The Forgotten Children

by Anita Davison

  ‘Why do you think so? It’s not unheard of for young people who share the same interests to forge a life together, you know.’

  ‘Charles is far too focused on his adventures,’ William replied, appearing not to catch her sly reference to his own permanent bachelor state. ‘He’s got a scheme in mind to go into partnership with some chap called Royce. Charles claims he’s the best engineer in the world and they plan to build the most luxurious motor car ever seen.’

  ‘He sounds like Bunny. Or at least the way Bunny used to when he still hoped to make his living from the manufacture of motor cars.’ Had they not married and had a child, perhaps he would have been free to follow his own fate.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking, Flora.’ William took his eyes off the road to glance at her. ‘Don’t torture yourself. Bunny is the happiest young man I know.’

  ‘Really?’ She hoped she didn’t sound too desperate.

  ‘He’s found his rightful place in that law firm. He told me he would like to move from corporate to criminal law and try real cases. When the next grisly murder takes place, you’ll be seeing his name in the papers.’

  ‘Defence or prosecution?’ she said with a nervous laugh. With an effort, she pushed away the image of Lizzie Prentice, whose death she was still not convinced was an accident.

  ‘Ah, now that I cannot tell you, you’ll have to wait and see.’

  Flora gasped as a man in a Homburg stepped smartly off the kerb and into the road without looking.

  Her hand instinctively reached out and grabbed the edge of the windscreen as William braked hard and brought the vehicle to a screeching halt. He stood up in his seat and shook his fist. ‘We no longer have to employ a man carrying a red flag to walk ahead of cars, my good man! Might I suggest you look where you are going in future?’

  ‘William! You don’t have to abuse the poor man.’ Flora shocked by how aggressive William had become seated behind a wheel when he was normally so passive. ‘I don’t expect he sees a motor car in these streets very often,’ she ventured as they set off again. She offered the culprit an apologetic smile as they passed, leaving the astonished man staring after them from the pavement.

  The rest of the journey passed without further mishap and William pulled into the kerb, where he switched off the engine which gave a final bang before the silence of the street resumed.

  ‘Well, Flora. After the best surprise outing ever, am I going to be invited to luncheon?’

  ‘Of course you are.’ She climbed out onto the pavement wondering why everything seemed to be moving. ‘Perhaps I should have more adventure in my life?’

  ‘Or maybe less champagne.’ William laughed as he guided her up the steps to the front door.

  Chapter 6

  Flora and William settled in white-painted chairs in the conservatory overlooking the walled garden where they took their postprandial coffee, the intimate space warmed by a pot-bellied stove set at the far end.

  ‘That girl seems to like you,’ Flora observed when Milly complied with her request to bring the baby down to see his grandfather. ‘She actually blushes in your company and forgets what she’s about to say.’

  ‘The fact you refer to her as “that girl” tells me you’ve not warmed to her.’ William lifted the baby level with his face and blew bubbles against Arthur’s rounded cheek through pursed lips as he squirmed and babbled excited incomprehensible noises.

  ‘Is it so obvious?’ Flora said, dismayed she was so readable.

  ‘Has it occurred to you she’s intimidated by you?’ William lowered Arthur and attempted to set him on his lap, but the baby’s chubby legs refused to bend, leaving him precariously balanced on William’s thighs. A small hand gripped the hair behind William’s ear and tugged. Wincing, he carefully prised the chubby fingers away, but thinking it a fine game, the baby let out a shout and grabbed at a forelock with his other hand.

  ‘By me?’ Flora bit her bottom lip to prevent a laugh. Apparently, all it took was a small baby to render an impressive man like William totally helpless. ‘Why would she be? I give her a free hand in the nursery.’

  ‘Yes, silly girl. You. You’re her employer, the mistress of this elegant house with every advantage in the world. She wants to make a good impression.’ William held onto the wriggling small body as Arthur enthusiastically mouthed his chin.

  ‘He’s teething.’ Flora had never imagined anyone would be intimidated by her. Even a maid.

  ‘So I see.’ He set the baby back on the blanket laid out for him on the floor. Arthur wobbled a little at first but soon righted himself. ‘Goodness, he’s sitting up on his own.’

