Comes The Dawn (The Wonderland Series: Book 5)

by Irina Shapiro

  “This is sorcery, this is,” she breathed as she stared at the image.

  “Are you frightened?” I asked. “Do you want me to erase the photographs?”

  There were some who believed that taking a picture was like stealing a piece of someone’s soul, especially if the subject looked straight into the camera. It was perfectly natural for Frances to question and doubt the things she could never have imagined even a few days ago. I remembered Hugo’s first foray into the future and the confusing, wonderful, intoxicating journey he’d embarked on in those first days. He questioned everything, wanted to understand how things worked, and although at times he was afraid, waded in nonetheless, too caught up in the wonder of it all to allow superstition and ignorance to prevent him from learning and exploring.

  Frances shook her head. “If you say it’s safe, I believe you. Can I see a likeness of Archie?” she asked shyly.

  I knew that Hugo didn’t want her to see Archie in his condition, but not seeing him at all was probably more frightening.

  “Of course. I’ll ask Hugo to take a picture,” I promised, making Frances clasp her hands with joy.

  And now she was about to experience something even more magical. Even women born and raised in this time held their breath and cried when they saw their baby for the very first time. I held Frances’s hand as she pulled up her top and unzipped her jeans. She was white as a sheet, her hand gripping mine like a vise. I’d explained to her what was going to happen, but I don’t think she fully believed me, her mind refusing to accept the fact that she could see an unborn child moving about inside her body. She squeezed her eyes shut when Doctor Lomax turned on the machine, and the screen sprang to life.

  The doctor squirted some jelly onto her stomach, and Frances yelped with surprise as he pressed the scanner against her belly and began to move it slowly.

  “Don’t be afraid, Frances. This won’t hurt the baby,” Doctor Lomax said gently. “I’ll just see how big it is and listen to its heartbeat.”

  I squeezed Frances’s hand in warning not to blurt anything out. She looked as if she were about to flee, but suddenly there was a whooshing sound coming from the monitor, and Frances froze, staring at the little pulsating blob. The image was very fuzzy, but if you looked carefully, you could make out arms and legs, and the head. The baby appeared to be waving.

  “There it is. See?” the doctor explained, pointing with his finger to the screen. “You’re about sixteen weeks pregnant. You should start feeling the baby move within the next few weeks. It’s too soon to tell whether it’s a girl or a boy, but it seems to be doing very well. You have nothing to worry about. Just take the vitamins I’m going to give you, eat properly, and get plenty of rest.”

  Silent tears poured down Frances’s face as she stared at the monitor. “It’s miraculous,” she muttered. “Simply miraculous.”

  “Would you like a picture?” Doctor Lomax asked.

  Frances nodded mutely, unable to speak. She was utterly overcome. The doctor handed her a printout, and she clutched it to her bosom, sniffling loudly as I handed her a Kleenex.

  “My God, you’d think the child had never heard of a scan before,” the doctor mumbled as he walked from the room to fetch the vitamins.

  “I have to show Archie,” Frances pleaded.

  “And you will. Very soon,” I promised as I followed her out of the doctor’s surgery carrying the vitamins and sheaf of brochures about prenatal care. Frances wasn’t walking as much as floating, her feet not quite touching the ground. She was ecstatic, and her joy nearly brought me to tears.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I checked the caller ID. Hugo.

  “How did it go?”

  “All is well. Frances is anxious to show Archie the picture of her scan.”

  “Neve, I think it must be tonight,” Hugo said cryptically.

  “Why so soon?”

  “A new inspector has been assigned to the case, and he’s determined to get answers. He came by earlier to speak to Archie and reposted a guard outside the room. He won’t allow the hospital to release Archie until they confirm his identity and place of residence. We can’t afford to wait any longer.”

  “Can he walk?”

  “Yes, but he’s very weak. He hasn’t been able to eat much, just dry buttered toast and some soup. He’ll be lightheaded, but I think he can manage a short distance.”

