The Midnight Rose

by Lucinda Riley

  His heart missed a beat when he saw Lady Maud Astbury herself emerge from the car, accompanied by Dr Trefusis. Lady Maud marched up the garden path towards the front door and Jim, now terrified of being discovered, knelt down and wriggled beneath the big brass bedstead. He heard the front door open and close, and the sound of low voices downstairs.

  ‘The child must be upstairs sleeping. Go and get him, will you?’

  Jim heard the heavy tread of the doctor climbing the stairs and held his breath as the door to the bedroom he was hiding in opened. He glimpsed a large pair of shiny black shoes, which paused for a few seconds a couple of feet away from him before disappearing out again onto the landing.

  ‘He’s here, Lady Astbury. Shall I pack a few belongings for him? He’ll need a change of clothes and some napkins for the journey,’ Jim heard the doctor call from the other bedroom.

  ‘Collect whatever you need, but be quick about it,’ he listened to Lady Maud answer irritably from the bottom of the stairs.

  Jim heard the sound of the doctor moving about in the room next door and then a loud cry from Moh, before footsteps descended back down the stairs.

  ‘Hush now, child,’ he heard the doctor say, trying to soothe Moh, who was rightly complaining at having been woken so abruptly by a stranger. ‘I should take some bottles for him, Your Ladyship. I’m sure the mother has some in the kitchen.’

  ‘If you must, but I hardly think the child is likely to starve on the way to London,’ Lady Maud replied. ‘Please, hurry up!’

  Jim’s heart was now pounding in his chest. Perhaps they were taking the child to London, to Miss Anni? Taught from birth never to question the ways of the gentry, Jim remained hidden, listening.

  ‘Are we finally ready?’ Maud said a few minutes later.

  ‘Yes, Lady Astbury.’

  ‘Good. Now, you will drop me at the Dower House and then proceed on to London with the child.’

  ‘Yes, Your Ladyship. It’s a reputable establishment and they take excellent care of the children there.’

  ‘And you will, of course, tell them that the child has been abandoned and that you have no idea where he’s from or what his parentage might be.’

  ‘Of course, Your Ladyship,’ replied the doctor as Jim heard them open the front door and shut it behind them.

  Jim let out the breath he was unaware he had been holding as he had struggled to catch every word the two of them had been saying.

  He heard the car engine turn over, followed by the sound of it struggling to turn round on the rough grass outside.

  Crawling out from under the bed, he chanced a surreptitious glance out of the window and as he did so, he saw a figure on horseback racing towards the cottage.

  Crouching down, his face half-hidden by the curtains, Jim had a bird’s-eye view and could hear every word as the window was ajar to let in fresh air.

  The figure who flung himself off the horse was Lord Donald Astbury. As the car prepared to move off, he placed himself in front of it to stop its progress.

  ‘Where’s Anni, Mother?’ he asked as he wrenched open the car’s passenger door. ‘And where are you taking Moh? What the hell is going on here?’

  Donald reached inside the car, grabbed Moh from his mother’s lap and took him into his own arms. By this time the boy was hysterical, but when he looked at the person who was now holding him, his face broke into a smile. ‘Mr Don!’ he cooed with glee.

  ‘Yes, yes, it’s Mr Don, Moh. I’m here, and I’ll look after you, as soon as I’ve worked out what on earth is happening!’

  By this time, Lady Maud had stepped out of the car and Donald turned to face her. ‘I’ve just seen Anni being driven through the village in the back of a police car. She was weeping hysterically, and she screamed Moh’s name to me. Where were you taking my son?’

  ‘Donald, I heard what had happened to Miss Chavan, so I came immediately to collect the child with Dr Trefusis to take him with me and care for him until we knew the outcome.’

  ‘Really, Mother? Well, then, Moh can come back with his father to the Hall on horseback, can’t you, little chap?’ Donald remounted his horse, taking Moh astride with him.

  ‘Are you out of your senses?’ Maud screamed suddenly. ‘You cannot take that . . . bastard back to Astbury Hall. For God’s sake, Donald, see sense! Your wife has just died and your lover has been arrested for her murder and taken away by the police an hour ago! Surely you must understand what this means? All trace of your association with that Indian woman and . . . that,’ she indicated her grandson, ‘must end. If any whisper of it gets out, you will be disgraced! And the Astbury name will be trampled in the mud.’

