A Web of Dreams Read online

  Moreover, there was an additional and more important reason to be happy. Bobby was waiting for her in his rooms in Charlotte Square.

  She rang the downstairs bell, then ran up the beautiful curving stone staircase. Bobby was awaiting her on the landing of the second floor, the door of the apartment open behind him. He took her inside, taking from her the parcel of sample cloth and throwing it on a chair.

  ‘How is it that almost every time I meet you, you’re carrying parcels around?’

  ‘Oh, Bobby, it’s wonderful to see you again! It’s been such a long time! Almost a whole month since we met.’

  ‘And you’re even prettier than ever.’ He tilted up her face to him. ‘Come now, tell me what you’ve been up to. I can see you’ve just done something clever or special ‒ you’re all alight with it.’

  ‘What do you think, Bobby! I’ve just sold some cloth to an Empress!’

  ‘An Empress?’ He laughed. ‘Come, my pet, there are no Empresses in Edinburgh.’

  ‘No, well, I mean, to one of her ladies-in-waiting ‒ just imagine, the Russian Empress herself. She’ll be wearing a gown made of Corvill cloth before long.’

  ‘Never mind her, you’re my empress,’ Bobby told her. ‘Come along in, I got Stephenson to make us some tea before he left.’ Stephenson was the servant who went with the set of rooms. ‘How long can you stay?’

  ‘Oh, certainly until six o’clock ‒ I’ll just say that the Russian lady kept me waiting.’

  ‘Little minx,’ Bobby said in admiration.

  He was really very fond of her. She flew to his arms like a joyous bird, which was always so very flattering, and she had proved an apt pupil in the art of love under his tutelage. However, he found her enthusiasm about business matters rather a bore and, to tell the truth, he wished she hadn’t been mixed up in the weaving trade.

  He was accustomed to boasting to his friends about ‘My little German actress’ or ‘my little shop girl’. It hardly sounded right to talk about ‘my little weaver’ ‒ there was something not very chic about it. But he was proud enough of Jenny to have told one or two cronies how much he enjoyed his trips to the cold and dismal northland.

  As they sat together on the sofa with the tea tray in front of the bright fire Stephenson had kindled, he was looking forward to a very enjoyable afternoon. Jenny had taken off her bonnet and cloak, to reveal herself in a neat gown of blue and black check, with a blue silk edging. As she poured the second cup of tea, he began what had become a little tradition with them: untying the blue ribbon bow at her neck and unbuttoning the front of her gown, so that the white broderie edging of her camisole could be seen. The next move would be to slip his hand inside that crisp white linen, to fondle the warm curves underneath.

  He had just moved closer to her on the sofa and was pushing her back against its headboard when an unexpected sound made him pause.

  Someone was turning a key in the outer door.

  God damn it, if Stephenson had come back for the tea tray at this inappropriate moment, he’d skin him alive.

  Jenny too sat up. She hadn’t heard the sound, but she saw that something had startled Bobby.

  ‘What is it, darling?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll tell you what it is, darling,’ said a harsh voice from the door of the drawing room, ‘you have a visitor.’

  Bobby had jumped to his feet. Jenny sat erect, fumbling together the edges of her bodice. ‘Who … who on earth are you?’ she faltered.

  ‘Who did you expect?’ said the very fashionable lady who was glaring at her with fury. ‘I’m Mrs Robert Prentiss.’

  Chapter Four

  The world stood still. Her heart gave a great lurch and ceased to beat. The moment lasted for eternity.

  Then Bobby’s wife broke the spell with her loud, angry voice. ‘Well? Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Bobby?’

  ‘Laura,’ he gasped.

  ‘Yes, Laura! What am I doing here, you ask. Catching you with your latest trollop, that’s what! You fool ‒ did you think I couldn’t read the signs?’

  ‘Laura, you misunderstand ‒’

  ‘Not I! I’ve seen you creeping off all sleek with expectation too often to make a mistake. This time I decided I’d meet the slut ‒’

  ‘Laura, you’re being very ‒’

  ‘I’m not a slut,’ Jenny said, her voice suddenly coming back in a broken whisper.

  ‘By no means! A respectable daughter of the vicarage, no doubt. Or from a local convent.’