  “All right, I’ll take Frances home and have her get ready, and get in touch with Simon.”

  “Call me after you speak to Simon and I’ll tell you my plan.”

  “Hugo,” I said, my voice full of awe, “I love that you always have a plan.”

  “And I love that you always go along with it,” he said with a chuckle. “I hope this doesn’t lead to a brush with the law.”

  “It probably will,” I sighed, “but we don’t have much choice.”

  Chapter 64

  Archie grimaced dramatically as the nurse carefully pulled out the catheter, his face relaxing when he realized this wasn’t going to be painful at all. “There you go, love,” the nurse said cheerfully. “Doctor’s orders. Perhaps you can try getting up after dinner.” She placed a tray of food in front of Archie and removed the lids. “Green salad, roast beef and mash, and a fruit cup for afters.”

  Archie smiled happily. “I can’t remember when I’ve last eaten meat,” he said and tried to pick up the cutlery, which was a challenge with his broken fingers and the IV in his hand.

  “Shall I help you?” the nurse asked.

  “I’ll do it,” Hugo volunteered and moved a chair closer to Archie’s bed.

  “I feel like a baby,” Archie complained as Hugo carefully guided a loaded fork toward his mouth.

  “Well, open wide then,” Hugo quipped. Archie obediently opened his mouth, his expression torn between happiness at finally eating solid food and embarrassment at being fed.

  “So, who do you reckon killed Liza?” Hugo asked, more to distract Archie than to find out the answer. Based on what Frances said, Archie had no idea. He’d left Liza alive and well, if a little subdued and seething with rage, on the road to Haslemere, and Hugo had no reason to doubt Frances’s word. Archie wasn’t the type of man to lie about his deeds. If he had been the one to kill Liza, he would have owned up to it, both to his wife and to Hugo. Archie had told him about the guards he’d killed to escape from prison. He felt no particular guilt at having taken their lives, but leaving Sister Angela to die weighed heavily on his conscience, as did his inability to bury his sister properly. Archie whispered Julia’s name more than once in his sleep, and Hugo said a heartfelt prayer for her soul on Archie’s behalf, as well as for Archie’s father who went to his grave without ever finding out what happened to his children.

  Archie chewed for a moment, swallowed, then shrugged. “I don’t rightly know, but can’t say I care as long as I don’t swing for it. Liza pushed her luck; it was bound to run out. I heard that she’d even approached Josiah Finch; told him her boy was Lionel’s bastard.”

  “Did she?” Hugo asked as he maneuvered another forkful of meat and potatoes into Archie’s mouth. Archie nodded, his mouth too full to speak.

  “What?” Archie asked once he swallowed. “You look like you just sucked on a lemon.”

  “I just can’t believe how I misjudged her,” Hugo replied, his expression thoughtful. “She was always a bit brazen and unconventional, qualities I found to be diverting at a time when nothing much brought me joy. But I never thought she had it in her to go to such lengths to get her hands on some money.”

  “You didn’t misjudge her,” Archie countered as he examined the fruit cup with undisguised suspicion. “Liza was a good girl once, as naïve and hopeful as any other young girl who thinks that a man is the answer to all of life’s questions. However, she wasn’t content to settle for the life she’d been born into. Some people just accept what’s given to them and try to make the best of it, and some bite and claw to better their situation. She tried it on wit
h you, hoping that you would set her up as your mistress and elevate her from the drudgery of service, and then when her scheme failed pinned her hopes on that captain, thinking he’d give her the comfortable future she longed for. Had he married her, she might have been content, but he left her pregnant and alone with no means of support. Life and bad decisions forced her hand, Hugo.”

  “Sounds like you feel sorry for her,” Hugo observed as he fed Archie the fruit. He was surprised by Archie’s analysis of Liza’s predicament, more so because he, himself, had never given it much thought. Perhaps he was in some way to blame for her evolution. He’d taken Liza for a willing participant when it suited him, and assumed that she understood the way things stood, but she’d obviously believed their brief affair to be much more, and harbored hopes that Hugo dashed without ever pondering the consequences of his actions.

