Nettie’s Secret. Dilly Court

      She met his angry gaze with a smile. ‘I’m not a child, Byron. I can look after myself, and I’ve been taking care of my father ever since I can remember.’ She took the visiting card from her reticule and handed it to him. ‘I didn’t tell you or Pa, but Duke Dexter was on board the ferry. I met him by chance and he gave me this card. I went to investigate.’

      Byron studied it. ‘This says Marc Gaillard. Who is this person?’

      ‘It’s Duke using an alias.’ Nettie glanced at the bare table beneath the skylight. ‘Have we anything to eat? I’m starving.’

      ‘Nothing, I’m afraid. I haven’t eaten all day.’

      ‘Have you any money?’

      ‘I’ve got enough to buy us a meal tonight, but after that I’m broke. I tried to find work again today, but there was nothing.’

      ‘We need to catch my father before he spends what little he has left, and I have something to tell Pa. He won’t like it and neither will you, but I don’t think we’ve any alternative other than to ask Duke for help. I’ve arranged for us to meet him at the gallery tomorrow morning.’

      ‘Is that wise, Nettie? Dexter is nothing but trouble.’

      ‘And we’re fugitives from the law with little or no money, and no prospect of earning anything legally – unless you can come up with a brilliant solution, Byron, because I can’t think of anything.’

      He slumped down on the rickety chair. ‘This is the time when I wish I knew how to find my mother’s family. The life of a water gypsy is becoming more and more attractive.’

      Nettie eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Have you made enquiries?’

      ‘What’s the point? It’s over twenty years since my mother ran away from her bullying father. I expect the old man’s dead or in prison, from what my father told me about him. She had a brother, but I doubt if he’d want anything to do with me.’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Nettie said, giggling. ‘If you find them and tell them you’re wanted by the Metropolitan Police for aiding and abetting a criminal, they’ll probably welcome you with open arms.’

      ‘I’m glad you think it’s funny.’ Byron spoke severely, barely disguising a chuckle. He rose to his feet. ‘If we can persuade your father to forgo wine this evening, I’ve just enough money for two bowls of soup and two cups of coffee. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.’

      As Nettie wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and picked up her one decent bonnet, she could not help thinking of Constance living in her grand house. If only she had eaten more of the delicious cake that had been served with the coffee, she might not feel so weak and lightheaded now, but she had not wanted to appear greedy.

      ‘I’m coming,’ she said stoutly. ‘And I suggest that we go for a walk along the river bank after we’ve eaten. If we make enquiries we might find someone who remembers a family of bargees who had a daughter called Lisette.’

      They found Robert at the café, and, as usual, he was the centre of attention, chatting volubly in English, regardless of whether his audience could understand him or not. He illustrated his life story with charcoal sketches, and Nettie was horrified to see that he had used up almost a whole pad. Paper was expensive and charcoal was not cheap, but he was using it as if the supply was inexhaustible and free.

      Nettie waited for the audience to disperse before she sat down next to her father and told him how she had met Duke on board ship. Robert studied the visiting card and tossed it back at her.

      ‘Marc was a fool,’ he said casually. ‘I knew him well, but he was no businessman. He loved art but he would have been bankrupt if Duke had not taken him in hand. I know now that Dexter is a crook, but he’s a clever fellow.’

      ‘Not so clever that he didn’t get found out.’ Byron emptied his pockets of money and laid it on the table. ‘This is all I have left, Mr Carroll. What about you?’

      Robert leaned forward, putting his finger to his lips. ‘Not so loud, boy. I’m travelling incognito. My name is not unknown, even in Paris.’

      ‘I doubt if the people here are very interested in art,’ Nettie said hastily. ‘Anyway, Pa, I’ve arranged for us to meet Duke at the gallery in the morning.’

      Robert sat back in his chair, a stubborn look masking his handsome features. ‘I’m not going.’

      ‘But, Pa, we need help. Can you think of any other way to raise money, or to find alternative accommodation? Madame will throw us out the moment she discovers we can’t pay next week’s rent.’

      ‘Do you want me to spend the rest of my life working for that criminal? I believed in him, Nettie, and he betrayed my trust.’

      ‘I’m just trying to keep us from ending up in the gutter,’ Nettie said angrily.

      Robert eyed Byron with a calculating smile. ‘You’re a strong young chap, surely you can find work, even if it isn’t scribbling away in a lawyer’s office.’

      ‘I’ve been trying,’ Byron snapped, ‘which is more than I can say for you, Mr Carroll.’ He snatched up a pile of discarded sketches. ‘Is this what you’ve been doing all day? Have you spent all your money on drinking with your friends?’

      ‘Well, I was hoping to sell some of my work,’ Robert said sulkily. He put his hand in his pocket and produced a handful of coins, which he threw onto the table. ‘Here, this is all my worldly wealth. Spend it on food and tomorrow we’ll go hungry.’

      ‘Tomorrow we’ll go cap in hand to Duke Dexter and ask for his help. It’s that or we end up on the streets, Pa.’ Nettie snatched up the money and handed it to Byron. ‘Is there enough for a decent meal?’

      ‘Soup and bread all round,’ he said, signalling to a waiter.

      ‘And a bottle of cheap red wine,’ Robert pleaded. ‘I must have something to calm my shattered nerves.’

      ‘No, Pa. We’ll ask for water. I don’t think there’s even enough for coffee.’

      Robert buried his head in his hands. ‘What have I come to?’

      Madame was standing outside the door to her quarters when they returned to their lodgings, and she started shouting at them before they reached the top step. Even though Nettie could not speak her language, the woman’s meaning was obvious. Byron waited until she slammed the door to her apartment, but his translation was quite unnecessary.

      ‘Amongst other things she said we’re to be out of here first thing in the morning, unless we can find the rent, in which case she wants two weeks’ money in advance. I don’t think the good lady trusts us.’

      ‘I wonder why,’ Nettie said grimly. ‘It looks as if she has our measure.’

      Robert shrugged. ‘Don’t worry, my love. Duke will give me the money. He owes me some recompense for the trouble he’s caused us.’ He sauntered off in the direction of the stairs.

      ‘I don’t know how you’ve stood him all these years,’ Byron said, shrugging. ‘Your dad is impossible.’

      ‘I agree, but at least he’s come round to the idea of asking Duke Dexter for help. I can’t see any other way out of this predicament. Let’s hope tomorrow brings us better luck than today.’

      The gallery was in the fashionable rue de Rivoli, but when they arrived at just after nine o’clock next morning they found it closed and shuttered. They waited for an hour, pacing up and down outside, but no one appeared.

      ‘I’ll have more than a few words to say to Duke when I next see him,’ Robert said angrily. ‘It was a bad day for me when I fell in with that fellow.’

      ‘Something must have happened, Pa.’ Nettie glanced up and down the street, but there was no sign of him. ‘I think we ought to visit