“Yes. I do, indeed, my lady. What a wretched, beastly thing to do. I hope Scotland Yard makes him pay for what he did.”
“They will, Vera. Don’t worry about that,” answered Win.
“Mrs. Whitaker,” Win asked, “where does your sister Emily live?”
“Why, in Kensington, of course, Jay. Where so many up-market families live. Would you like her address?”
“Yes. Yes, I would. Did you take our son, Andrew, to your sister’s house? If so, how did you reach London?”
“Yes, Jay, I took him. He was right well taken care of, too. I wrapped him in his soft blanket, and he wore a little knit cap on his head. I knitted it for him,” she pronounced with pride. “Oliver met me down the road from the cottage where your wife been living. He took me to the station in the next village over. Cloverhill. I boarded a train there, and before I knew it, there I was at Charing Cross Station. Aren’t railroads wonderful?”
“So, then you went directly to your sister’s home?”
“Yes, Jay. Oliver even gave me money to take a taxicab, so I didn’t have to ride the tube. At the time, I figured it was right nice of him to do that. Now I don’t think so though. He’s a very bad person.”
“Very bad, indeed,” Win replied. “So, you took Andrew to Emily’s home. Was that all there was to the journey?”
“Well, yes, Jay. I stayed a while to make sure everything was right and proper ready for little Andrew. Emily was very excited. I told you, she’d fixed up a very pretty nursery for him. But then it was time for me to catch the return train, so I told them goodbye. I even had money to take a taxicab back to the station.”
“And you returned to Winthrop Manor and never said a word to anyone?”
“No, Jay. Except for Oliver, of course. I reported to him, and he told me he was very proud of me. ‘I’m very, very proud of you, Mrs. Whitaker’. Those were his exact words.” She seemed thrilled to have received praise from him.
“Well, I do thank you, Mrs. Whitaker. Josephine and I shall take it from here. You have been a great help.”
“Am I in trouble, Jay? Are the Scotland police going to come to take me away?”
“No, Vera, I don’t believe so. They may speak to you, but I don’t think you should have fear of being in trouble,” he said kindly.
With that, Win took his wife’s hand, and they left the kitchen area and hurried up the stairway to the first level. Thankfully, he ran into his father almost immediately.
“Win! My God! I can’t believe my eyes. We thought for certain we’d lost you,” cried the Lord Winthrop.
“No, I’m safe. I was a POW, but I escaped. More about that later. Right now, I’ve got to retrieve my son.”
“Your son? Nobody knows where he is,” the Lord Winthrop said, looking confused.
“Yes. We do now. Mrs. Whitaker had the details we needed. Oliver was behind all of this. Where the hell is he?”
“Still in the drawing room, I believe. Talking with the chap from Scotland Yard.”
“Just don’t let him near Mrs. Whitaker. Summon the inspector, and speak to him alone. Tell him I know everything. Give them this address in London.” Win handed the scrap of paper to his father. He had the address for Emily’s sister memorised. “This is where my son should be. We’re on our way there now.”
The Lord Winthrop looked terribly confused but agreed to follow Win’s instructions.
“We’ll be back just as soon as we’ve retrieved Andrew. I don’t want Oliver to have time to think up some sort of excuse, so whatever you do, keep the information from him. Also, don’t let he and Mrs. Whitaker speak to each other.”
Win took hold of his wife’s hand, and together, they rushed from the house.
“Wait, Win,” his father called. “Are you heading to London?”
“Yes, Father, of course. I’m going to bring my son home.”
***
Late that night, Win and Josephine returned to Winthrop Manor. Josephine held baby Andrew in her arms. It had been a mad dash to London, but Mrs. Whitaker’s sister, Emily Dawson, proved to be easy to deal with and extremely understanding. Win had explained the wretched scheme that Oliver had planned. Naturally, Mrs. Dawson had been under the impression the baby was a result of a young, unwed girl and a man who’d refused to marry her. It came as a frightening revelation that the baby was actually the offspring of a viscount and his viscountess. While she’d grown exceptionally fond of the child already, Win gave his solemn promise she would be allowed to see Andrew whenever she chose, although such a reunion would have to take place at the Winthrop home.
Emily understood the situation and felt remorse for the heartache she had unwillingly been a part of, due to her agreement to take custody of the child. Thus, there was no delay in the return of the infant.
When they reached Winthrop Manor, Win assisted his wife and child from the vehicle, and they went inside. As luck would have it, Oliver and the detectives from Scotland Yard were still there. Win strode ahead, into the drawing room.
“We’ve just returned from London and are aware of the evil you’ve committed. What sort of a person could let his own nephew be adopted by other people, in order to assure that he could become the next earl?” Win shouted when he saw his brother.
Josephine handed Andrew to Win and ran over to Oliver, beating him on the chest as hard as her tiny hands could move. The Lord Winthrop gently pulled her away and then turned toward the inspectors. He made it clear he did not want them to go light on Oliver. He hoped Oliver was about to pay a severe penalty. What he had done had been vicious and cruel.