  “Liza nearly got us killed by betraying you to Finch, and would have been happy to see her ladyship burn, so no, I don’t feel sorry for her, but I can understand how she spiraled out of control. She had few options. She gambled and lost.”

  Hugo suddenly understood Archie’s logic. He wasn’t just speaking of Liza, he was speaking of Frances. Had Gabriel lived, the nuns would have eventually asked Frances to leave, and she would have been cast out into the world — a young, helpless woman with a child to support and no one in the world to turn to. Frances wasn’t the type of girl to turn to blackmail, but if desperate enough to feed her baby, she might have been forced to rely on the kindness and generosity of some man, or a string of men. There would be few choices open to her, especially since at the time her husband was still alive, and she couldn’t legally remarry.

  “You saved her,” Archie said, as if reading Hugo’s thoughts. “And now you saved me, too.”

  Hugo set aside the tray and gave Archie a stern look that made Archie smile impishly. “Now, don’t go getting all maudlin on me, Archie. I haven’t saved you yet.”

  **

  Hugo glanced at the clock on the wall, then left Archie’s room to go get some coffee. He didn’t really want coffee; this was more of a reconnaissance mission. The uniformed guard outside the door was a young man who seemed nervous and inexperienced, and sprang to his feet as soon as Hugo opened the door. Hugo didn’t envy him getting this particular assignment. The policeman wasn’t allowed to read or play on his mobile, so he just sat there, bored stiff, too shy to even chat up the nurses.

  “Just getting some coffee,” Hugo explained to the young man, who sank back into his seat, relieved that he didn’t have to take any action.

  The two nurses at the nurses’ station smiled at Hugo as he passed by, having become accustomed to his presence. There was a vending machine at the end of the corridor, so Hugo strolled over and purchased two cups of coffee. He mixed a white powder into one cup and carried it over to the young guard.

  “Fancy a cup of coffee, Trevors?” Hugo asked in a friendly manner.

  “Thank you, eh, your lordship,” he stammered. “Very kind of you.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Hugo replied as he took a sip from the other cup before returning to Archie’s room, looking as innocent as he could manage. He felt awful about having to drug the young officer, but things would go much easier on him if his coffee had been tampered with, rather than if he allowed Archie to escape while on duty. The crushed sleeping tablet would render him unconscious for a few hours, and the residue in the cup would get him off the hook with his superiors. Hugo would, of course, deny any knowledge of how the sleeping powder got into the officer’s cup.

  Archie was lying back on his pillows, the TV tuned to a rerun of Britain’s Got Talent. Archie was absorbed in the program, laughing joyously at some particularly silly performance. Hugo sat down and drank his coffee at a leisurely pace, helping himself to a biscuit from a tin by Archie’s bed. The nurses really took to the young man, bringing him snacks and magazines to read, their compassion making Archie uncomfortable. Archie held out his hand for a biscuit and popped it into his mouth whole, his eyes glued to the TV.

  “Will there be a telly in London?” he asked hopefully.

  “Yes, there will.”

  “Never in my life have I seen anything so entertaining. Imagine, folk just sitting there in their parlor watching what they like when they like. What a life. How do they manage to get anything accomplished with so much to distract them? I do wish my da could have seen this. He would have busted a gut laughing.”

  Hugo smiled and glanced at the clock again. He loved seeing Archie enjoying himself for a change. He deserved to be distracted from his pain and worrying for a few minutes. Twenty minutes had gone by since Hugo had given Trevors the coffee; another ten and it would be time to go. Hugo carefully disconnected Archie’s IV, then took out some clothes from a plastic shopping bag and handed them to Archie. Archie dressed as quickly as his injuries would permit. He pulled on a pair of track pants, a T-shirt, socks, and trainers. He couldn’t manage the laces on his own, so Hugo tied the laces and helped Archie brush his hair and tie it back. It was odd to see him in modern dress, but he looked comfortable, if not relaxed.

