Chapter 3 - Photo of Henry

Chapter Three

Both brothers cautiously made their way towards the cheerful voices in the drawing room. Henry tensed as he recognised Vernon’s voice laughing with his mother.

As they were about to enter, they were joined by Sebastian who looked less than impressed. Henry could tell that his father had combed his hair and put on a freshly laundered suit. He was trying to outclass Emilia’s old beau.

“I remember that!” Emilia exclaimed as they opened the door. “Oh, I was so young.”

Emilia and Vernon were sitting on the same settee with teacups in their hands. They were too close for all three of their likings.

“Oh, good.” Emilia smiled. “You’re here. Vernon, this is my husband, Sebastian. My eldest, James, and my youngest, Henry.” She gestured to each of them. “But you already know Henry, of course. I have three daughters also, but alas, they have married and left me!” Emilia giggled.

“You look ravishing for a woman who’s had five children. Really, really beautiful,” Vernon remarked. He then turned to look at Henry before shooting him a charismatic smile. “Henry, how are you m’boy? Dreaming in Italian yet? I, unfortunately, do. I fear I will replace my English with it soon enough.” He chuckled. Henry did not like his insistence at calling him ‘m’boy’.

Only Emilia laughed.

“Vernon was just reminding me of the mischief we got up to when we were in school. Before I came to London, of course.” Emilia seemed to sense the tension in the room.

“Was he now?” Sebastian asked, raising a disapproving brow.

“Oh, yes.” Vernon chuckled. “My Em was quite the rebel when we were children.”

Both Henry and James exchanged a knowing glance. That would set their jealous father over the edge.

“Your Em?” he repeated poisonously. “She is not, not will she ever be your Em. I am the only one who calls her that.” Sebastian moved swiftly to stand beside his wife. “And I think this visit is highly inappropriate. My Em has been married to me for thirty years. Your time has gone.”

Instead of Vernon feeling intimidated, he just laughed. Emilia, on the other hand, looked humiliated. Her cheeks were bright red and her hands were in fists on her lap.

“James,” Emilia growled. “Why don’t you and your father go upstairs and revise the financials or something. Now.” Sebastian attempted to put a hand on Emilia’s shoulder but she shrugged it off.

“Papa,” James breathed. “Let us go.”

Sebastian reluctantly turned away. “Watch him,” he whispered to Henry as he departed. Henry nodded. His father would no doubt be sleeping in another bedchamber that evening.

Once they were out of the room, Emilia began apologising. “I am so sorry, Vernon, honestly, I have never been so embarrassed in my life. I don’t know what came over him!”

Vernon shook his head. “Not at all, if I were your husband I’d be cautious of other men too. You are clearly the most beautiful being that man has ever beheld and he is desperate to hold on to you.”

Henry needed to make his presence known and engage in conversation so Vernon did not have an opportunity to charm his mother away from his father. He knew Emilia would never stray physically but there was no guarantee that he heart might not fall into Vernon’s hands.

“My father is only protective, Mr Shaw,” Henry said firmly as he took a seat on the settee opposite to his mother and Vernon. He poured himself a cup of tea and sipped it.

“Your father is a fool,” Emilia retorted. “A handsome fool at that, but still a fool if he thinks that an old friend coming to visit is any threat to us. I am sorry, Vernon, now what were we speaking about?”

“I think it was the time that we slipped old Mrs Harbord an apple that had a worm in it.” Vernon chuckled.

“Yes,” Emilia nodded. “And not ‘we’, that was ‘you’! You were the one that saw the worm burrow its way in. I was an innocent bystander.”

“Of course you were.” Vernon winked. “This really is a fine house, Em, you’ve done really well for yourself. I always knew you would hook someone rich. What with your beauty and all.”

Emilia’s face looked uncomfortable for a moment before she quickly disguised it. Henry knew it was because of the fact that she had hooked someone rich – her first husband – but it was not a good experience. She married Sebastian for love. “I am very lucky. I have a loving husband, healthy children and wonderful grandchildren. I couldn’t ask for more. And what of you? Have you never married?”

