Dangerous Decisions (29 page)

‘Thank God! Is she unharmed?'

‘We are hoping so,' Helena said. ‘At least she is safely home.'

Nicholas felt a stab of compassion as the woman sank into a nursing chair and buried her face in her hands. Helena said, ‘Betsy, I shall need a bath to be prepared for her.'

‘Yes, Madam. Oh, I'm so pleased she's back.'

‘Thank you. Nanny, I can understand your being upset, but perhaps you and Betsy could leave while Dr Carstairs carries out his examination?'

Once alone, Helena placed Rosalind in the cot, took off the baby's clothes and threw them on the floor with distaste. ‘I shall have those burned.' Then she watched Nicholas move gentle and experienced hands over her daughter.

‘She seems to be fine. It might be as well to resume her normal formula in frequent small amounts, at least for the first forty-eight hours.' Helena saw him frown. ‘What her destiny would have been had we not arrived at the house when we did …'

‘You were only just in time?'

As she covered Rosalind with a pink cotton sheet, he began to describe the scene in the kitchen. Helena stared at him in growing horror. ‘I really am beginning to believe in fate. If you hadn't come here this morning, and just at that particular time …' Her voice was shaky. ‘Nicholas, there are not the words.' She turned to him and somehow they were in each other's arms, her relief, her gratitude, her love for him, all drowning the caution she had tried so carefully to preserve. As she clung to his lean yet strong body, she could feel the warmth of his breath and at last raised her lips for his first sweet and tender kiss, swiftly followed by another so deep and full of promise that Helena knew a line had been crossed beyond which it would be impossible ever to return.

Nicholas, although aware of the immediate need to disillusion Andrew concerning his obvious hope of a future marriage between his partner and Elspeth, was finding it a sensitive subject to broach. Then the opportunity arose one lunchtime, as when seated in the oak-panelled room of their favourite restaurant and waiting for their oxtail soup, Andrew leaned back and said, ‘Mrs Haverstock told me this morning that her cousin and the girls are thinking of extending their stay in London. And I,' his eyes creased at the corners, ‘have a slight suspicion that one of the reasons might be seated opposite.'

Nicholas gazed steadily at him. ‘Andrew, I do hope not.'

‘I don't understand, we both thought that …'

‘Miss Elspeth is delightful, but I'm afraid that something has happened that changes everything. I had every intention of mentioning it to you.'

Andrew frowned. ‘When you say that something has happened, am I to take it that you mean …'

Nicholas nodded. ‘I offer you my apologies, Andrew. Yes, there is someone else. The situation that I find myself in arose unexpectedly, and I am not at liberty to say more. But I can assure you that nothing of a personal nature passed between myself and Miss Elspeth.'

Andrew waited until the waiter had brought their soup, and then slowly broke off a morsel of his bread roll. ‘I cannot deny that I am disappointed and I know my wife will be too.' He looked across at Nicholas. ‘But I know you well enough to respect your decision. I just hope you don't regret it.'

A few days after Rosalind's safe return, in response to a telephone call, Jacob instructed his chauffeur to drive him to New Scotland Yard on the Victoria Embankment and he was immediately ushered to the office to Chief Inspector Morris.

The tall figure of the detective came forward, hand outstretched. ‘Good morning, Mr Standish. I'm sorry to cause you the inconvenience of coming all this way.'

‘Not at all, Chief Inspector. I am sure you are a very busy man.'

‘I think you will understand my reasons for not coming to Faraday House, when you hear what I have to tell you. A rather unpleasant business, I'm afraid.'

Jacob took the seat indicated before the desk, and found apprehension rising as the Chief Inspector returned to his own on the other side. He lowered himself into the chair somewhat heavily. ‘I'm afraid what I have to say will come as a profound shock to you. The fact is that as a result of Mrs Masterson's statement, our investigations have uncovered irrefutable evidence linking your son-in-law to the kidnap of your granddaughter.'

Jacob felt the blood begin to pound in his temples, and gripped the silver knob of his cane so tightly that his knuckles whitened.

The Chief Inspector waited a moment then continued. ‘Apparently, there was a profitable trade being carried out in that house. Babies born on the wrong side of the blanket, who would cause scandal in high places, were brought there to be smuggled out of the country, first over the Channel to France, and then elsewhere.'

Jacob's voice was hoarse. ‘I find this difficult to believe. About Oliver, I mean.'

‘I am afraid there is no mistake. I can only assume that your son-in-law availed himself of this service for the disposal of his own daughter. What I do not understand, Mr Standish, is why he should do such a thing.'

