The Complete Ravenscar Trilogy: The Ravenscar Dynasty, Heirs of Ravenscar, Being Elizabeth. Barbara Taylor Bradford

looked at her alertly. ‘What is it? You seem suddenly very excited.’

      ‘I am. I’ve made a decision about something I’ve thought about for a while. I’m definitely going to do voluntary social work with my friend Fenella Fayne—’

      ‘The widow of Lord Jeremy Fayne?’

      ‘Exactly. She’s been a friend for years, and as I think I once told you she runs a women’s…shelter in the East End. I’ve always admired her work, and I want to do something useful with my life. There’s so much poverty and misery in London, greatest capital in the world though it might be. I simply can’t bear the discrepancy between the lives of the rich, and the desperate, miserable existence of the poor.’

      ‘I’m very happy you finally decided to make a move, you’ve been hankering after doing work like this for as long as I can remember.’ Lily gave her a warm loving smile, and reached out, took hold of her hand. ‘You’ve always wanted to make a contribution, and I think you’ll be wonderful at it. Fenella Fayne must be thrilled to have you.’

      Vicky began to laugh, looking embarrassed. ‘I haven’t actually told her yet, but she knows how interested I’ve been in her work, and for a long time. I plan to visit her next week, and volunteer my services.’

      ‘Stephen won’t mind, will he?’

      ‘I don’t think so, he understands that I’m…well, that I feel women should be able to make contributions if they wish to do so. He thinks I’m rather emancipated really, and he’s one of the few men I know who believes Mrs Pankhurst has the right idea…about women’s rights. Frankly, Lily, he’s proud that I am emancipated.’

      Lily nodded. ‘And you’re so right about the poverty in London. There are some terrible slums, such as Providence Place, and those ghastly tenements…they’re called rookeries, aren’t they?’

      ‘Yes. And the women who live there are beaten-down and desperate, poor, and frequently in ill health and often abused by their beer-swilling husbands. It makes my blood boil when I think about the wealth in England, and the selfishness of so many people who could help to make a few lives easier—’

      Vicky stopped and jumped up, went to the window, saw the carriage coming to a stop.

      ‘Oh, Lily darling, I think it’s my brother, with Ned, and, oh my heavens, Johnny Watkins. They’re earlier than I expected.’

      Amos Finnister settled himself at a corner table for four in the Mandarin Garden, the little Chinese restaurant which was his favourite in Limehouse. Six o’clock was early for him to eat his Sunday dinner, but Charlie had requested this time and so he had acquiesced.

      His thoughts settled on yesterday’s lunch with Neville Watkins and the other men. When he considered the information that had passed between them, the decisions made, he filled with a rush of genuine pleasure and satisfaction. Everything was coming together much faster and much better than he had anticipated it would.

      The medical records were in hand, the renowned doctor was studying them; Alfredo had produced valuable information about the Mining Division as well as the names of their allies within the company; and now, thanks to Charlie, he had two men whom he could use to tackle James Cliff, Jack Beaufield and Philip Dever. What the two actors were going to do was pose as gentlemen, as aristocrats, and they would reveal they had lethal information about the private lives of these three men. Information that would prove deadly to their lives and careers. Blackmail, in other words.

      Right on time as always, Charlie came hurrying into the restaurant. Amos glanced up, raised his hand in a wave.

      A moment later Charlie was sitting opposite him, a grin spreading across his handsome face.

      ‘Evening, Mr Finnister.’

      ‘Good evening, Charlie. Would you like a pot of this jasmine tea I’m having? It’s most refreshing.’

      ‘Indeed I would, sir. And thank you very much.’ Charlie sat back in the chair and glanced around the restaurant which was still relatively empty. ‘It appears we are the sole diners,’ he added.

      ‘Playing the toff this evening are we, Charlie?’ Amos asked with a wide smile. He was extremely fond of the young actor, and they had worked together on many projects, as Charlie was wont to call them. For ten years, at least.

      ‘I am the toff tonight, sir. Don’t forget I’m stuck with a posh part at the moment, so I try to keep my voice in character with the character, if you get what I mean. Makes my life easier.’

      ‘It’s quite extraordinary the way you assume such different voices, can flip from one accent to another,’ Amos remarked, giving him a thoughtful look. ‘You’re the best mimic I know, except for Maisie.’

      ‘Thanks, guv.’

      The waiter came hurrying to the table and at once Amos ordered jasmine tea and asked to see the menus, then he continued, ‘I think it’s a genuine gift, Charlie, your miraculous voice.’

      ‘Mebbe it is, mebbe it ain’t.’ Charlie grinned at Amos cheekily as he dropped with the greatest of ease into his native Cockney. ‘Fings ain’t wot they used ter be around ’ere, Mr F., so I’m off to America wiv me sister.’

      Startled by this sudden and unexpected announcement Amos sat up straighter in the chair, gazing at Charlie, an expression of disbelief on his face. ‘Well, I’ll be blowed! So you made your mind up to do it at last. She must be thrilled.’

      ‘She don’t know nuffin’ yet. Yer see, I ain’t told ’er nuffin’. It’s a surprise, guv.’

      ‘Very good, very good indeed, Charlie. I’m delighted you came to this decision, that you’re going to remove yourself from these shores. I shall miss you of course, but I think perhaps it’s…well, a wise move, shall we say?’

      ‘Wiv me sister by me side I think we can mek it big in America, Mr F., an’ we do ’ave a double act, yer knows.’

      ‘So you’ve told me, and I—’ Amos broke off when the waiter came scurrying back with the pot of jasmine tea and a cup on a tray, along with the menus. He gave these to Amos, poured the tea for Charlie and bowed low, then disappeared again.

      Once they were alone Amos leaned across the table and said in a much lower voice, ‘Is everything set for tomorrow?’

      Answering in his cultivated voice, Charlie murmured softly, ‘It is, Mr Finnister. Maisie has arranged to meet Aubrey Masters at the coffee shop in Shepherd’s Market. She will explain she’s going to be away for a week visiting her grandmother, and she’ll give him the going away present.’

      Amos simply nodded and reached into his pocket. A second later he placed a small packet on the table between them.

      Charlie eyed it, then picked it up and looked at it.

      ‘Purple paper. Very fancy.’ He slipped it into his pocket without further comment.

      ‘Maisie knows what to do with it?’ Amos gave him a penetrating stare.

      Charlie nodded. ‘She’s to mix it in with the grains and pods she’s giving him in the brown paper bag.’

      ‘Correct.’

      ‘What is it, by the way? What is it going to do to him.’

      ‘It’ll give him a loose bowel for a few days, keep him at home. Away from the office, which is the purpose of this exercise. And for your information it’s a mixture of dried herbs and seeds, that’s all.’

      ‘That’s awright then, innit,’ Charlie muttered. Now he pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. ‘Wiv these ’ere two lads yer won’t go wrong, guv.’

      Amos glanced at the paper. ‘Real names?’