  Donald was staring at her in disbelief. ‘Anni has been arrested for Violet’s murder? How? Why? It’s totally ridiculous – it’s obscene!’

  ‘Donald, for once in your life, stop being blinded by lust. Dr Trefusis found some dangerous herbs growing in her greenhouse. He already had his suspicions, so he handed them over to the police and subsequently she has been charged. Sadly, Donald, the matter is now completely out of my hands.’

  ‘No, it isn’t, but I’m sure it started there, Mother,’ he said, in a voice cold with hatred. ‘So before I go and try to free the mother of my child from prison, just where were you thinking of taking my son? Perhaps you had a thought to do away with Moh completely? I really wouldn’t put it past you.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Dr Trefusis has told me he knows of a very good orphanage in London where they take cases such as this.’

  ‘“Cases such as this”? Good God, Mother!’ Donald exploded as he looked down on her. ‘I truly think you’re mad. But it seems I’ve arrived just in the nick of time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my boy back to Astbury Hall.’

  ‘No!’ shouted Maud as Donald tapped Glory’s flanks in preparation to move off. ‘I can’t let you take the child.’ She sprang out to position herself in front of the horse. ‘Give that child to me!’

  ‘Mother, I suggest you move out of the way, because if you don’t, I will simply ride over you and it will be no less than you deserve!’

  Jim, still crouching by the window, watched the stand-off between mother and son in fascinated horror.

  ‘Doctor, move your car and stop him,’ ordered Maud.

  ‘For the last time, get out of the way!’

  Glory’s hooves were dancing nervously as the woman in front of her refused to move. Donald tried to steer the horse to the right, but as he did so, Dr Trefusis swerved the car round to block their path. Glory gave a whinny of terror and reared up to her full height, bucking off her master with Moh still grasped in his arms.

  There was a dreadful thud as Donald, unable to use his hands to break his fall, landed on a jagged rock protruding from the ground nearby. Father and son lay motionless together, Moh’s head still resting on his father’s arm.

  Dr Trefusis leapt out of the car and immediately went to tend to them as Maud watched him, frozen.

  ‘Your Ladyship, I can barely feel a pulse. Lord Astbury must have hit his head on the rock as he fell. There’s blood seeping from his ear. We must get him into the car and to a hospital as soon as possible.’

  ‘What about the child?’ asked Maud. ‘Is he alive?’

  As if Moh wished to prove it, he stirred suddenly and let out a yell of pain.

  ‘He must go to a hospital too. I’ve no idea what injuries he’s suffered internally.’

  ‘Don’t be a fool, man! That child should never have been born, and you’ll take him to London now as planned.’

  ‘Your Ladyship, I beg you, there’s no time to lose. We must drive Lord Astbury to a hospital immediately!’ Dr Trefusis repeated.

  ‘You will do as I say. Now, pick up the child and we’ll go.’

  ‘I don’t understand . . .’ Jim could see the agony on the doctor’s face. ‘You’ll leave your son here alone? Lady Astbury, he may well die if he isn’t attended to immediately.’

  ‘Come on, man! Get
that child.’

  Reluctantly, Dr Trefusis picked up a tearful, shocked Moh in his arms and rested him on the back seat of the car as Lady Maud climbed into the front. They set off at top speed, away from the cottage.

  Jim, too horrified to move from the window, stared down at Donald’s prone body, his horse standing sentinel over him a few yards away.

  ‘My God,’ Jim breathed, turning around slowly in the bedroom, his limbs sluggish with shock. He then saw the photograph of Moh, Anni and Donald by the bed. If he needed any further proof of what he’d already heard, this was it. Lifting the photograph from where it stood on a table next to the bed, Jim hurried down the stairs and outside to see if he could help Donald.

  ‘Your Lordship, Your Lordship, can you hear me?’ Jim said urgently as he crouched down next to him, wishing he knew something about first aid. Donald stirred suddenly and opened his eyes. ‘That’s it, Your Lordship, keep awake until help comes. For God’s sake, sir, just keep awake!’ Jim begged him.

  Donald stared up at Jim. A sudden smile appeared on his lips.

  ‘Anni,’ he murmured. Then he closed his eyes for the last time.

