At last the train drew into the station. She dismounted stiffly to search for a cab. Luckily the first cabman that she saw looked kind and fatherly.
“Can you take me to the White Elephant?” she asked. “It’s an alehouse.”
“Can you give me some kind of an address?”
“I only know that it is in the East End.”
“But that’s a big place.”
“Oh, no!” she cried. “I simply have to go there. I cannot let anything stop me now.”
“You jump into the cab miss and I’ll see what I can find out.”
She sat trembling in the cab while he climbed down and vanished for a moment. When he returned he was looking more cheerful.
“That’s all right. One of the other cabbies went there only yesterday and he directed me. I know the place, but it isn’t suitable for a young lady like yourself.”
“Oh, but I must go,” she repeated frantically. “Please, you cannot imagine how important it is to me.”
“Well,” he replied doubtfully, “if I’m with you I suppose it may be all right.”
In a moment they were on their way, rumbling through the streets of London which were growing more and more lively. People were going to the theatre and to dinner parties. Lights shone from windows, glimmering on the pavements and cobble stones. Everywhere Cecilia looked she saw good cheer and happiness, contrasting bitterly with the deep ache in her heart.
Gradually the streets changed, becoming shabbier, although there were still lights and the sounds of song and laughter.
“Here we are,” announced the cabman at last, drawing up behind a large alehouse. “It looks as though they’re just throwing everyone out. Maybe the person you want isn’t here?”
“Oh, yes, he’s the landlord. Mr. Robert Dale.”
“What does he look like?”
“I don’t know, I have never seen him before.”
“In that case, come on and stay close to me.”
Taking a firm grip on her hand, he assumed a scowl, calculated to deter any man too attracted by her fresh beauty and they invaded the building, heading straight for a plump, comfortable looking man behind the bar.
“I am looking for Mr. Dale, the landlord,” the cabman asked.
“I am Robert Dale,” replied the man.
“There’s a young lady here, wants to speak to you urgently.”
“Please, it’s very important,” Cecilia pleaded. “Are you really Mr. Robert Dale?”
“I am?”
“You own the Paradise Hotel in Brighton?”
“I do.”
“And you were in the Crimea with Lord Milton?”
“Now, how did you know he was a Lord?” Robert asked. “He wanted it kept a secret.”
“And he did, but now he is in trouble and he needs you.”
“Well, if you are a friend of his Lordship, you are a friend of mine. Come inside.”
“How much do I owe you?” Cecilia asked the cabman.
“One shilling and sixpence, please ma’am,” he said.
She paid him and added a generous tip, so that he scratched his head and wondered just what kind of young lady this really was. Then she followed Robert Dale into a back room, where he sat her down, ordered his housekeeper to bring her some refreshment and said,
“Now tell me exactly what’s wrong.”
*
“Sir, how often do I have to stop you getting out of bed?” Frank asked, hurriedly setting down the jug he was carrying and hurrying across to John.
“I have to get up,” John said, rising to his feet, clutching at the chest of drawers.
“No sir, you must stay where you are, until you are stronger.”
“But I have to find her, can’t you understand?”
“Sir, we looked everywhere for her last night. She has vanished. She probably caught a train out of here. That means she’s safe by now, where Sir Stewart cannot touch her. It’s the best thing for her, sir.”
John fell back on the bed, exhausted.
“I suppose you are right,” he sighed. “But not to know where she is – to be unable to help her –”
“But at least, if we don’t know where she is, neither does Paxton.” Frank observed. “If he can’t find her here he may even go away and – hallo, what do I see?”
He was looking out of the window.
“They are here,” he groaned.
“They?”
“The devil and the idiot,” Frank replied, not considering any further explanation necessary.
“In that case, it is lucky that she has vanished,” John said, trying to feel pleased about it.
A moment later Jenkins and Sir Stewart burst into the room.
“Right! You’ve had as long as I am going to give you,” the policeman proclaimed. “John Milton, I arrest you on a charge of abduction. You will receive a long prison sentence, I dare say.”
“Unless you admit the truth,” Sir Stewart added with a sneer. “This is your last chance. Hand over my ward now, and I will forget the charges.”
“I have no idea where your ward is,” John answered, slowly and deliberately. “And if you were not such a fool, you would recognise the truth when you hear it.”
“Constable, do your duty,” Sir Stewart bawled.
Delighted at the chance to do something at last, Jenkins pulled out a pair of handcuffs and advanced on John.
“Where is he? Where’s his Lordship?”
The thunderous but cheerful voice in the corridor outside made them all freeze and look towards the door. The next moment it was flung open and Robert Dale stood on the threshold. As soon as he saw John he darted forward and dropped to his knees beside the bed.
“It is so good to see your Lordship again,” he declared. “I have been a little worried about you being left to manage the Paradise Hotel, so different from Milton Park, and everything an Earl must be used to. And now I see that some common felon has wounded you – Oh, my Lord!”