  ‘I’m a weaver ‒’

  ‘A weaver? A weaver? My God, Bobby, I thought you had more taste than to take up with a common mill girl.’

  ‘Now look here, Laura ‒’

  ‘Oh, hold your tongue! And you, girl ‒ do up your clothes, you look disgusting.’

  Certainly it was no contest between them. Mrs Robert Prentiss was dressed in the height of fashion: a crinoline gown of figured heavy silk under a fur cape, a small bonnet trimmed with matching fur, a muff of fur and ruched black ribbon.

  She had light brown hair exquisitely dressed in ringlets, and her hazel eyes were blazing with anger.

  With trembling fingers Jenny buttoned her dress, tied the bow at the neck. She wanted to stand up, to be less at a disadvantage before this tall, elegant woman, but her knees were too weak to support her.

  ‘You shouldn’t have come here, Laura,’ mumbled Bobby, standing hunched and wretched to one side. ‘It’s very … very unseemly.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have had to come here if you’d only behave decently! Why you have to sneak off to play the fool with pretty dolls ‒’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Jenny cried. She couldn’t bear to hear this harsh voice smearing something that was beautiful. ‘We love each other!’

  Laura stared at her, her mouth coming open. ‘What did she say?’ she demanded, turning to her husband.

  ‘Listen, Laura, it’s not what you think ‒’

  ‘We love each other,’ Jenny repeated, her conviction giving strength to the words.

  ‘Oh, do we?’ Laura sneered. She glared at Bobby. ‘Do we love each other, my dear? That’s something new, at any rate. The others were in it for the money, I suppose.’

  ‘The others?’ Jenny said faintly.

  Laura laughed; a hard, bitter sound. ‘You didn’t imagine you were the first, did you? I think you’re the fourth, although there may be others I haven’t known about. Oh, my poor child, my husband isn’t one to be mean with his favours. He even bestows them on me, from time to time. But presumably you “love each other” so much that you don’t care about his wife.’

  Jenny was scarlet with shame and humiliation. ‘I … I didn’t know … he was married.’

  How could she have been so foolish, so wickedly uncaring? She ought to have known ‒ a man of twenty-nine, in the service of the royal family ‒ of course he was married, the Queen and the Prince Consort preferred to have family men about them.

  But Bobby had never said a word that would raise such a thought, never given so much as a hint. He was great fun to listen to, with a store of anecdotes about royal circles and the work he did. He talked about himself a lot but the narration was always about something amusing that had happened, someone he had met, some foolish bureaucracy in the equerries’ office.

  But if the truth were told, they didn’t meet to talk. They met to make love. And the thought made her cheeks burn with self-condemnation. She had not thought to ask if Bobby had a wife ‒ and if she had, and he had told her about Laura, would it have made any difference?

  He had taught her to know desire. While he was away she dreamed about him ‒ but it was his touch, his caresses, that she remembered. The dreams always ended with the thought of herself in his arms again, his body moulded against hers, her soul taking wing as they reached their climax.

  She turned to him now, willing him to speak up for her, for their love. Surely he must feel as she did? That ecstasy they had shared must mean as much to him as to he
r.

  But no. Bobby was standing, hangdog, enduring until his wife’s anger should have spent itself.

  It was Laura who spoke into the pause. ‘Well, now you know. And so you can just put on your bonnet and shawl and take yourself off back to your mill.’

  ‘Don’t talk to me like that! You can’t order me about like a mere ‒’

  ‘Like a servant? What else are you? A paid servant, to come and give my husband an hour’s enjoyment ‒’

  ‘How dare you! I’ve never been paid ‒’

  ‘No?’ Laura gave her husband a glance of contempt. ‘Great heavens, you really are a cad, Bobby! You mean to say you’ve got this girl to bed without paying out a penny?’

  ‘Don’t!’ Jenny cried. It came out a strangled sob. ‘Don’t say things like that! I love him, and he loves me!’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Bobby doesn’t love anybody ‒ except himself. Isn’t that right, dear?’

  ‘Oh, come on, now, Laura, you’re being really rotten ‒’

  ‘How mean and selfish of me. I apologise.’ She nodded her head at Jenny. ‘Get out. And don’t come back.’