Jacob lowered his eyes in an attempt to conceal how shaken he was, how horrified. ‘I can only thank you for your consideration, Chief Inspector. If my daughter were to have the slightest inkling …'

‘Indeed, but I would ask you again, could you give me any explanation?'

After a pause, Jacob, who could only attribute it to what he assumed to be Oliver's phobic mental illness, briefly explained. ‘And his death – was that connected?'

‘We have discovered nothing to indicate it. But it is still early days.'

Oliver Faraday's funeral was a sober and well-attended occasion, with a sonorous sermon as befitted such a prominent member of the local community, despairing of the decline in moral standards that had led to the manner of his death. The burial ceremony took place in the churchyard near Graylings where the Faraday family had its own small mausoleum.

In the black-draped drawing room afterwards, many of the mourners cast admiring glances towards what some described as a tragic and beautiful widow, although Dorothy whispered to Peregrine that she had already detected speculative glances. ‘I suppose we can expect a few fortune hunters,' she said with scorn. ‘Scavengers, that's all they are.'

Jacob was finding the day almost impossible to bear, as at his side his beloved daughter, pale in her widow's weeds, listened to well-meaning people extol the virtues of his son-in-law. As he murmured the expected platitudes, he felt not only a hypocrite, but also guilt knowing that he had allowed his political ambition to cloud his judgement. Otherwise, how could he have encouraged his daughter to marry such a man?

‘You look tired, Jacob.' Angela Shirley's quiet smile later eased his nerves. ‘It has been a difficult day for all of you.'

‘It has indeed.' He glanced across to where Beatrice was valiantly conversing with the last remaining couple and saw her relief as the butler ushered them out. ‘I imagine that my sister will be in need of a rest before dinner, whereas … would you care to join me in taking some air?'

‘I think a walk would be delightful.'

It was a week later when Jane Forrester approached Helena. ‘Madam, might I have a word on a personal matter?'

‘But of course, Jane. How can I help?' Helena turned from the extra cot that was now a fixture in her bedroom. She was still too fearful of Rosalind's absence from her to allow her to sleep overnight in the nursery upstairs.

Jane, after bending to give the smiling baby her silver rattle, said, ‘It's about Jack, I mean Hines, Madam. He was wondering if he has your permission to return to Graylings to see Mr Crossley.'

‘Yes of course, but why does he …'

Jane said quietly, ‘He needs to know what his position is. He has finished sorting out Mr Faraday's clothes and belongings here in London, and once he has performed a similar task at Graylings …'

Helena gazed at her. ‘Yes, I see, but he may as well wait until we all return, which will be very soon now. Jane, how is this change in his circumstances going to affect you?'

She pushed back a strand of her dark hair. ‘I don't know what the future holds for us. We would like to get married, but neither of us has ever worked anywhere but in service, and very few households employ husbands and wives.'

Helena was thoughtful and later, having given Betsy instructions to watch Rosalind with extreme care, she went downstairs to the morning room to join Dorothy and Peregrine who had remained after the funeral. Dorothy was scornful. ‘I can understand staff being discouraged from forming relationships within a household, but why preclude a couple already married?' She turned to her fiancé. ‘Didn't you say that you intend to keep on your house in the country, besides one in town?'

He gazed at her with amusement. ‘Do I detect your sharp brain at work?'

‘It's just that only recently old Farthingale told me of his wish to live nearer to his daughter.' She turned to Helena. ‘What if Perry were to have a word with Hines. If he likes the look of him, and they both feel he could take on the role of a butler, then maybe they could join our staff. I like your Jane, and I shall need a personal maid once I'm married.'

Helena smiled at her with relief. ‘Dorothy, you're a genius.'

‘That is the only reason I proposed.' Peregrine stretched out his long legs and grinned. ‘I shall expect her to write all of my speeches.'

‘I might even do that, if only to infiltrate them with my own political views.'

Helena said, ‘Actually, Dorothy, thinking of your support for women's suffrage, you would be welcome to hold any committee meetings here. It would be a pity if your activities were to affect Perry's prospects in the House.'

‘Thank you. I am even more relieved that you are to keep Faraday House. I'm sure that loathsome Selwyn expected to inherit it along with Graylings.'

‘Mr McPherson told me that Papa was implacable that it should be included in my Marriage Settlement.'

‘He is a formidable man, your father,' Peregrine said. ‘I'm sorry we have to leave tomorrow.'

‘I'm just grateful you've been able to stay,' Helena said. ‘Anyway, although we can't properly entertain yet, as it's your last night we have a few guests for dinner. Mrs Shirley and Johnnie Horton you already know, but not Miss Selina Lee, who he met in Italy, nor Dr Nicholas Carstairs.' As she mentioned his name Helena glanced away, horrified to feel the colour rise in her cheeks.

