Emily, look. Emily followed Helen's outstretched arm.
Ah, cousin James. He looks very handsome, doesn't he, she said.
No, I am not talking about my brother, I'm talking about the man next to him. Mr. Dirksen. He's so handsome.
Emily looked at him. Helen was right, he was the most handsome man in the room. Tall, dark and beautifully dressed in a blue tail coat with matching waistcoat and white trousers, he looked so noble.
James saw the two ladies and motioned for them to come over. Emily, I don't think you know Mr. Edward Dirksen?
No, indeed I do not. My pleasure sir, she said curtsying.
Edward took her hand and touched his lips with it. The pleasure is mine, he said. Miss Emily, James has told me a lot about you. He says your dancing is exemplary, would you do me the honor of adding me to your dance card?
Yes, sir, it would be a pleasure. I look forward to it. She noticed how Edward looked at her. It was the look her mother had told her about. When a man's eyes drop from your eyes to your chest, it's one thing, but when his eyes travel back again you know he is interested in you, she'd always said. And if her mother had known how women looked at men, she would have seen that Emily was more than interested in Mr. Edward Dirksen.
I am sorry to hear that your mother passed away recently, Edward said. Emily dropped her eyes to the floor. I see that I have upset you. I only mention it because the same thing happened to me, five months ago.
Emily looked up at him sympathetically. If he knew how she felt, he would understand why she sometimes didn't want to get out of bed. I am sorry to hear that. It is a terrible feeling isn't it?
Yes indeed it is. Perhaps I should have expected it at my age.
Why, sir?
I am twenty-nine, and I suppose the older you get, the more likely it is that your will lose your parents.
Ten years older than me, she thought. Interesting, why hasn't he got a wife? It isn't because of his looks, perhaps he has been too cautious and prospective wives had become tired of waiting for him. I think whenever it happens it is terrible.
Let us talk of something more pleasant, he said. May I tell you how extremely beautiful you are?
Thank you, sir. I am pleased you find me so. May I ask what you do for a living?
I am a gentleman. I support several good causes but mostly I am involved with a church group which helps people in need.
So you are rich, she said with a smile.
Yes I suppose you could say I am. My family owns an estate in Surrey called Cobham Hall. Perhaps you've heard of it?
Yes, I have been there. I am sure my father did some building work there. I used to go with him. It was in summer, maybe three years ago.
Yes that's it. I think the firm was called Lucas.
Then it was my father. I remember your house. Oh, it's very beautiful, and the gardens are fabulous.
My mother was the gardener, I'm afraid it doesn't look nearly as pleasant now.
They danced with each other, and he was very impressed by Emily's ability. She was light and graceful, and the sight of her smiling at him as her breasts wiggled made him feel excited. He already knew he wanted her.
Henry Lucas bit into one of the apples his daughter had brought him. It was the only one he had left, the others had all been stolen, as had the bread and butter. As the sweetness engulfed his palate, he closed his eyes and thought of his wife. When her pretty face rolled across his mind, he cringed at her last words. Look after our daughter. He hadn't, he was stuck in this place, leaving her to fend for herself.
Henry Lucas, are you in here? a voice shouted from the front of the cell he was sitting in with twelve other men.
He stood up and looked at the shaft of light coming in as the door opened.
I am, who wants me?
Come out here, the warder said, the keys on his belt swinging to and fro. Henry stepped out of the cell and fell to the ground as someone hit him on the skull from behind. He groaned and tried to get up, but a boot on his neck held him down.
You can go now, warden, the man said. Very kind of you to point him out to me, here's what we agreed. He handed the warden some money and the warden left them to it. He'd got his money and didn't care what happened to any of his prisoners. As far as he was concerned they were all criminals and deserved to die.
The man bent down and pulled Henry to his feet. He was a big man, probably a hired thug Henry thought. Henry sank to his knees again after the man hit him with force in the stomach. He groaned, resting on his hands and knees. Not finished yet, the man brought his knee down onto the back of Henry's head, flattening his face against the ground. As Henry looked along the ground, he saw the feet of another man standing in front of him.
Henry, how nice to see you again. I'm sure you're enjoying His Majesty's hospitality. Henry recognized the raspy voice. It belonged to Benjamin Harvie, the man he'd entrusted with the finances of his business before Harvie had robbed him. I hear you've been talking about me, to the constabulary. Well, I'm here to tell you to stop. Harive nodded to the big man who pulled Henry to his feet once more. He held him by the throat as Harvie continued. Stop talking to the constabulary about me or your daughter gets it, do you understand? The mention of his daughter drove Henry to kick out at Harvie, earning him a punch in the face from the thug. Teach him a proper lesson, then throw him back in the cell, Harvie said as he walked away. When the big man threw Henry back into his cell, some of the other prisoners wretched at the sight of him. Only one prisoner helped him, the Reverend Peter Wright.