  ‘I won’t go!’ Jenny cried. ‘Bobby, tell her ‒’

  ‘Tell me what? That you share a great love and you’re willing to give up everything for each other? What do you expect him to do ‒ run off with you to France? Poor little idiot! Bobby isn’t going to give up one iota of his comfort for the likes of you ‒’

  ‘Laura … dear … I do wish you’d moderate your ‒’

  ‘You feel some concern for her, do you?’ His wife paused. ‘Maybe there is something more between you than I imagined … But that doesn’t make ‒’

  ‘She’s a nice child, Laura. She ‒’

  ‘She’s a hussy, and if she doesn’t leave here this minute I’ll go to the owner of the mill and get him to throw her out!’

  ‘I don’t work in a mill! My father is a master webster! How dare you talk to me as if I were nothing!’

  ‘Hoity-toity! So your father is a master of something or other, is he? And he brought up his daughter to be a mistress ‒ mistress of a double-dealing fool ‒’

  ‘You’re horrible,’ Jenny exclaimed. ‘You don’t care what you say. No wonder Bobby goes to other women if you ‒’

  Laura made a movement towards her. Bobby stepped between the two women, fearing literally that his wife would rend Jenny. He eyed her muff with alarm ‒ she might even have a knife in there. She was capable of anything. Her temper was awesome.

  ‘Now, now, Laura,’ he soothed. ‘Do try to calm down. You know you’ll only give yourself the headache. And tomorrow you’ll be in tears all day and sorry for what you’ve said.’

  ‘No I won’t! You’re the one that’ll be sorry!’

  ‘I am sorry, Lolly, I really am. I never meant you to find out. I can’t imagine how you come to be here in the first place.’

  ‘I knew you were going to see her. It was all in the way you were smiling to yourself. And when you said you were going on official business to Edinburgh I knew I’d find you here at Robbie’s place.’ She gestured with a gloved hand towards the window. ‘I’ve been sitting in a closed carriage across the square, watching the doorway. After she arrived I just gave you time to get comfortable with one another before I got the servant to let me in.’

  By making her explain herself, Bobby had brought some calm to the situation. Laura’s anger was ebbing a little, but not her determination to deal with the affaire.

  ‘You,’ she said, turning with a sweep of her crinoline towards Jenny, ‘take yourself off.’

  Jenny wasn’t even looking at her. Her gaze was on Bobby. ‘Bobby, explain to her ‒’

  ‘What is there to explain, girl? He’s a married man who likes to philander. The more fool you not to make any money out of him.’

  ‘Bobby, don’t let her spoil it like this ‒’

  ‘I’ll do worse than that. I’ll put you out of a job, I’ll see you never find anyone to take you on again ‒’

  ‘Now, now, Lolly, there’s no need for all this. Just let’s sort it out and clear it away ‒’

  ‘Clear it away?’ Jenny echoed. ‘End it between us, you mean? Just because she ‒’

  ‘I suppose you have some sort of reputation to preserve, haven’t you? If your father is a man of some worth, as you seem to imply? You’d better get out of this as fast as you can, or I’ll make your name mud ‒’

  All at once Jenny had had enough. ‘Be quiet!’ she said.

  ‘What?’ Laura Prentiss was astounded.

  ‘Be quiet! You come here and scream and shout and behave as if you were the Empress of Everywhere! Be quiet and behave like a decent woman.’

  ‘How dare you ‒’

  ‘Oh, I dare!’ Strength and determination had come into Jenny’s spirit. Taken by surprise at first, weighted down by guilt and shame, she had been utterly at a disadvantage. Moreover, her belief that Bobby loved her and would save her from this termagant had made her weak.

  But now she was strong. She saw that Bobby had deserted her. His love, if he had felt any, wasn’t proof against the righteous anger of his lawful wife. Very well, she would fight her own fight.

  And she would deal hardly with this woman who had wrecked her dream and, in doing so, had tried to grind her into the dust.

  ‘First of all, we’ll have everything out in the open,’ Jenny said. ‘I didn’t know Bobby was married. He never mentioned you.’

  ‘And I’m sure you took care never to ask him!’

  ‘It never occurred to me ‒’

  ‘The more fool you.’