  ‘His latest achievement. That and two bottom teeth.’

  ‘I must come around more often.’ He bent over Arthur’s thatch of surprisingly thick, red-gold hair. ‘He grows so fast.’

  ‘You would be very welcome at any time, you know that.’

  ‘You’ve been quiet since luncheon, Flora. Is something wrong?’ He adjusted his jacket where it had been rucked up by the baby’s feet. ‘Apart from stern-faced nursery maids, that is.’

  ‘Have I? I didn’t realize. Nothing is wrong exactly, but something has been on my mind. Would you be offended if I asked you to tell me about my mother?’

  ‘Your mother?’ He frowned but the look in his eyes was unfathomable. ‘What do you want me to say?’

  ‘I know that you intended to marry her, but Lady Vaughn had other plans for her younger brother and persuaded you to leave the country. Which was pretty poor of you by the way, though I have since forgiven you.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ His gaze slid away from her to rest on Arthur, who banged two wooden bricks together with a loud rhythmic clack. ‘I’ve regretted my actions so many times since, wishing I had possessed the strength to defy everyone and make Lily my wife.’

  ‘You were only nineteen, and my mother was younger. It’s easier to do what’s expected of you at that age. Few of us have the courage to flout convention. I understand all that. What I’m more interested to hear about are the times the two of you were happy. What was my mother like when she was young and daring enough to seduce her employer’s brother?’

  ‘Is that what she did?’ A wry smile pulled at his mouth as if he recalled good memories. ‘Well, maybe you’re right. I was a shy, awkward youth in those days and she was – magnificent.’ A shadow crossed his features as his mind drifted back over the years. ‘I met Lily during the summer after my second year at university. When I stepped out of the carriage onto the Abbey drive, I looked up and saw this devastatingly pretty, fair-haired girl leaning from an upper window. Our eyes met, and I gave her what I thought was my most charming smile, but she poked out her tongue and slammed the window shut.’ He chuckled, his eyes clouded as if he had left her to revisit the moment. ‘I was completely smitten from that moment. Lily was impulsive, adventurous, and even rebellious at times. Much like you, in fact.’

  Flora’s cheeks warmed at what he obviously meant as a compliment. ‘And you didn’t change your mind when you discovered she was your sister’s lady’s maid?’

  ‘That never mattered to me. All we both wanted was to spend every moment in each other’s company. George was worried about Venetia as she had a rough time with the birth of Jocasta, and was still recovering. Lily’s role had been temporarily usurped by a stern martinet of a nurse, so we were largely left to our own devices. I don’t think anyone noticed that we spent all our time together. Or if they did, no one said anything to me.’ He reached for his coffee cup, but didn’t drink from it, simply held it in his slim, tanned fingers. ‘The Abbey was a country idyll and in the long, hot summer days we would sneak into town on the governess’ cart for afternoon tea, or go for long walks in the woods, making sure we returned separately, of course. There was no need to ask for trouble.’

  ‘When did it end?’ Flora’s throat grew scratchy at the emotion in his voice.

  ‘Christmas Eve.’ William’s brow furrowed as if the good memories had
turned sour and he released a long sigh. ‘The smell of pine needles still makes me sad. George threw a lavish party to celebrate the season and Venetia’s recovery. He invited the entire neighbourhood, festooned the house with candles and a massive tree was set up in the front hall. I returned from university to spend the holiday with the family, though I rarely saw Lily during the week before the party. Venetia had put on a little weight, so Lily was kept busy making alterations to her best gowns.’

  ‘Something I have been trying to avoid.’ Flora patted her own midriff.

  ‘Rubbish! You’re as slight as a schoolgirl.’

  ‘That’s kind but not quite accurate,’ Flora said, though the compliment pleased her. ‘Go on, you were telling me about the last time you saw Lily.’

  ‘It wasn’t quite the last time, but anyway, we had arranged to meet in the orangery after dinner, but when I arrived, she had obviously been crying. That’s when she told me she was expecting.’

  Flora was tempted to ask how he took the news, but knowing what came afterward, resisted.