He said the last words with a fervour that made John’s lips twitch. At first he had been disconcerted by Robert’s theatrical behaviour, but then he realised that his friend had carefully worded his speech for Jenkins’s benefit and it was having an effect.
“Your Lordship?” Jenkins echoed. “Milton Park?”
“Of course,” Robert said, rising to his feet. “This is Earl Milton of Milton Park.”
“A likely story!” Sir Stewart scoffed.
“I knew him in the war,” Robert said. “He wasn’t an Earl then, just an ‘Honourable’, Major John Milton of the Light Brigade. He has been awarded a Victoria Cross, one of the new medals that the Queen distributed last year. He is a hero, you see.”
He turned on Jenkins, who was gawping.
“You know me, don’t you, Jenkins. We met when I came down here six months ago, to visit my father, who owned this place before me.”
“Oh, yes,” Jenkins replied uneasily. “I remember.”
“Then you know who I am. And when I say that this is Earl Milton, you can believe me.”
“An Earl,” Jenkins gasped.
“I tried to tell you,” John observed mildly. “How lucky Robert happened to turn up, at this very moment!”
“This is all very nice and cosy,” Sir Stewart raged. “But where is my ward?”
“I do not know,” John sighed.
“But I do,” Robert said unexpectedly. “It’s no accident that brought me here, my Lord. A young lady came to fetch me at my ale house, the White Elephant. She said I was the only one who could establish your identity. So I came here. But I left her in London, because she felt safer there.”
“The White Elephant,” Sir Stewart said with a kind of snarling pleasure.
“Yes, but she’s not there now. She said she would stay at a hotel. Only she didn’t say which one, so you will have quite a few to look through.”
“I will find her!”
“Here, what about putting him under lock and key?” Frank demanded of Jenkins
. “After all, if Lord Milton is an Earl then he is the one telling the truth, eh?”
It was always possible that Jenkins might spot the fallacy in this reasoning, but experience of the constable’s mental processes made this unlikely.
“Yes,” Jenkins agreed. Turning to Sir Stewart he declared, “You are under arrest for the attempted murder of Earl Milton of Milton Park, VC and Honourable.”
Sir Stewart swore with contempt and made a dash for the door, but Frank and Robert reached it before him. Jenkins followed up with the handcuffs and in a moment he was helpless, being dragged off to the Police Station with Frank’s help.
“Robert, thank you with all my heart,” John said. “I do not know what I would have done if you hadn’t arrived to save me.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank the lady. She was very brave and determined.”
“How is she? Did you leave her looking well?”
“I didn’t leave her at all. She came here with me. Why do you think I told that maniac she was in London? Because she isn’t.”
“You mean – she is here at the Paradise Hotel?”
“Wait.”
He walked to the door and opened it a crack, looking out into the corridor. Then he ushered somebody in and tactfully disappeared.
“Cecilia!” John cried joyfully, opening his arms.
But instead of rushing to him, she held back and seemed nervous.
“I am glad to see you well, my Lord.”
“My Lord? Whatever are you talking about? We were never that formal with each other.”
“No, but I didn’t know who you were. You should have told me.”
“Why? I was trying to get away from all that.”
“You were playing a game, but – it wasn’t kind to – to –”
“To what?” he asked, growing more astonished by the minute.
“Never mind,” she said hurriedly. “I am so glad everything has worked out well.”
“All because you did something wonderful for me, going all that way to find Robert and tell him I needed him. But what I don’t understand is how you found out who I was. Did Frank tell you?”
“No, I was just outside your door, listening. I remembered you had once told me about Robert Dale and the White Elephant. So I slipped away at once. I waited in the yard until I saw Sir Stewart leave – I saw what Roseanne did, too. Isn’t she marvellous?”
“Marvellous,” he agreed, his eyes fixed on her face.
“When they had gone, I slipped away and caught a cab to the railway station.”
“You did that for me?”
“I just wanted you to be safe. Now it seems that you are and so it is time I departed.”
“Why? We have a lot to talk about. Cecilia, please come closer.”
He held out his hand and gradually she came closer, when he could seize her hand and pull her down until she was sitting on the bed next to him.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said gently.
To his astonishment, he could feel her shaking.
“Cecilia, my dearest, whatever is the matter?”
“You must not call me your dearest – although I know you are only being kind. But I do understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why it was wrong of me to propose to you. I did not know you were an Earl, but of course now I see why you could not marry me.”
“Can you?” he asked blankly. “I wish you would tell me. There is one reason that might prevent our marriage, but since it is known only to me, you cannot be talking about that one.”
Cecilia frowned, not knowing what to make of his statement.
“I do not understand,” she started slowly. “I only know that you are an Earl and I am a tradesman’s daughter. If I had known, I would never have asked you to marry me, because of course it is inappropriate, and it is what you meant when you said we must not hurry the decision. You were only seeking a kind way to let me down –”
“Cecilia,” he said, unable to endure any more, giving her a fond little shake, “please stop trying to read my mind. You are totally wrong in everything you are thinking.”
“But you were going to refuse me, weren’t you?”