  Astbury Hall, July 2011

  45

  As Mabel’s story came to its end, Ari found his eyes were wet with tears.

  He looked across at Mabel, who was staring out of the window watching the approaching dusk.

  ‘It’s . . . shocking beyond all comprehension,’ Ari said, clearing his throat, ‘that a mother could leave a son to die out there alone on the moors. It truly beggars belief.’

  ‘Indeed it does,’ Mabel agreed. ‘My mum told me that when Dad came home after it happened, telling her that Lord Astbury had died in his arms and Moh had been stolen away, she thought he’d been on the bottle.’

  ‘Do you think Maud wanted her son to die?’

  ‘My dad said it took over two hours for help to turn up. Of course, when it did, my dad made himself scarce. It wouldn’t have done for anyone to know that he’d seen anything. Lady Maud probably would have done away with him too. What a terrible tale it is,’ Maud shuddered. ‘It haunted both my parents for the rest of their lives.’

  ‘I’m sure it did, Mabel. What a secret to have to carry. Do you have any idea where the doctor took Moh?’

  ‘Only that Dad thought Moh had been taken to an orphanage in London.’

  ‘I’m amazed Maud didn’t drown him in the brook there and then,’ said Ari.

  ‘My dad always reckoned she would have done if the doctor hadn’t been there.’

  ‘For all the use he was,’ Ari said with a sigh.

  ‘Mr Malik, you must understand that in those days the local gentry held those who served them in the palms of their hands. No one would dare to refuse their orders. Dr Trefusis had no choice but to do what was asked of him. He knew she’d ruin him one way or the other if he didn’t.’

  ‘It was him that signed the death certificate Selina Astbury gave to Indira to give to Anahita,’ said Ari. ‘That surely must have been a criminal offence?’

  ‘But who was there to know he wasn’t telling the truth?’ said Mabel. ‘Except my poor old dad. After that, even when I was grown, my mum refused to work up at the Hall ever again and I never knew why. They’d have moved away completely if they could have done, but in those days, it was easier said than done.’

  A knock on the door frame made them both look up. ‘Excuse me for interrupting, but it’s getting late and I don’t want you tiring yourself out, Mabel,’ the nurse said, pushing a wheelchair through the door. ‘Perhaps you can carry on your chat tomorrow, Mr Malik?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mabel, as the nurse helped her gently into the chair. ‘Although I can’t think there is much more to say, except please remember your promise to keep what I’ve told you to yourself.’

  ‘Of course. I really can’t thank you enough for telling me, Mabel,’ Ari replied.

  ‘Well, it was the right thing to do. I feel at least one wrong has been righted. Goodnight, Mr Malik, pop up and say goodbye before you leave and perhaps we can talk of happier times.’

  ‘I will.’ Ari stood up and was walking towards the door when a thought struck him. ‘Can you walk at all, Mabel?’

  ‘Not these days, no. My blessed arthritis has done for my legs. The only way for me to get anywhere is in my chair. Sometimes, Lord Anthony will carry me downstairs so that Vicky can take me around the garden and I can get some fresh air. That kind to me, he is.’ She smiled. ‘But my grey cells are still functioning, aren’t they, Vicky, dear?’

  ‘They certainly are, Mabel.’ Vicky smiled at her. ‘She misses nothing, this one.’

  ‘I have no trouble believing that. Well, goodnight,’ he said as he shut the door behind him.

  Ari made his way downstairs, his head full of the new information he’d gleaned. He was still filled with a sensation of euphoria at the thought of Anahita being right all along. Although, who knew what had become of Moh once he had left Devon?

  He suddenly thought of someone who might . . .

  The other thing that was troubling him was Mrs Trevathan’s very definite presumption that it would have been Mabel whom Rebecca had seen in the bedroom last night. Mabel herself had just told him she couldn’t walk, so how on earth could she manage to wander the Hall in the depths of the night? And as for describing her as partly senile, Ari knew he’d not met an elderly woman since Anahita who was clearly as compos mentis as Mabel was. Mrs Trevathan was obviously lying. The question was, why?

  Rebecca was dreaming, dreaming again of the singing, of the smell of the flowery perfume, of running away from Astbury and all the dangers it presented . . .

