Chapter Fourteen #2
She had expected to feel a deep, unrelenting embarrassment to have Will see the terrible self-inflicted fate of her father, but his non-judgmental attitude put her at ease, even in this awful place.
‘Let me see,’ Warden Fry said. He was a man who revelled in his power over his little kingdom.
He flicked through the pages of the ledger on his desk until he came across the right page.
‘Here we are. Account settled last month on the sixteenth. Since then there has been multiple charges added.’ He spun the book round and placed his finger under the amount.
Amelie felt her mouth go dry. It was almost everything she had.
‘Then I am sure you will want to pay for another month of superior lodgings. Or I can arrange for your father to be thrown into the communal cell with the other destitutes. There is a nasty bout of gaol fever there at the moment, but…’ He shrugged, as if matters were out of his hands.
Amelie reached into her purse and took out all the coins except the one she needed to pay the lad who would take her up to her father’s room. She laid it on top of the ledger.
‘This is what I have,’ she said, forcing herself to meet Warden Fry’s eye.
Slowly he counted it out, his tongue darting over his thin lips, making Amelie feel nauseous.
‘Do you wish me…?’ Will began to murmur in her ear but she cut him off with a quick shake of her head. He had already done so much. She could take charity when it was on behalf of her innocent sisters and brother, but she did not want him to pay for her father’s sins.
Warden Fry entered the amount she had handed over in the ledger and then shut it with a satisfied thump.
‘I can keep your father in his current room, on basic rations for another few weeks, but I suggest you bring what is owed next time or he will begging from the communal cell within the month.’
‘Thank you,’ Amelie said, trying to force a smile, but she was certain it came out as a grimace.
‘Arthur!’ Warden Fry shouted, making her jump.
A young lad with a filthy face and ragged clothes appeared almost immediately, skulking into the room, sticking to the edges as if he didn’t want to be seen.
‘Take Amelie and her guest up to see Mr Somersham.’
Without even looking at her, the boy held out his hand and Amelie pressed the last coin she had into his palm.
They silently left the warden’s room and crossed the courtyard.
Amelie tried not to meet anyone’s eye. She was alwayd overcome with a horrible bout of melancholy after leaving the Fleet.
She hated seeing people so desperate, at their very lowest point.
Most of the inmates were men of various ages, but some were allowed to keep their wives and children in the rooms they paid for.
It was a miserable existence, and Amelie had vowed after visiting her father for the first time that Marie, Harriet and Charles would never end up staying in the dank, disease-ridden prison.
She glanced across at Will who was doing a good job of keeping his expression completely neutral. For all anyone could have told from his face, he could have been listening to a debate in parliament or talking with a slightly dull debutante at a ball.
Again she wondered what she was doing, bringing him here.
It had not been necessary at all. She could have told him about her father’s debts and his incarceration; there had been no need to bring Will to see the sordid truth of it.
But her plan to shock him, to try to push him away, wasn’t working.
He looked calm, accepting, as if he walked through the filth of debtor’s prison all the time.
Amelie closed her eyes momentarily. There could be nothing between Will and her—they had agreed that after that kiss in the garden—yet the attraction that swelled between them was undeniable.
She felt torn, confused, and through it all there was Will, standing stoical and unwavering, seemingly unperturbed by the mess her family was in even as she threw more and more at him.
They climbed a short spiral staircase to the first floor and the boy left them outside her father’s door.
It was not locked. Because of the fees she paid, her father was lodged in a shared room with access to the courtyard below.
It meant he could stretch his legs and do laps of the yard in the fresh air.
The most desperate of the debtors kept in the Fleet were held in a communal cell—the same communal cell Warden Fry had threatened to put her father in.
It was a dark pit, the floor covered in straw to soak up the excrement that built up inside.
People in there had no chance to walk around the courtyard, and most never left after they had entered.
Gaol fever was rife in those terrible conditions, and those who did not succumb to the fever often starved.
These were the prisoners who stretched out their hands through the bars that led onto the street, begging for food, knowing the only way they would survive another day was if someone charitable passed by and handed them a crust of bread.
Amelie knocked, feeling a rush of mixed emotions as she heard her father’s voice calling for her to enter.
‘Amelie, my darling girl. I thought you had forgotten about your dear old papa. It has been weeks since you last visited,’ he admonished her, although he kept his tone cheerful.
His eyes flicked to Will, taking in his impeccably tailored suit, smart, shiny shoes and perfectly laundered shirt.
She felt her heart sink as she saw the predatory look in his eyes as he swung his legs off his narrow bed and stood.
‘Excuse my manners, I did not realise we had company. It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.’
Will took her father’s proffered hand and Amelie realised she had made a big mistake, bringing Will in here.
She should just have told him about her father’s predicament instead.
She might have thought to shock him, to scare him away from her, but she had not fully considered the consequences—one of which was Will actually meeting her father.
‘Are you not going to introduce us, my dear?’
‘Father, this is Lord Beescroft, Duke of Ashmead. Your Grace, this is my father, Mr Somersham.’
‘My lord,’ he said, shaking Will’s hand vigorously. ‘What an unexpected delight. Please take a seat, although I cannot offer you much in the way of hospitality. I am a man brought low by circumstance, alas, and you find me not as I once was.’
There was only one chair in the room, and her father gestured to it, but Will held up a hand.
‘I am quite comfortable standing. You take it, Amelie.’
Amelie sank down onto the chair and regarded her father.
He was paler and thinner than when she had last seen him, his hair grown longer.
Despite this, he was reasonably well-groomed, with his hair combed and his face cleanly shaven.
She wondered how he managed to shave in such a place but did not want to waste her questions on such triviality.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Your Grace?’ Amelie’s father asked, his attention still entirely on the Duke.
Amelie felt the familiar sting of disappointment.
Her father had never been very interested in her or her brother and sisters.
The only person he had ever valued more than himself was Amelie’s mother.
When she had died, the selfish streak had intensified, and it was as if he often forgot about his family apart from what they might be able to provide for him.
‘I was concerned about your daughter’s welfare. I did not want her visiting any less salubrious areas of London on her own.’
Mr Somersham’s eyes flicked between Amelie and Will and Amelie could have sworn her father had to keep himself from rubbing his hands together in glee.
‘I have to enquire—as Amelie’s father, you understand—as to what your interest is in my daughter.’
‘She is in my employ,’ Will said simply, his matter-of-fact tone stopping any further questioning.
‘How have you been these past few weeks, Father?’ Amelie asked, eager to change the subject before her father started pressing Will for money.
‘Awful. Half the prisoners have died in the last month from gaol fever. I am meant to share this room but the man in here with me was carted away three days ago. They have reduced me to the most paltry amount of terrible food. Really, Amelie, you need to ensure the warden is paid.’
‘I have paid him today, although most of what I gave him was to settle the bill for the last few weeks.’