From Rags to Kisses by Shana Galen
IV
“Oy!” Jenny spun around, leaving the rotting produce in the bin behind her and crouching, ready for battle. “I ‘ave a message for ye.”
Jenny pointed to her chest.
“No. ‘Im.” The publican pointed to Aidan. She glanced at Aidan, tall and lanky with a mop of dark hair and eyes so dark sometimes even she had trouble reading his expression. But she had no trouble now. He looked wary.
“We’re just looking for scraps,” he said defensively. “If we don’t take it, the dogs will.”
“This isn’t about the rubbish,” the publican said. “I got a message for ye. From a nob.”
Aidan’s brow lowered, and he glanced at Jenny. She shrugged. She didn’t know any nobs. But Aidan always said his father was a lord. The Earl of Cranbourne, he said. She didn’t doubt him, but she didn’t exactly believe him either.
“Wot’s the message?” Jenny asked because Aidan seemed frozen, and the silence had gone on too long.
“The nob says come to Cranbourne ‘Ouse. Yer uncle wants to see ye.” The publican went back inside, leaving Aidan and Jenny alone in the stinking yard with the rubbish.
“Yer uncle?” she said, finally. “Is that the earl now?”
He nodded. “When my father died, my mother tried to reach him, but he wouldn’t see her. We went to the house, but his servants turned us away. She even went to his solicitor’s office, but...” His cheeks colored, and she knew whatever had happened had mortified the young boy.
“Why does ‘e want to see ye now?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Are ye going?”
“I don’t know.”
Fear gripped her. She didn’t want him to go. If he went to this Cranbourne House, she’d lose him. She knew that without any doubt whatsoever. Aidan had never belonged in the rookeries. He’d always been destined for more. Now was his chance. She should be happy for him. But she was selfish. She didn’t want to lose him.
For days, he said nothing of the message, and the two of them went on as they always did. But she should have known that wasn’t the end of it. She wasn’t the kind of girl who got happy endings.
Two or three weeks after that night under the bridge—the night when he’d told her he loved her, when he’d said he would never leave—Aidan had looked at her, and she knew what he would say. “I have to go see my uncle,” he said.
“No, ye don’t,” she argued. “Ye can stay ‘ere. ‘E’ll never find ye. If ‘e could, ‘e wouldn’t ‘ave left word at the pub.” He’d left word at several pubs and a number of publicans had passed on the message now.
“Jenny,” Aidan said softly. “I want to see my uncle.”
It was dark and they were lying on the banks of the Thames, looking up at the few stars they could see. The night was warm, but they’d been lying close together, listening to the lapping water and the distant sounds of taverns and ships on the river.
She turned her head sharply. “Why? All those years ago, ‘e didn’t want to see ye.”
“He wants to now. Maybe he wants to take me in. Maybe he’ll give me money.”
“Yer that eager to leave me?” She sat and hugged her knees.
“I’m not leaving you.” Aidan wrapped his arms around her from behind. “This is for both of us. Jenny, I love you.” He kissed her neck, sending ripples of sensation down her skin. “I’ll never leave you.”
She looked back at him, and he took her face and kissed her gently. The kiss turned deeper and then they were lying together, hands under clothes, Aidan touching her in that way that made her gasp and cry out. When he fell asleep afterward, she turned her head away and cried. She knew this was the end.
The next day, he went to see his uncle. It hurt to watch him try and slick his hair back and out of his eyes, to tug his too-short trousers down so his ankles weren’t visible. It hurt to know he wanted to make a good impression for someone other than she. When he left, she didn’t tell him good-bye or wish him good luck. She went to her treasure room and sat there all day, but even her trinkets hadn’t made her feel better.
He found her there that evening, coming in to sit beside her. Wordlessly, he handed her bread and cheese. “That’s for you,” he said. “I already ate my fill at Cranbourne House.”
But suddenly Jenny didn’t feel hungry. She placed the food down beside her and wrapped her arms around her knees. “ ‘E saw ye then?”
“He did. He was...kind.”
She glanced at him because his voice was different somehow. It was full of wonder.
“He said he hadn’t known about me or my mother until recently. My father’s solicitor never told him. But that man died, and when he hired another, that new man went through the ledgers and papers and informed him he had a nephew. Me.” Aidan looked up at the dark ceiling. “He’s been looking for me for months now.”
“So yer leaving then,” she said.
“Jenny.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t say that.”
“Ye don’t ‘ave to.”
“He told me he wants to help me—help us.”
“Ye told ‘im about me?”
“Yes. I told him all about life here, and he said he wants to buy me a commission in the army.”
She jerked her head to look at him. “The army? A redcoat?”