  ‘I agree. I think I’ve been a fool from first to last. But not any more. I believed Bobby loved me and for that reason I was happy’ ‒ her voice trembled momentarily, but she recovered ‒ ‘I was happy just to exist so that I could come to him when he wanted me. Now I understand I was deceiving myself. I blame myself, but if you think I am going to let you blame me ‒ threaten me ‒ you’re mistaken.’

  Laura was frowning at her in perplexity. ‘You don’t speak like a mill girl …’

  ‘What I am is neither here nor there. What I can do is much more to the point. You threatened me. Let me return the favour. I threaten you.’

  Laura stared.

  Bobby said, ‘Oh, now, Jenny …’

  Jenny held up her hand. ‘Don’t say anything to me, Captain Prentiss. If you were going to say I ought to let your wife escape scot free after the things she’s said to me, save your breath.’

  ‘But Jenny ‒’

  ‘You made a fool of me!’ she burst out. ‘You took me like a silly little pigeon you saw in the sights of your gun! And your wife is just as bad ‒ she thinks that because I fell in love with you I must be a slut or a fool. Well, I’m neither.’

  ‘I think, young woman, you had better guard your tongue. Otherwise ‒’

  ‘Otherwise, what? You’ll hound me out of work, you’ll turn my friends against me? But you, of course, will take the train back to your fine friends in London and go on just as you did before, and your husband will pretend to be sorry and it will all be forgotten.’ Jenny shook her head with emphasis. ‘Oh, no. I can speak my mind too, you see. I can make things known to friends, I can say a word in the right ear so that someone else’s job might be in danger.’

  Laura looked her husband. ‘What does she mean? Is she mad?’

  To her surprise he wasn’t making reassuring gestures or giving a little smile of tolerance. Instead he was looking almost scared. ‘She’s talking about putting my career in danger,’ he groaned.

  ‘Your career? How could a common creature like this endanger ‒’

  ‘She’s met the Prince,’ said Bobby. ‘He took an interest in her. She could ‒ she just could ‒ get his attention.’

  ‘Don’t have any doubts on that score, Captain. I am, after all, a little Huguenot girl with whom His Highness discussed religion ‒ remember?’

  ‘Oh, lord,’ moaned the captain.

&n
bsp; ‘Met the Prince? What do you mean?’ Laura asked sharply. ‘How could such a girl as this meet the Prince?’

  ‘It’s too complicated to explain ‒’

  ‘All you need to know,’ Jenny interrupted, facing the other woman with cold antagonism, ‘is that I can threaten just as harshly as you. I can have your husband dismissed his post ‒’

  ‘What nonsense! You vain little liar ‒’

  ‘Laura, for God’s sake! Don’t speak to her like that! Can’t you see the harm you’re doing?’

  ‘No, she can’t see. She’s too blinded by her own self-importance.’ Jenny pointed at her. ‘Look at her ‒ just because she has money and position she thinks she can come here and ‒’

  ‘Listen, Jenny, you have to forgive her. She’s angry and upset ‒’

  ‘Don’t plead with that creature!’ Laura stormed. ‘Tell her to get out ‒’

  ‘I shall go,’ said Jenny, ‘when I’m ready. I at least was invited here by your precious husband. He certainly didn’t want you to come.’

  ‘Why, you ‒’

  ‘Jenny, Jenny,’ begged Captain Prentiss. ‘I understand you’re angry, I understand you feel I’ve let you down ‒’

  ‘How can you take her side?’ his wife broke in. ‘She’s a wicked, immoral slut and as if that isn’t bad enough she invents stories about the Prince Consort ‒’

  ‘It isn’t invention, Mrs Prentiss. You’re going to find that out. I’m going to write to the palace this very evening, to tell His Highness the kind of man he has on his personal staff ‒’

  ‘No, Jenny! No, please!’

  Laura stared from one to the other. She saw the angry determination on the girl’s face and the rank fear on her husband’s.

  ‘She could really do this?’ she said, on an indrawn breath.

  ‘She could indeed, and be listened to!’

  ‘It would be her word against yours.’

  ‘True enough, Mrs Prentiss. But my story would be very convincing and very damning. What do you think of this? Your husband took me straight from a conversation with the Prince Consort at Balmoral to an inn at Aboyne, where he seduced me ‒’