Vernon scoffed. “No, marriage is not the path for me.” Henry knew that blackmail and debauchery was Vernon’s path – that was the only way he could attract a woman. “And I’ve never seen myself as a father. But I suppose I am one in a way, I am a father of my cast and crew. They could not function without me. I help them in any way I can. I do not hold regular auditions, you see, I scout my stars, finding them in the smallest and dirtiest corners of Europe. I scoured Italy for my Elvira but none of the girls I saw had that spark that I wanted. And then I found her and now she is the talk of London.”

“Yes, I’ve heard her name spoken a few times. Ebony, isn’t it?”

“Terrible name, I know,” Vernon scoffed. “One thinks of charcoal when it is spoken.”

Emilia’s eyes shot to Henry before returning to Vernon. “I think it is quite pretty,” she offered.

“She told me she is named for the colour of her hair,” Henry interjected.

“That makes sense,” Emilia said.

“Nevertheless,” Vernon continued. “I wanted her to take a stage name – an Italian one as the original stars were all Italian, but she refused.”

“Wherever did you find her?” Emilia asked.

Henry was interested to find that out.

“I found her singing for loose change in the poorest little village in Suffolk two years ago. She looked about twelve but she told me she was eighteen. She had the purest operatic voice I’d ever heard and she had no idea of her real, raw talent. So I took her in, fed her and clothed her, I trained her myself and put her on the stage when she was ready. I’m a philanthropist really.” Vernon knew exactly how to convince people through conversation. Henry was almost convinced at his sincerity but he knew better.

He now knew three things about Ebony. One: she was named for the colour of her hair, which meant it was black at birth. Two: she was twenty years old. Three: she was from Suffolk. Henry wondered if she still had family there. Perhaps he could contact her parents to come and collect her. They wouldn’t want their daughter used and abused by a poisonous man.

“Well, Vernon, I am so happy your life has turned out so well. You always were very clever,” Emilia said sincerely.

“Would you like to come tonight? I have my own personal box that is always vacant as I’m constantly back stage but I’d be happy if you wanted to use it,” Vernon offered. “Perhaps afterwards I could entice you to stay and have a glass of champagne with me. Surely your husband deserves to sweat a bit.”

“As lovely as that sounds, Vernon, I’m not in the business of punishing my husband. He’s not comfortable with it and I really should stay home and talk with him. You are still taking Henry with you, though?”

“Of course.” Vernon nodded. “How was last night, Henry? Did it surprise you?”

“There were many surprises,” Henry nodded, wondering if Vernon understood the double meaning.

“I suppose we should go then,” Vernon said, standing up from the settee. “Have you everything you need before we go, Henry?”

“No,” he replied. “Excuse me a minute.” He quickly exited the drawing room and slipped down the servant’s staircase that was hidden off the main hallway. Making his way quickly down the narrow corridor he came to the delicious smelling kitchen where Mrs Norris, and the kitchen maids were preparing dinner. Henry was sorry he was missing it. “Mrs Norris,” he said, knocking on the door.

The kitchen maids jumped and dropped their utensils as they stared at him. It wasn’t often that a member of the family was seen down in the kitchen.

“Pardon me, ladies,” Henry said awkwardly.

“Master Henry,” Mrs Norris said. “One moment.” She disappeared for a minute to retrieve his satchel and the sandwiches and cakes that she’d made for him to take. She returned with the black cloth bag and handed it to him. “I hope they’re enjoyable, milord.”

“I’m sure they will be, Mrs Norris, thank you,” he said gratefully. “Good afternoon,” he said to the kitchen maids.

Henry quickly scampered up the servant’s staircase and exited the secret passageway at the foyer where Vernon and Emilia were waiting for him.

“What were you doing down there?” Emilia asked.

“Getting something to eat,” he lied quickly.

Emilia arched an eyebrow as she saw through Henry’s lie easily. Mothers had a way of doing that. She eyed the satchel that he held but she didn’t press the issue after all. “Alright. Enjoy your evenings, and it was lovely to see you, Vernon.”

“You too, Miss Wentworth,” Vernon said comically as he shot Emilia a wink.

Emilia didn’t find it amusing. “I’ve been a very happy Mrs Alcott for a long time now, Vernon,” she warned.

