Mermaids Singing (18 page)

‘Are you all right, Ma’am?’

With difficulty, Bella focused her eyes on the landlord’s anxious face. ‘If I may sit down for a while …’

‘The lady will wait here in your parlour,’ Quelch said, drawing the landlord aside.

Bella could not hear what was said, but the landlord nodded and Quelch strode outside into the stable yard without so much as a glance in her direction.

‘You look perished, Ma’am,’ the landlord said, opening the door to a small parlour just off the main bar room. ‘There’s a fire in here and I’ll send the girl in with some coffee.’

As the door closed on him, Bella realised that she was just as much a prisoner now as she had been in Mableton Manor. What Quelch had told the innkeeper she could only imagine, but at this moment she felt so weak from lack of food, and chilled to the bone, that she doubted if she could walk as far as the stable yard. She took off her wet jacket and went to sit by the fire, spreading out her skirts and watching the steam rise from them. A few minutes later a maid bustled in carrying a tray with a pot of coffee and a plate of freshly baked scones, oozing with melted butter. She set it down on a small table by Bella’s chair, smiled, curtsied and left the room without saying a word.

Cramming the crumbly scones into her mouth Bella closed her eyes, savouring each delicious mouthful. Washed down with hot, sweet coffee, the food began to have its effect and she started to feel better almost immediately. Having finished everything on the tray, and licked the butter off the plate into the bargain, Bella got to her feet and went to the door. Opening it a little, she peered up and down in the narrow corridor that separated the parlour from the bar room. A chambermaid scuttled past her carrying a sweeping brush and a dustpan and two men sat by the fire in the bar, chatting and drinking ale.

‘Can I help you, Ma’am?’

Bella jumped and spun round to see the landlord standing at her elbow. ‘No, I mean yes. I have business in the town. Did my man tell you what time he would be back?’

‘He was concerned that you should stay here in the dry, Ma’am. It’s not fit for man nor beast out there and we’ll have more snow by nightfall. Best wait in the parlour.’

His bulk blocked the passageway and Bella had no alternative but to retreat to the parlour. She was not dressed for walking, nor had she any money to hire a horse or pay for a carriage to take her to the nearest station. In her desperation she had planned to try to exchange her gold earrings, the only item of jewellery that she had been able to bring from Dover Street, for a train ticket to London. If all else failed, then perhaps, when the inn filled with travellers and tradesmen, she could find someone who would post the letters to Desmond and also to Edward that she had finished writing before she retired to bed the previous evening.

Running to the window, Bella peered out into the swirling snow, drumming her fingers on the windowsill and then, unable to sit still, she got up and went to stand by the fire. The ticking of the timepiece on the mantelshelf seemed to grow louder as she stared at the ivory clock face, watching the hands move almost imperceptibly, and wondering how long it would be before Quelch returned from his errands.

Unable to settle, Bella hurried to the window every time she heard footsteps or horses’ hooves on the cobbled yard, peering through the frosted panes in the hope of seeing a likely traveller. An hour went by and then two, as she paced the floor, making fresh plans and discarding them almost immediately as being unworkable.

She had just sunk down on the chair by the fire when she heard the unmistakable sound of a motor car pulling up in the stable yard. Leaping to her feet, she ran to the window. The snow had all but obliterated the view and she could only make out dim shapes. She hurried to the door and opened it just wide enough to peep into the passage. The arrival of a traveller in a horseless carriage must be something of an event, Bella thought, as the innkeeper rushed past her, followed by chattering chambermaids and the potman. Her stomach knotted with nervous tension. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the door handle so tightly that her nails dug into the flesh of her palm. This could be her one chance to escape; it didn’t matter where the traveller was going, or who it was; she had to get away before Quelch returned. As she stepped into the passage, Bella heard the landlord barking orders at his staff and she pressed herself against the wall as they scurried past her. She could hear the innkeeper’s voice speaking in unctuous tones to the new arrival.

‘Come this way, Sir. There’s a fire in my best private parlour and I can offer you excellent accommodation and good, wholesome food.’

The reply was lost in the general hubbub. Bella edged along the narrow passageway, intent on discovering the identity of the traveller.

‘But surely, Sir,’ the landlord said, ‘a glass of hot punch would keep out the cold. And perhaps the young woman would appreciate some coffee.’

‘Thank you, no. What I need urgently is the direction to Mableton Manor.’