  “Ready?” Hugo asked.

  “Aye. As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Not for the first time Hugo was grateful that the Cranleigh Village Hospital was located in an old building. Had this been a modern hospital, Archie would likely have been on a higher floor and would have to navigate corridors and elevators before making his escape, but his room was on the ground floor, the old-fashioned window easy to open. According to Neve, there were no CCTV cameras on that side of the building since it faced nothing but some shrubbery, so Archie’s escape would not be caught on camera. Hugo helped Archie climb out the window and watched for a moment as he disappeared into the darkness where Neve was waiting to collect him.

  This is almost too easy, Hugo thought with some regret as he locked the window from the inside and arranged a couple of pillows beneath the hospital blanket. He turned off the light, exited the room, and walked past the soundly-sleeping Trevors. The nurses were talking quietly at the station so as not to disturb the hush of the hospital.

  “Are you off then, Lord Everly?” one of them asked. She’d been trying to flirt with him for days. She was pretty, with huge brown eyes that fixed on his own in open invitation.

  “Yes. He’s asleep,” Hugo added as he returned her smile.

  “Oh, good. Poor man, all alone with no family or friends to look after him,” the second nurse said. She was motherly and warm, her concern genuine. “You’ve been an angel taking care of him the way you have,” she added. “Not many strangers would care about someone they’d found bleeding half to death. Would probably step over them and keep walking. A real gent you are, Lord Everly.”

  “Thank you, Nancy,” Hugo said, giving her a warm smile. “It’s no trouble. I’ll see you ladies tomorrow. Will Archie get discharged soon, do you think?”

  “Oh, no,” Paula said as she leaned forward, giving Hugo a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. “They won’t release him until they access his medical records in the NHS database and find out his address. No rush though; he still needs a few more days to recover. I’m sure they’ll find what they are looking for by then.”

  “I’m sure they will,” Hugo replied before bidding the nurses goodnight and walking out through the front door. He walked a few paces toward the Three Horseshoes Pub and ordered a pint. Several people called out a greeting, and Hugo joined a group of men at the bar who were discussing the latest developments in the Middle East. It was important for him to be seen tonight, so no one could accuse him of aiding in Archie’s escape.

  Chapter 65

  I buckled Archie into the back seat and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Hold on, cowboy,” I joked, smiling at Archie’s look of surprise as the car began to move. He tried to look unimpressed, but I could tell that he was torn between delight and apprehension. Hugo had told him about cars, but riding in one was vastly different than seeing a picture
in a magazine. We drove for several minutes before coming to a stop by the church gate. Frances slipped out and climbed into the car. She moved as close to Archie as she could and gazed up into his face, her hand cupping his cheek.

  “Archie,” she breathed. She only said his name, but there was a world of meaning in that one word. It was imbued with endless love, worry, relief at seeing him alive, regret at not having been able to do more, and boundless hope for the future.

  “I’m all right, Franny, really. Still a bit sore, but much recovered. How’ve you been, my angel?” He kissed Frances tenderly, his face aglow at finally seeing her in the flesh. They looked so young and happy, and lost in each other.

  “Archie look,” Frances whispered as she held a picture to his nose. Archie squinted at the black-and-white picture in the dim light, trying to understand what he was looking at.

  “Ah, what is that?” he finally asked, taken aback by Frances’s obvious delight.

  “It’s our baby. Look here; that’s the heart. I heard it beating. It went whoosh, whoosh. It was amazing.”

  Archie took the picture and held it to his face, turning it this way and that. “I can’t make out anything, but that sounds wonderful. I wish I’d been there. Oh, Franny, I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  “Neve took good care of me. Valentine will be upset not to have seen you.”

  “I miss her too, the little madam,” Archie said smiling. “And how’s Michael?”