“Alright, alright.” Vernon chuckled. He leaned over and place a kiss on Emilia’s cheek. “Until we meet again,” he said wistfully before departing Ethridge Manor.

“Good luck with your lady, darling. Think first, speak second,” she advised.

Henry rolled his eyes and followed Vernon out of the house. The fact that his entire family knew how inept he was to talking to members of the opposite sex.

Vernon’s carriage was not as fine as the few that Ethridge owned. It appeared to be one that he had hired for the duration of his stay in London. The driver opened the door for Vernon and Henry and both men climbed inside.

“You did not tell me how well your mother had aged, Henry,” Vernon commented casually. “And one could not believe she has birthed five children.”

Henry didn’t like it one bit. Everything about the man was slimy. “My father thinks so,” he replied.

“Your father is a bit of a hothead.” Vernon chuckled. “And Em always did like the dashing, debonair types. I wonder what changed.”

“Please do not disrespect my father,” Henry asked politely. “He is a very selfless man with a lot of influence in this town. He is also a Lord.”

“Of course, m’boy, he is your father, I should not say such things,” Vincent apologised. “It was good to see my old friend after all these years. But now it’s time to get back to work. The young Queen is attending tonight so everything must be perfect.”

Henry held onto the satchel tightly. He touched his right jacket pocket to see if the rose from the previous night was still in there. He was determined to give it to Ebony.

The theatre was abuzz with preparations when Vernon and Henry arrived. The sets were already on stage and the beautifully painted backdrops were being secured. Programs were being set on the seats and the balconies were all being vigorously cleaned even if they were spotless to begin with. On stage, the two male leads, the tenor and the baritone were warming up their voices. Henry still could not believe men could sing the way they could. Perhaps it was because Henry, himself, could not hold a tune. Hymns in church were embarrassing enough.

“Alright, that’s all wrong,” Vernon groaned as he looked to the stage. Henry couldn’t see anything but obviously Vernon could. “It’s all wrong. Are you alright to amuse yourself while I fix that blasted set?” Vernon didn’t wait for Henry’s reply as he set off toward the stage. Someone was in trouble. But Henry was glad to be alone.

He headed straight for the stage door, the one that Vernon had taken him through the previous night. Walking down the long corridor and past the stage, he came to the dressing rooms that housed the stars of I puritani. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on Ebony’s door three times. After a moment, the door was opened by a woman who was not Ebony. She was a pretty, young woman, with flaming red hair and brilliant, green eyes. She was not very tall, yet she had a beautiful hourglass figure. Around her neck was a measuring tape which indicated that she had to be one of the seamstresses. The only imperfection she had was a swollen cheekbone which was bruising. Someone had hit her.

“Ellen, who is it?” Ebony asked from inside.

Henry remembered her name. Ellen was the one who had given Ebony some food and now she had been struck. Vernon had to be the one responsible. He forced women into his bed, he manipulated and blackmailed and now he was violent. This man deserved to be hung, drawn and quartered.

“I don’t know,” Ellen replied. “Who are you?”

“Henry Alcott, ma’am,” Henry replied. “I visited with Ebony last night.”

Ellen raised her eyebrows and looked at Henry with a frown. Henry realised how she had taken his statement. He’d put his foot in it once again.

“No, I mean I met her, I didn’t do anything with her … I just …” Henry was sweating and praying for Ellen to just let him in so he didn’t have to say anything else on the matter. Instead, Ebony joined him at the door. Once again she was half dressed, but in the way that her dress hadn’t been laced and was hanging off of her. Her untameable curls were tied away from her face with a ribbon.

Ebony did not look happy to see him. “What are you doing here?” she snapped.

“I’ve brought something for you,” he said, holding up the satchel.

“I don’t want it,” she retorted. “Goodbye.”

“Let the poor boy in,” Ellen said, sympathising with Henry. “What harm will it do?”

Ebony scoffed. “What harm? Look at your face, Ellen. He said he’d let me see her in a fortnight if I behave so I’m doing just that. Having a strange man in my dressing room is exactly the opposite.”