“Only for a while, just until I could explain something to you that would have made all the difference to your decision.”
“But you gave me the clue, didn’t you? When you said my money meant nothing to you. How could my paltry little sum mean anything to you, when you must have so much more?”
“I have nothing!”
She stopped and stared at him.
“What do you mean? You are an Earl.”
“My darling, if you think you will be marrying into money, you will be in for a shock. I am penniless. Yes, I do own a great estate, but it is encumbered with debt and I have rented it out because I need the money. I have managed to make some improvements, but much more needs doing. Your money would be a godsend to me. So I simply had to refuse. Do you understand?”
“No,” she replied blankly.
“I mean that I could not say yes at that moment. First I knew that I must explain everything to you, that I was little better than a fortune hunter, not telling you of my need. To have accepted you then would not have been honest.”
She was looking at him in such total bafflement that he wondered if she had fully understood. He held his breath, waiting for her response. When it came, it took him by surprise.
“What utter nonsense!”
“Cecilia –”
“Why can men never see things clearly? You need money and I am offering it to you. Why cannot you simply accept what I am offering, without doing a little dance around it, trying to find difficulties?”
“But there are difficulties,” he pleaded. “They are called honourable scruples.”
“Piffle to honourable scruples,” Cecilia declared calmly. “Of course you are not a fortune hunter. I know what one looks like. Sir Stewart taught me that. Do you think I can see no difference between you and him?
“If you wanted to marry me, you should have said so there and then. Instead you made excuses, because you don’t want to marry me. You do not care about me. You would not marry me even though you really need to. That is how little you care!”
Thoughts whirled through John’s head – how unreasonable she was being – how unjust – why couldn’t she see things sensibly – ?
But then John realised that words were useless. There was only one way to settle this problem.
Grasping her swiftly, he pulled her hard towards him and covered her mouth with his own. For a moment Cecilia raised her hands as if to push him off, but she instantly relaxed and seemed to melt into his arms.
As he felt her warm to him, John tightened his grip, enveloping her in such a powerful, passionate embrace that could leave her in no doubt of his feelings.
Cecilia was in a Heaven of delight. The pressure of his lips on hers answered all her questions.
“I love you,” he murmured. “Do you follow me? I love you. That is why I could not agree to marry you. I did not feel that I had the right.”
“You have every right,” she answered dizzily. “I give it to you.”
“In that case, my loved one – will you marry me?”
“Oh, yes,” she sighed blissfully. “Oh, yes, yes. I love so you much and it broke my heart when I thought we could never be together.”
“Then you will take me, penniless as I am?”
“I am thrilled that you are penniless. It means I have something to give you.”
“You do have something to give me, but it certainly is not money. It is your sweetness, your great heart, your lovely face with truth shining from your eyes. Give me those treasures, my darling, and that is all I shall ever need for the rest of my life.”
*
They set the date for their wedding day as soon as possible. The doctor began allowing John out of bed for a little longer each day until, after two weeks, he was ready.
“But will we be ab
le to marry while I am still six months away from my twenty-first birthday?” Cecilia asked worriedly.
“I think you can leave that to me,” Dr. Sedgewick replied. “The local pastor is my uncle. Let me explain matters to him.”
The pastor came to see them the next day at the Paradise Hotel. He seemed to understand a good deal about the situation, such as that Cecilia’s father was dead. But when she tried to mention a guardian he became mysteriously deaf.
“Is your mother also dead?” he enquired kindly.
“Yes.”
“Then, since both your parents are dead, there is nobody you need to ask for consent.”
“But –”
“I think that covers everything. I look forward to seeing you on your wedding day.”
He bustled away, leaving John and Cecilia gazing at each other in delight. Then they threw themselves into each other’s arms.
“Nearly there, my darling,” he whispered. “Just a little longer and we will be safe.”
As the great day approached they were both on tenterhooks, just waiting for something to happen to spoil their joy.
And then something did.
Two days before the wedding Dr. Sedgewick looked in, his face full of concern.
“I am sorry to inform you that Sir Stewart has been granted bail,” he announced heavily.
Cecilia gave a little scream.
“But we were told that he was refused bail,” John agonised.
“Yes, but he appealed against the decision and bail was granted this morning. I think he must have bribed somebody.”
“And he will come straight to the Paradise Hotel,” Cecilia cried.
“Yes, so I think the best course is for you not to be here. Come and stay at my house for the next two days. Then he will not be able to find you until it is too late.”
They agreed willingly and completed the journey without mishap, although Cecilia’s heart was beating fearfully.
‘Please dear God,’ she prayed, ‘do not let anything happen now. I could not bear it.’
John was reluctant to make a run for it. He would have preferred to remain and face Sir Stewart in a more manly fashion. But he knew he was not yet strong enough for such an encounter, so he yielded for Cecilia’s sake.
On the morning of the wedding they travelled to the church together, since he would not allow her out of his sight for a moment. Dr. Sedgewick travelled with them, prepared to give the bride away.
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