she decided, equally at fault and she could only hope that the painting in the Royal Academy would do well enough to save them from
the bankruptcy that seemed to be looming over their heads.

She followed them downstairs at a sober rate. It looked as though she would be dining alone tonight but she seemed to have lost her appetite. She waited in the hallway while Prissy helped Ma into a sapphire-blue velvet opera cloak with a scarlet satin lining, and Everard donned a cashmere overcoat with a black velvet collar and a top hat. He glanced over his shoulder with an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry to leave you alone yet again, my dear. We’ll make it up to you another time.’

Lily had heard this before. In the weeks that she had been living in Keppel Street she could count on her fingers the nights when they had dined as a family, and even then Ma and Everard had gone out afterwards or had entertained friends who came to drink and play cards. They had been artists and writers all unknown to Lily, and she suspected now that they were also little known in the world of art, but they talked a lot, drank even more and smoked cigars and cigarillos until the atmosphere in the drawing room resembled a London particular. On these occasions Lily had slipped away to her room early, unnoticed by anyone. Gabriel, when she had told him of these soirées, had warned her to steer clear of the louche society entertained by his father and stepmother. ‘That’s another reason I left home,’ he had said. ‘They’re a worthless lot with little or no talent, but they think they’re the next big thing. You have more artistic flair in your little finger than most of them have in their
whole body. Avoid them if you can. Don’t get sucked in by their big talk and impossible dreams.’

She recalled his words now. They had meant little to her at the time, but she realised that in many small ways Gabriel had tried to warn her about the bohemian lifestyle favoured by those who clung to the fringes of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. They were mere hangers-on, unaccepted by the great men and women of the art world.

‘Go outside and see if Perks has brought the carriage to the door,’ Everard said, checking his appearance in the wall mirror. ‘Where is that boy? If he’s late we’ll have to go without him, Cara.’

Lily’s attention was dragged back to the present. She thought for a moment that he meant Gabriel, although common sense told her that this was unlikely, and when Prissy opened the door Lily gave an involuntary gasp as she saw her brother framed in the doorway. ‘Luke.’

He stepped inside, looking ungainly and awkward in an ill-fitting suit that Lily did not recognise as belonging to any of her brothers. The sleeves were too short, exposing frayed cuffs and bony wrists, and the trousers, equally lacking in length, had caught in the tops of his boots. Lily could see that he had attempted to put a shine on the leather but it was too scuffed to make any difference. Luke’s fair complexion was already flushed with the cold and his colour deepened as he gazed at Charlotte and Everard in their evening clothes. In his hand he clutched one of Mr Cobbold’s old ledgers. Lily recognised it instantly as the one in which he wrote all his poems and her heart went out
to him. ‘Lily,’ he said, his face brightening at the sight of her. ‘You look absolutely splendid. I hardly recognised you.’

‘We must go, old chap,’ Everard said hastily. ‘Come, my dear, we don’t want to keep our illustrious host waiting.’

Charlotte grasped his arm to steady herself. ‘Dear me, no. That would never do.’ She waved vaguely to Luke. ‘I see you’ve brought your work, my dear boy. This might be your one big chance. All manner of writers, poets and publishers are going to be there this evening.’

‘Ma,’ Lily exclaimed. ‘What are you doing?’

Charlotte blinked as she attempted to focus her eyes on her daughter. ‘What’s the matter, darling?’

‘Why are you taking him to one of those places? Luke won’t fit in with the sort of people you know.’

‘Of course he will,’ Charlotte protested. ‘He’s a poet, and a good one too. Don’t be so stuffy, Lily.’

‘I’ll be fine, Lil,’ Luke said cheerfully. ‘It’s just this blooming suit that’s making me uncomfortable. I got it from the dollyshop but I think the last person who wore it might have not been travelling alone, if you get my meaning.’ He scratched beneath his arm, causing Charlotte to utter a faint moan.

‘Never mind that now,’ Everard shooed him out of the door. ‘No time to change. Can’t be too late. Frightfully bad manners.’ With his arm looped around Charlotte’s waist, and with Prissy’s help, he assisted her down the steps to the waiting carriage.

‘Don’t go with them, Luke,’ Lily cried anxiously. ‘They’re not our sort of people.’

He grinned cheerfully. ‘Don’t worry about me, Lil. My poems speak for me, so no one will notice that I’m a bit on the rough side. Ma says it’s part of my charm.’ He hurried out of the house, leaping the steps and jumping into the carriage after Everard.

Lily clutched the newel post, dizzy with anxiety. She had seen enough of her mother’s so-called friends to fear that Luke’s optimism was sadly misplaced.

‘Well, they’ve gone,’ Prissy said as she ran back into the house, closing the door behind her. ‘They’ll be more than a bit squiffy by the time they get home. I hope that good-looking brother of yours has a strong head for drink. Anyway, it looks like you’re eating alone, miss. Shall I tell Cook to serve dinner now?’

‘I’m not very hungry, Prissy. Perhaps some on a tray in the morning parlour, or in my room. To tell the truth I have a bit of a headache.’

‘And you dressed up so fine,’ Prissy said, shaking her head. ‘You should be going to a ball or one of the eating places up West, not sitting by the fire in the parlour all on your own. It ain’t right.’

Lily opened her mouth to placate Prissy but the sound of someone rapping on the doorknocker made them both turn with a start.

‘They’ll have forgotten something,’ Prissy muttered, bustling off to investigate.

Lily crossed her fingers, hoping that Luke had listened to her warning and changed his mind, but when Prissy opened the door it was not Luke who stood on the threshold but Gabriel and Armand.

‘It’s like a blooming railway station,’ Prissy exclaimed.
‘Comings and goings all the time.’ She stood aside ushering them in. ‘Come in then if you’re coming. It’s taters out there.’

Gabriel stood back to allow Armand to enter first. He strode towards Lily with his hands outstretched. ‘
Ma chère
Lily, how beautiful you look. Are you otherwise engaged?’

Lily shook her head. ‘No, I thought I was dining with Ma and Everard but they’ve gone out and they’ve taken Luke with them. I’m so worried about him.’

Gabriel joined them. ‘Luke’s a big boy now. I’m sure he can take care of himself. Where have they gone, as a matter of interest?’

‘To Mr Rossetti’s house, I think. But you know what Ma’s friends are like, Gabriel; they’ll gobble Luke up and spit him out when they tire of him.’

‘Not if he gets noticed by the great and the good,’ Gabriel said, smiling. ‘I agree that some of the lesser beings in the set are a waste of time, but should Rossetti himself or any of the genuine Brotherhood take to Luke, it could be the making of him.’

‘Alas, I do not move in those circles, nor am I a great lover of art,’ Armand admitted. ‘But Gabriel is right, Lily. Your brother is a man now and he must make his own mistakes, as we all do.’

‘Is the French toff staying for dinner?’ Prissy demanded, eyeing Armand with suspicion. ‘We ain’t got no frog’s legs, mister. No snails neither.’

Lily shot her a warning glance. ‘It’s all right, thank you, Prissy. I doubt if Monsieur Labrosse is staying for
dinner, or Mr Gabriel for that matter.’ She turned to Gabriel. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Allow me to answer that question,’ Armand said before Gabriel had a chance to reply. ‘We would like to take you somewhere special this evening, Lily. Gabriel and I arranged it as a surprise for you.’

‘Yes, fetch Miss Larkin’s mantle, please, Prissy,’ Gabriel said firmly. ‘We have a carriage waiting outside.’

Prissy stood her ground. ‘And you’ll bring her back safe and sound?’