He nodded. “I would be an officer. I’d be trained and be given food, lodging, and a monthly salary.”
“Ye’d have to go to France and kill Frenchies.”
He sighed. “I might, but he also said to start I’d be quartered in England. I could travel the country. Soldiers are welcomed in most towns. They’re invited to balls and dinners—”
“Dinners? Sounds like yer mind is made up. When do ye leave?”
“My mind isn’t made up. I don’t want to leave you, Jenny.”
She shrugged, causing his hand to slide off her shoulder. “I can’t join the army. They don’t allow women.”
“I asked my uncle about that. I told him I couldn’t leave you here alone.”
“Rubbish.” She stood. “Ye ‘ave to look out for yerself. ‘Ave I taught ye nothing all these years?”
“Jenny!” Aidan grasped her hand and held her in place. “He offered to help you too.”
She stilled, willing her heart to stop pounding with hope. “Why would ‘e want to ‘elp me?”
“Because I asked him to.”
“And wot did ‘e say?”
Aidan didn’t answer right away. He paused a long time, and then he took in a breath. “He said he would find a place for you in his household. You could work for him, for my family. You’d be safe and well-paid and—”
“A place in the ‘ouse’old? A servant?”
“Yes, a maid. You could work your way up from scullery maid to—”
“Ye want me to scrub floors and privies for yer uncle?”
Aidan stood, ducking slightly because the ceiling here was low. “It’s a start, and it’s only for a few years. Once I make my name in the army, I’ll come back and marry you. You can set up your own house and—”
Jenny pushed Aidan back while he called her name, she crawled out of the old wine cellar and ran out into the night.
***
SHE HID FROM HIM THATnight and the next day. Anger burned inside her. Anger and shame. She had taken him in when he was all but dead on the street. And now he wanted her to scrub floors for him, to bow and scrape and say, yes, my lord. He’d never loved her. He looked down on her. She was beneath him. She knew it, had always known it. Maybe being his servant was her rightful place, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear it.
He finally found her on the roof when she decided to let him find her because she wasn’t a coward. She could face him. As soon as he stepped into view, she said, “I won’t do it.”
His shoulders slumped. “Then I won’t go. I’m not leaving you.” He came to sit beside her, their feet dangling over the edge of the roof.
“Ye’ll go,” she said, not looking at him. “Ye were always meant to go.”
“So were you!”
“No. I was born ‘ere, and I’ll die ‘ere.”
“Jenny—”
She jumped to her feet. “Aidan, I don’t want yer pity or to be yer servant. From the day ye arrived, ye were looking for a way out. I was only looking to get through each day, but ye—” She shook her head. “Ye wanted a job. Ye wanted to save yer blunt. Ye wanted security and something better out of life. Ye taught me ‘ow to read and do sums and then take the numbers away again—”
“Subtract.”
“Yes! And ye get up and spout poetry to distract people when I snatch goods from their stalls.”
“It was a soliloquy actually, not poetry.”
“Yer just proving my point.”
His shoulders slumped again, and she sat beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“I promised I’d never leave you.”
“It’s not the first lie I’ve been told.”
He looked at her, his gaze pleading. “Please come with me.”
“Or ye can stay ‘ere. With me,” she said.
He blew out a breath. “I’m offering you a chance—”
“To scrub floors and empty chamber pots? No. Just go. I’m better off without ye. My life will be easier without ‘aving to look after ye and listen to ye whine about yer empty belly.”
He flinched back, and she knew she’d hurt him. Good. Because he was tearing her heart out.
“You don’t mean that.”
She rose and stalked toward the chimney where he’d once kissed her so passionately. “I do. I felt sorry for ye all these years, but I’ve been thinking I’d be better off on my own for a while now.”
“Jenny, don’t do this. I love you.”
“That’s yer loss. Ye’ll find another chit to love. One who doesn’t ‘ave to steal and beg and sleep under bridges. Will ye go already? I told ye, I’m done with ye.”
He stared at her. “I know you don’t mean this.”
She rolled her eyes. “Think wot ye want.”
“I’ll be back for you. When I make a name for myself. I’ll come back with fame and fortune, and I’ll take you out of here.”
“Ye’ll be shot and die on a battlefield in France,” she said, voice hard and cold. “Think I care?”
“I’ll leave you everything,” he said. “I’m taking only what’s on my back.”
She shrugged, pretending tears weren’t stinging her eyes. She couldn’t let him see her cry, couldn’t let him know she cared. There would be time for that later. Plenty of time to curse him and herself for ever believing he loved her.
“Good-bye, Jenny,” he said. She flicked a wrist at him and went back to sitting on the edge of the roof. After a time, he came out of the door below and walked away, toward Mayfair.
He never even once looked back.