The familiar voice made Bella start forward, pushing past the potman. ‘Rackham!’

Surprise, relief and a flicker of a smile crossed Rackham’s taut features in quick succession only to fade into a bland, shuttered expression as Bella flew at him.

‘You utter wretch, Giles. I might have known you were at the back of all this.’

Rackham caught her by the wrists. ‘My dear Bella, what a pleasant surprise.’

‘You are unspeakable,’ Bella cried, struggling. ‘Let me go.’

The landlord gave a polite cough. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Sir …’

‘Sisterly love!’ Rackham said, grinning. ‘It’s the very devil.’

‘Ah, yes, precisely so, Sir. Maybe you would prefer the privacy of my best parlour.’

‘I’m sure I would,’ Rackham said agreeably. ‘Come, my dear, we have so much to talk about.’

The maidservant set the tray down on the table, bobbed a curtsey and scuttled out of the parlour.

‘You bastard!’ Bella cried, wrenching her hands free from Rackham’s iron grip. ‘If you’ve come to gloat over my situation, then get it over and done with.’

Rackham shrugged off his greatcoat, dropping it carelessly on the nearest chair. ‘Don’t be so melodramatic, Bella.’

Kitty, who up until this moment had kept silently in the background, sprang forward to lead Bella to the settle. ‘You don’t understand, my lady. Please sit down and let Mr Rackham explain.’

‘I’m sorry to see you in such company, Kitty,’ Bella said, glaring at Rackham, who was pouring coffee as though nothing untoward had happened. ‘I thought you were loyal to me. I thought we were friends.’

‘I am your friend, I am truly,’ Kitty cried, grasping Bella’s hands. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘I understand that you’ve been duped by a rogue and a liar who uses his charm to get his own way.’

Rackham sipped his coffee. ‘And I thought you might actually be pleased to see me, Bella, considering I came hotfoot to rescue you.’

‘You told Desmond about us. I’ll never forgive you, Giles. Never!’

‘No, I wouldn’t do that to you,’ Rackham said, his flippant smile fading. ‘As a matter of fact I haven’t been near Dover Street since I left the country for Paris over three months ago.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Iris was demanding an engagement ring and, quite simply, I thought it best to put some distance between her and myself, not to mention my creditors. When I returned to London I heard that you’d gone to the country for your health. I could only assume that, after the gallant son and heir decided he would rather face the Boers than stand by the woman he professed to love, you were rusticating to mend your poor broken heart.’

‘What do you mean, face the Boers? That war was over years ago.’

‘I forgot you’d been out of touch for so long. The war is very much on again and no doubt, as we speak, the valiant captain is being heroic in besieged Ladysmith or Mafeking.’

‘Don’t speak of him like that, Giles. Edward is a brave man and he loves me. He did the honourable thing.’

Rackham’s generous mouth set in a hard line and his eyes flashed. ‘Honourable? He made love to his father’s wife and then left you to take the consequences of his own weakness and cowardice.’

‘Mr Rackham.’ Kitty caught him by the sleeve. ‘Please don’t, Sir. Remember why we come.’

Bella leapt to her feet. ‘Why did you come then, if it wasn’t to gloat over my sad condition and to report back to Desmond?’

‘We’ve come to take you home and Desmond knows nothing about it,’ Rackham said, in a gentler tone. ‘I’ve borrowed Swafford’s motor and he’ll be mad as hell when he finds out.’

Bella met his eyes and felt a trickle of cold fear run down her spine. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me.’ She turned to Kitty. ‘What is it? What has happened?’

Kitty shot an anxious glance at Rackham. ‘I’m not supposed to say, Ma’am.’

‘We didn’t want to alarm you, Bella,’ Rackham said. ‘But Leonie is unwell.’

Bella’s hands flew to her cheeks. ‘Oh my God!’

‘Miss Lane is looking after her. We both done what we could,’ Kitty said, her bottom lip quivering. ‘But Miss Leonie has been crying for you something terrible and the doctor said it was the measles.’

‘Measles? Oh, no! Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place? We must leave at once.’

Rackham took her by the shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. ‘Keep calm, Bella! As long as the weather doesn’t worsen, we should be able to reach London before nightfall.’

Picking up Bella’s jacket, Kitty ran her hand over it, frowning. ‘This is soaking wet. Where’s your coat, Ma’am?’

‘That’s all I have. My winter clothes are all in Dover Street.’