  ‘I was shocked, of course,’ William continued. ‘Delighted too, although I knew there would be hell to pay. I told her I would leave university and we could marry and live on my allowance.’

  ‘Which didn’t happen.’ Flora sighed as she contemplated how different her life might have been if they had. Different but not necessarily better.

  ‘No.’ His eyes darkened as he reached for his coffee cup, as if using the pause to prepare what to say next. ‘George’s mother was still alive then and the old harridan simply wouldn’t hear of her daughter-in-law being related to a lady’s maid. Venetia was also outraged at the idea, but given time I might have been able to convince her. My sister, however, wasn’t strong enough to resist the dowager countess, mainly because she had already disgraced herself.’

  ‘What do you mean, disgraced?’ Flora broke off to wrestle a corner of the blanket from Arthur’s mouth.

  ‘She had given George three daughters in five years, but no son and heir to carry the title and continue the Vaughn name. That constituted failure as far as the family was concerned.’

  ‘Did you make any attempt to persuade them to let you and my mother marry?’

  ‘Of course I did!’ His brow furrowed. ‘I argued and cajoled all that holiday but there was no shifting them. They saw it as a youthful indiscretion to be swept aside in order for me to lead the life they had envisaged for me.’ He exhaled in a sigh. ‘The life I saw for myself too, I suppose. When Lily told me she didn’t want any more rows and upset, that she had agreed to marry Riordan and I was to make my own decisions, I was pretty hurt.’

  ‘She was having a child.’ Flora couldn’t keep the frustration out of her voice. ‘She couldn’t wait for you to make up your mind.’

  ‘I know that, but I was young, arrogant and stupid.’ William’s eyes clouded as he followed the progress of a sleepy bumble bee that hovered over a clump of lavender. For a moment it was as if he had forgotten she was there. Finally, he spoke again. ‘George suggested I go to Boston to complete my education, after which I would be taken into the family business. I had this misplaced notion I was the victim; the one who had been abandoned and rejected as not good enough, so I jumped at the idea’ He propped an elbow on the arm of the peacock chair, leaned his cheek against his hand and slid his gaze towards her. ‘Why do you want to know all this, Flora?’

  ‘I thought it was time.’ She chose not to explain about Alice Finch for fear of creating an unattainable hope, or maybe destroying her own. Instead, Flora bent to disentangle Arthur’s fingers from the hem of her skirt that he had grabbed with both hands. She swapped the fabric for a stuffed penguin, which he immediately attempted to shove into his mouth. ‘Would you rather not talk about those days?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ William nudged the baby gently with the toe of his shoe, sending Arthur into a paroxysm of delighted chuckles. ‘I never have, so it’s a new experience for me. I don’t come out of it very well, do I?’

  ‘No, you don’t.’ She injected a hint of rebuke in her voice. ‘Mainly because having you as a father means I’m not descended from the Ulster Scots. And just when I had woven this romantic Celtic heritage around myself.’

  ‘Ah, sorry about that.’ William chuckled. ‘I’m purebred Home Counties and your mother was born in Surrey.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Her smile faded as another thought struck her. ‘When Riordan died and the truth came out, would you have preferred to have distanced yourself from me? After all, you chose not to have a family of your own.’

  ‘Of course not!’ He leaned across the space that separated their twin chairs and grabbed her hand in both of his, his eyes pleading. Eyes so like her own, she experienced a slight shock each time she looked into them.

  ‘Riordan and I came to an agreement. I wouldn’t interfere or make any contact with Lily again. She had made her choice. I returned to Cleeve Abbey as often as I could when you were growing up. More so after Lily disappeared.’ He didn’t elaborate, but the sense he found it difficult to talk about those days sat in his eyes. ‘Venetia had to rein me in on occasion, told me to stop spoiling you. She said if I treated you differently to her girls it would be noticed.’

  ‘I noticed.’ Although his kindness had confused her at the time. With hindsight, it made perfect sense. ‘Why did you never marry?’

  ‘It’s quite simple, and maybe even a little ridiculous.’ A slow flush crept up his neck. ‘The plain truth is I have never met any woman since who could compare to Lily. I’ve met lots of lovely, accomplished and intelligent women, but none who made me feel the way she did. I think of her often.’