  With a jolt, she awoke, opened her eyes and found her vision was blurred. She moved a hand to rub her eyes to try to clear them, but her arms seemed to be stuck fast behind her back and she longed to release them because they ached. The scent was strong, as strong as it had ever been, and in the dim light, the woman she’d seen before was here again.

  I’m dreaming, she thought, I’m asleep and I’ll wake up and then she will be gone.

  Some time later, Rebecca’s senses told her she was awake and she forced her eyes open. Thankfully, her vision had cleared and this time she could see the back of the woman she had seen the night before, sitting at her dressing table brushing her hair. She bent her neck and saw her own knees. She was sitting on a high-backed chair, and, as she tested out parts of her body, she found her arms were tied behind her and her ankles were strapped together beneath her. Still woozy, and with a headache that made the others she’d suffered from recently feel like a walk in the park, Rebecca struggled to collect her thoughts and find out where she was. Tilting her head slowly upwards, immediately, her instincts told her this was not her bedroom at Astbury Hall.

  Rebecca closed her eyes. Slowly, her drugged brain released information: Anthony’s marriage proposal, his sudden aggressive kiss, her flight from Astbury Hall in search of the film crew on the moors, the cloth going over her face and then – blackness.

  She tentatively opened her eyes again and studied the woman. She breathed deeply, knowing that the more oxygen she inhaled, the faster her brain would clear from whatever drug she’d been given. Whoever it was that was sitting at the dressing table in front of her was certainly not a frail old lady of over ninety. From the back, her frame was broad and sturdy.

  Rebecca studied her own legs, and saw that they were no longer covered in jeans, but in the soft silk fabric of a skirt that skimmed her ankles. Surreptitiously moving her eye-line up the front of her body, she saw the same material covered her upper torso too.

  She was wearing a dress. Which meant that whoever this woman was, she had undressed her.

  A shudder of terror ran down Rebecca’s spine.

  I will die, just like Violet, I know I will . . .

  She closed her eyes, her head and heart pounding. An instinctive deep breath escaped her, despite her efforts to stifle any sound.

  ‘I know you’re awake
. I can see your eyelids twitching.’ There was a sudden, tinkling laugh. ‘Open them and show me their beauty. You won’t come to any harm, I promise. My name is Alice, by the way. Just like in Alice in Wonderland.’

  With every ounce of mental strength she possessed, Rebecca did as she’d been asked and saw that Alice had turned round to face her. She caught her breath in horror, for this was not a woman, but a ghoulish parody of femininity. The long, blonde hair framed a face caked in badly applied make-up. Blue eyelids, false eyelashes covered in mascara, black liner around the entire eye. Bright red lipstick melted into the small cracks of ageing skin, and vivid circles of pink blusher glowed on each cheek.

  ‘There we are,’ said Alice smiling at her. ‘See?’ She patted her hair. ‘Am I so scary?’

  Rebecca persuaded her mouth to shape a ‘no’.

  ‘Well, I do apologise for having to take such measures to keep you with me. It really wouldn’t have been right for you to have left. I hope you see that. You’re my new friend.’

  Instinct told Rebecca she must simply agree with everything Alice said whilst she tried to understand what was happening and get her bearings.

  ‘You poor thing, you look awfully pale, so I shall go downstairs and make you a nice cup of tea.’

  Rebecca nodded again.

  ‘Do answer me, my dear. Mummy always said it was rude not to.’

  ‘Yes please,’ Rebecca managed to say.

  ‘Good-oh.’ Alice stood up, and Rebecca realised how tall she was. From her lowly viewpoint, the woman towered above her. Her eyes followed Alice as she walked from the room, and saw that she wore an old-fashioned silk dress, not dissimilar to the one Rebecca herself had also been dressed in. As Rebecca wrenched her head round as far as it would go to watch her leave, she saw enormous feet wedged into a pair of silk shoes.

  ‘Oh God, oh God . . .’ she breathed, begging her sluggish brain to make sense of what she’d just seen. Finally, having the freedom to turn her head, she looked around and saw she was in an unfamiliar bedroom. The old-fashioned brass bedstead had a patchwork quilt upon it and the closed curtains were sprigged with faded flowers. The dressing table was heaped with cosmetics lying on its marble surface. A bottle of the same perfume that had been in Violet’s room stood open.