The physician, Dr. Drew, had also been summoned to the residence. The Lady Winthrop requested that he evaluate Mrs. Whitaker and give some sort of rationale behind her odd behaviour. After spending over an hour speaking with her, he came away certain she suffered from some sort of brain malady. Whether it was due to her age or something more serious, such as a brain growth or some another disease, he wasn’t able to determine.
“All I’m able to tell you with certainty, madam, is that the poor woman is definitely not able to think clearly. We don’t have ways of determining exactly what the problem is or the extent to which she suffers from dementia, but I highly recommend she be removed from further duties.”
“Oh, but, Dr. Drew, she has been like a member of our family for decades. She isn’t going to understand why we’re taking her away from her beloved kitchen duties,” Win’s mother replied.
“Simply be kind, milady. You needn't try to explain that she shows signs of mental decline. Tell her she needs rest. She’s worked long and hard and performed excellently. Don’t send her away from Winthrop Manor.”
“I would never think of sending her away from us. She’ll be given a comfortable room here, and if a companion is needn’t for further care, she shall have one.”
***
Josephine and Win, along with little Andrew, were standing in the great hall, as Mrs. Whitaker ascended the stairway from the kitchen to kiss and cuddle the child. She seemed completely unaware of the part she had played in causing heartache to Win and Josephine. Win’s mother planned to kindly take her to the drawing room, give her a nice cup of tea, and explain that she was going to be retiring to a life of comfort. Most importantly, she would know that Winthrop Manor would always be her home.
While standing in the great hall, the Lord Winthrop asked Win and Josephine whether they would please consider returning to the live at the estate permanently. “This will be your home someday. Let your son grow up here, please. Your mother and I will move to the dower house. Let us try to be a family, Win. That’s the way it always should have been. We were very, very remiss in our reaction to your marriage. We know that now. Let us try to make it up to you. We won’t interfere with your life. Please, do think carefully about such a move.”
“Not at present. I’m not certain what our plans will be,” Win replied. “It’s possible. We need to be alone for a spell. I must spend time with my son. He�
�s nearing a year old. Josephine has to recover from the ordeal she’s been through. We’ll discuss the possibility of returning to live here at a later date.”
As Josephine and Win prepared to return to their cottage, each grandparent kissed Andrew. Mrs. Whitaker watched them as they left Winthrop Manor through the front entry. Oliver was being escorted through the front entry, as well, with handcuffs clasped firmly on his wrists, his arms secured behind his back. They had arrested him on the charge of kidnapping. The Lord Winthrop said he would not even contact a barrister on his son’s behalf. Oliver was basically on his own.
Win and Josephine left Winthrop Manor and walked toward the automobile. Josephine cuddled her precious son in her arms.
“Jay,” Mrs. Whitaker called from the front doorway. “Would you like me to send some cookies home with you? The baby might like them. You did at that age.”
THE END
About The Author
Mary Christian Payne was highly successful in several management positions in Fortune 500 Companies, in New York City, St. Louis, Missouri, Orlando Florida, and Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her work included Grant writing, and designing and writing Training Manuals for Executive Training Programs.
She left the corporate world, and became Director of Career Development at the Women' Resource Center at the University of Tulsa, where she designed a program that enabled hundreds of adult women to return to college and better their lives. She received the Mayor's Pinnacle Award in 1993 for this achievement. Mary left that position when the Center closed, and then opened her own Career Counseling Center. She retired in 2008.
Mary Christian Payne became a successful, best-selling author at the age of 71, with the help of her publisher, Tom Corson-Knowles. All of her life, she had wanted to write, and had received accolades for her unpublished work. She was encouraged in college, and writing was a significant part of the various jobs she held.
In 2013, she read Tom Corson-Knowles’ book about publishing on Kindle. She wrote to him and he telephoned her. The rest is history. Since that time, she has published nine books, with more on the way.
Mary lost her husband in June 2015, after 33 years of marriage. The grief process brought a lull to her writing, but she found that putting words on paper helped immensely. She is now in the process of writing her second novel since his death. She lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma, with her two beloved Maltese dogs.
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Other Books by Mary Christian Payne
The Somerville Trilogy
Willow Grove Abbey: Book 1 of the Somerville Trilogy
St. James Road: Book 2 of the Somerville Trilogy
Serendipity: Book 3 of the Somerville Trilogy
The Claybourne Trilogy
The White Feather: Book 1 of the Claybourne Trilogy
The White Butterfly: Book 2 of the Claybourne Trilogy
White Cliffs of Dover: Book 3 of the Claybourne Trilogy
The Thornton Trilogy
No Regrets: Book 1 of The Thornton Trilogy
No Gentleman: Book 2 of the Thornton Trilogy
No Secrets: Book 3 of the Thornton Trilogy
The Herrington Trilogy
Picture of Innocence: Book 1 of The Herrington Trilogy
Picture of Intrigue: Book 2 of the Herrington Trilogy
Picture of a Dream: Book 3 of the Herrington Trilogy
Winthrop Manor Page 22