Another clue. What Vernon held over Ebony was something to do with a woman … or perhaps it was a child. Her child? Was Ebony a mother? No, she was too young to be a widow already. Perhaps she was not a widow and the child had been born out of wedlock. He was speculating. Perhaps the woman was her mother or grandmother. There were numerous possibilities.

“He never has to know. He has a present for you, just let him in,” Ellen insisted.

Ebony conceded and nodded before allowing Henry entry. Her dressing room was filled with dresses and gowns. It was far messier than the night before.

“What is going on in here?” Henry asked.

“Ebony’s waist has shrunk another inch so I’m taking everything in,” Ellen replied. “You should eat a bit more so you don’t create so much work for me.”

Ebony pouted. “It’s not worth the risk. But we can’t talk like this in front of him,” she said quietly, looking at Henry cautiously. “He’s one of Vernon’s friends. Do you report any misconduct back to him?” Ebony asked angrily.

“I’m not Mr Shaw’s friend, Miss Seaver,” Henry murmured. “I want to help you.”

Ebony looked suspicious. “Why?”

He remembered his mother’s advice. He was thinking and filtering anything embarrassing that could be said. Because I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I haven’t ever been attracted this much to a woman. Your rebuttal is somewhat encouraging. I’d do anything to see you smile. “Because that is what I do,” Henry replied, deciding on the safest reply. “For work,” he elaborated. “I’m a solicitor. I make sure that people are given fair deals and are without wanting.”

Ebony did not speak for a moment. “If you are not Vernon’s friend then why are you with him?”

“He and my mother are old friends,” Henry replied.

“Your mother chooses her friends poorly.”

“Don’t I know it.” Henry scoffed.

Ebony laughed and it was the first time Henry had seen her face relax and appear natural. Her smile left dimples in her cheeks and the skin beside her eyes crinkled in an adorable way. “Alright.” She nodded. “What do you have in there?”

Henry opened the satchel and brought out the sandwiches and cakes that Mrs Norris had wrapped in cloth for him. The scents of the freshly baked cakes let off a sweet aroma in the room. “I’ve brought you some food,” he said and set it on her dressing table beside her powders and perfumes. “Granted I didn’t make it, but our cook is one of the best in London.”

Ebony froze as she stared at the food that Henry was unwrapping. “Get that out of here!” she exclaimed. She seized one of the glass scent bottles and scented her wrists and her neck. “Can you smell it?” she asked Ellen. “If he smells it I won’t ever see her!”

“But you are hungry,” Henry insisted. “I thought you might like it.”

Ebony’s face softened. “It was very thoughtful,” she said sincerely. “But if you had what I have at stake, then you would never take such a risk. I’m glad you are not friends with Vernon but you should stay away from this place. Trust me, I’m leaving just as soon as Vernon’s found another star and he loses interest in me.”

“Then let me help,” Henry insisted. “Who is the woman that you want to see? I could find her for you.”

“She’s kept hidden for a reason. That way he can control me. If ever he learns that we even had this conversation she would be gone and I would never see her again. Please, I want you to go. Don’t ever come back. Continue to be a solicitor and help people, that’s a wonderful thing to do. But sometimes people are beyond help.” Ebony rewrapped the food and placed it back inside his satchel before handing it back to him. “Thank you.”

Henry accepted the satchel and felt awful for taking it but he knew the consequences would be worse if she were caught with it. He didn’t know what he would do if he had walked in and seen a bruise on Ebony’s cheek. Before he left he pulled the rose from inside his jacket. The stem looked a little dehydrated but the flower was still perfect. “Here,” he said, offering it to her. “A rose for a rose.”

Ebony accepted the flower, offering Henry a small smile. “Thank you. I’m grateful that I do not have to untangle it from my hair this time.”

“You are wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?” Ebony asked.

“Nobody is beyond help.”

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I hope you liked it!

Photo on the side is how I imagine Henry to look :) I fell in love with Ben Barnes when I saw Prince Caspian at the movies when I was about 13/14 ... he was my background on my computer for so long!

Anyways - next update will be Wednesday ish as I have work all day tomorrow and then my classes. Exams are also coming up so I'm going to be moving into study mode :P

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