‘How could you not tell me?' Dorothy's voice was low so as not to disturb the sleeping baby, although she and Helena were sitting in the small parlour adjacent to the bedroom. Always perceptive, she had questioned her friend at the earliest opportunity.

‘I nearly did once, at Broadway Manor, when we were in the garden and the others were playing tennis, but you were always so scathing about anything romantic, even novels. Can you imagine how foolish you would have made me feel at dreaming about a man I had seen twice, and even then only briefly? I knew nothing about him, not even where he lived, or whether I would ever see him again. And,' Helena looked down at her hands, her voice becoming even lower, ‘I can't explain it; the feelings I had for him were too fragile.'

Dorothy gazed at her with contrition. ‘It was, I'm afraid, a case of “He jests at scars who never felt a wound”, you know, from
Romeo and Juliet
. I had never been in love then.'

‘It's such a relief,' Helena said, ‘to feel able to confide in you at last.'

Dorothy said quietly, ‘I've often wondered – were you truly happy with Oliver?'

‘Do I have to answer that question?'

‘Helena, you already have.'

The gathering in the dining room was subdued at first, but Johnnie's irrepressible good humour and his obvious devotion to the gentle dark-haired Selina soon lightened the atmosphere. Helena, seated at the head of the table with Nicholas on her left, hated the enforced pretence between them, conscious even as he conversed with Beatrice beside him, of his every word and smile, of his long slender fingers each time he reached for his glass.

Jacob, facing Helena at the other end of the table, was again appreciative of Angela Shirley's rare quality; that of sensing when a man had no desire for female chatter. He was quietly observant. Helena, with her black gown relieved by a double row of glowing pearls, looked breathtakingly lovely and it was such a relief to see the mantle of despair lifted from her shoulders. May God forgive him, never from
his
lips would she hear the terrible truth about the man who had fathered her child.

As Jacob gazed along the white damask tablecloth with its centrepiece of pink and cream summer roses towards his daughter and then around the table, despite his initial surprise, he felt pleased that Dr Carstairs was included in their small gathering. Neither he nor his family would ever be able to repay the debt they owed that young man. Then he saw Helena's expression soften as the doctor turned towards her with a brief smile, and to Jacob it seemed as if a silent message passed between them.

Suddenly into his mind came an image of the scene outside Faraday House the morning they left to rescue Rosalind. On seeing Dr Carstairs arrive, Helena had called out his Christian name. He had been somewhat startled at the time, and only now did he realise that since then she had reverted to using his formal address. Jacob was beginning to frown in puzzlement when he felt Angela Shirley's soft hand on his sleeve deflecting him from his thoughts. Later when retiring for the night, he decided that the wine, having been an especially fine vintage, had merely made him imagine things. After all, his daughter had buried her husband scarcely a week before; he was doing her a disservice to think she would be so disloyal.

When Jacob returned to Broadway Manor, it was alone, Beatrice having decided to remain behind at Faraday House. ‘I feel that Helena will need me,' she explained. ‘As you and I both know, the period after a funeral can often be the hardest time. You will make sure that little Skye is not fretting for me?'

Jacob smiled. ‘You miss that little dog, don't you?'

She nodded. ‘Ridiculous, isn't it?'

‘Would you like me to arrange to have her brought down?'

‘Jacob, would you? We are so close to the park, I am sure she would settle. And if Hewson gave you a list, perhaps one of the parlourmaids could pack up some extra clothes?'

Helena, quietly grateful, found comfort in her aunt's strength, while little Rosalind smiled at the dog's antics, and gradually the days turned into weeks, until at last, Nicholas came.

Helena was reading
The Times
, while Beatrice was embroidering a cassock for Lichfield Cathedral when the butler came into the morning room to announce him. ‘Dr Carstairs has called, Madam.'

Helena laid the newspaper on her lap, her pulse racing. ‘Please show him in.'

When his tall figure appeared on the threshold, Helena wondered whether he had decided that the time had come for their relationship to be out in the open. Or was it too soon?

Beatrice looked up. ‘Good morning, Dr Carstairs.'

‘Good morning, Miss Standish, Mrs Faraday. I trust I find you both well?'

Helena said, ‘Please do join us. May I offer you some refreshment?'

‘Thank you. My apologies for disturbing you, but I wanted to advise you that it might be wise to keep Rosalind at home at the moment. There is a bad outbreak of measles.' His gaze rested on Helena. ‘After being involved in bringing her back to you, let us say that I feel a personal concern for her welfare.'