‘You’ll catch your death of cold if you put this back on,’ Kitty said, shrugging off her own coat. ‘You must wear mine.’

Smiling through her tears, Bella threw her arms around Kitty and hugged her. ‘I’ve missed you, Kitty, you are such a good girl, but I can’t take your coat.’

‘Never mind all that,’ Rackham said, snatching up his own coat and throwing it around Bella’s shoulders. ‘There are mackintoshes and fur travel rugs in the motor. Luckily for us, Swafford is always prepared for the vagaries of the English weather. We’d best get going.’

The journey back to London was a nightmare of skidding and sliding on snow-covered roads, with visibility at times down to just a few yards. However, by the time they reached Romford, the snow had turned to sleet and then to rain.

It was early evening when they reached Dover Street, and Bella was feverish with anxiety. Rackham offered to escort her into the house but she refused, saying it would only make matters worse. He left, somewhat reluctantly, saying he had better return the motor to Lord Swafford, before the chauffeur reported it stolen. It was not until he had gone that Bella realised she had not thanked him. Shrugging off the feeling of guilt, she started up the front steps but Kitty stopped her, suggesting that it might be better to go in unnoticed, using the servants’ entrance.

Florrie opened the door, staring wide-eyed at Bella and bobbing a curtsey.

‘I’ll explain later,’ Kitty said, in a low voice. ‘We have to get to the nursery without being seen.’

Florrie hesitated, glancing nervously over her shoulder. ‘I’ll be in dead trouble if they know it was me that let you in.’

‘No one will know if you’re careful,’ Kitty said, giving her a push towards the main kitchen. ‘You keep Mrs Dixon talking while we take the back stairs.’

On seeing Bella, Maria threw up her hands with a cry of relief. ‘Thank God you’ve come.’

‘How is Leonie? For heaven’s sake tell me the truth.’

‘The doctor left just a few minutes ago. There’s nothing can be done until the fever breaks.’

Throwing off her jacket, Bella ran into the night nursery and scooped Leonie’s hot little body up in her arms. ‘Leonie, my poor baby. Mama is here.’

Leonie moved restlessly in her mother’s arms, moaning and muttering feverishly.

‘She’s been like this for hours,’ Maria said dully. ‘I’ve done the best I could.’

‘I know you have,’ Bella said, gently cradling Leonie. ‘You look exhausted. You should get some rest.’

Maria ran a weary hand across her forehead. ‘I can’t sleep until I know the crisis is over.’

‘What can I do?’ Kitty hovered anxiously in the doorway. ‘There must be something.’

‘Make us some tea,’ Maria said. ‘I’m sure we could all do with some.’

Kitty went into the day nursery and Maria sat down on a chair, closing her eyes. Within minutes her head lolled forward as she fell into an exhausted sleep and Leonie’s feverish cries were calmed as Bella rocked her in her arms, singing a lullaby. But the peace was shattered by the sound of the door to the day nursery being thrown open, followed by Desmond’s harsh voice demanding to know if the doctor had called.

‘Miss Leonie is sleeping, Sir Desmond,’ Kitty replied, her voice rising anxiously. ‘Please don’t wake her.’

‘Keep your place, girl, and don’t you dare to tell me what to do.’

Striding into the room, with Kitty close on his heels, Desmond came to a sudden halt. ‘Bella! How in hell did you get here?’

‘I’m sorry, my lady,’ Kitty cried, her eyes wide with alarm. ‘I did try to stop him.’

Desmond turned on her, his face twisted with contempt. ‘Get out of my house, you little slut.’

Groggy with sleep, Maria staggered to her feet. ‘No need for that sort of talk,’ she said. ‘There’s a sick child in the room.’

‘Be silent,’ Desmond roared. ‘I won’t have a servant speaking to me in that insolent manner.’

‘Keep your voice down, Desmond,’ Bella said, laying Leonie gently in her cot.

Clenching his fists at his sides, Desmond’s face turned an alarming shade of purple. ‘It was Rackham who brought you here, wasn’t it? Your damned lover brought you to my house.’

Rising slowly to her feet, Bella met his furious gaze calmly and, to her surprise, unafraid. He had hurt her physically and tried to destroy her mentally. There was nothing more he could do to her; all she cared about now was her ailing child. ‘It’s your sick mind that makes every man into my lover. But think what you like, Desmond, you’ll not part me from Leonie ever again.’