  Flora swallowed, sorely tempted to share her fantasies about Alice, but Arthur chose that moment to grizzle. He flailed his arms and crunched up his tiny features in preparation for a full-blown wail. ‘Oh dear, I do believe we’re in for tears.’

  Before she could react, Milly reappeared like a silent ghost and scooped Arthur into her arms. ‘It’s time for his nap, Mrs Harrington.’ The baby’s wail did not materialize and murmuring gentle endearments, the nursery maid backed out of the room.

  ‘See what I mean?’ Flora whispered when the glazed door clicked shut. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if she was waiting outside the door on alert for the first cry.’

  William raised an eyebrow but said nothing, drew his half-hunter from his vest pocket and peered at it. ‘Much as I relish your company, my darling. I had better be off. I have an appointment at four.’

  Flora was about to say she had one too, but resisted.

  ‘By the way, Flora,’ William said when Flora escorted him back through the house to the front door, ‘I shall be going away for a while.’

  ‘Really, where?’ She held his driving cap in both hands while Stokes helped him into his coat. ‘Are you taking a holiday?’

  ‘Uh, no, it’s work-related.’ He avoided her eyes and tied his scarf round his throat. ‘More ambassadorial dinners, I expect. Lots of hand pressing and small talk.’

  ‘This isn’t about Serbian spies again, is it?’ A pang of apprehension tightened her hands on the cap.

  ‘No, that situation has quieted down since we arrested that schoolmistress. Though the embarrassment of having my assistant turning out to be one is something I have yet to live down.’

  ‘How long will you be gone?’ William always dismissed his role in the Foreign Office as a tedious administrative post, but since his clash with Serbian nationalists during a murder case Flora had helped solve the previous year, she knew otherwise. Under the guise of an aristocrat’s bachelor brother-in-law with little interest in politics, William delved into a darker side of the government constantly under threat from foreign radicals.

  Flora couldn’t forget that after the assassinations of the Serbian King Alexander and his unpopular wife Draga, the year before, rumblings about a coming European war still proliferated.

  ‘A few weeks. Maybe a couple of months. And do take that
frown off your face. I shall be in no danger. In fact I plan to be welcomed into some of the best drawing salons in the world.’ He took the cap from her, nodded to Stokes and moved onto the front step. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’

  She waved him off with a smile that hid a niggling worry. Why did he wait until the last minute before telling her, thus giving scant time to ask questions? Was the fact that he was obviously reluctant to discuss his plans because they were going to be dangerous?

  Chapter 7

  The excited dance and jangle of the bell over the door of Martell’s tea room welcomed Flora into its comforting interior. Formerly a private house located near the junction of Ebury and Elizabeth Streets, the front window had been replaced several years before with a wide curved bay with bottle-glass panes. An enticing smell of baking wafted through from the back room.

  ‘Madame ’Aarreengton.’ The proprietor minced towards her, his dark eyes alight with pleasure at the sight of her, both palms upwards in welcome. He wore his black hair slicked to one side with a liberal amount of pomade, a single lock arranged artfully to one side of a wide forehead. He always wore his black frock coat paired with an embroidered waistcoat; which on this occasion was a vivid canary yellow with blue and green birds poking their heads out from green leaves. ‘Yet again you honour me by gracing my ’umble establishment.’

  ‘I find it impossible to stay away, Mr Martell,’ Flora replied smiling. ‘I’m ashamed to say your delicious madeleines always draw me back.’ Her swift glance around the busy room located Lydia at a table for two, though there was no sign of Miss Finch.

  ‘You’re so kind, and the charmant Mademoiselle Grey awaits you,’ he waved an expansive hand to where Lydia occupied a circular table for two that shared a corner with a voluminous fern.

  ‘Please don’t bother to escort me, Mr Martell.’ Flora halted him with a hand on his forearm. ‘I can see how busy you are. I’ll have my usual.’

  ‘Absolument, ma chère madame.’ He clapped his hands theatrically to attract the attention of a pert waitress in a crisp white apron.