‘Need I be jealous?’
He laughed. ‘Not for a moment.’
‘I haven’t been to any public meetings, but I am now writing letters on their behalf, that sort of thing, although I’m not militant. I couldn’t risk arrest because of Rosalind, not to mention embarrassing Papa.’
‘Will he lend his support in the House do you think? I did gain an impression that he wasn’t against women having the vote.’
‘He’s a fair-minded man – of course he’s in favour, but he’s only recently been elected, so he will have to feel his way at first.’
‘How about Dorothy, won’t her activities be awkward for Peregrine?’
‘Not really, she’s mainly involved behind the scenes, organising things, at least at the moment. I shall carry on helping in my own way, but I’m looking for something else too.’
His hand rested briefly on hers. ‘I shall see you this afternoon?’
‘Yes, as usual I shall leave Rosalind with Nanny.’ She looked up at him. ‘You know you only have to say the word, and I would come to your hotel …’
Nicholas gazed down at her, his eyes dark with desire. Then he shook his head. ‘You will never know how I have to force myself to say this, but no, my darling. I want to be able to meet your father’s eyes.’
‘Then we shall talk and hold hands just as other lovers do – carefree and unafraid of prying eyes. Bliss.’
The flower shop was in a small side street just off the esplanade. Cora had chosen Bognor Regis because, as she had told Sybil, if they settled in Brighton, they stood the risk of being recognised.
‘I don’t mean,’ she explained, as they ate their paste sandwiches in the otherwise empty carriage on their journey down, ‘because of the kidnapping – I’m pretty sure we got away with that – but because of Belle’s.’
‘You mean …’
Cora nodded, and began to pour tea from a thermos. ‘Just suppose you did meet a bloke you wanted to settle down with, you know, get married and have kids with. And one day you both bumped into some punter?’
‘And in Bognor that wouldn’t ’appen?’
‘Can’t promise that, but it’ll be a lot less likely.’
They had both emerged from the railway station clutching their belongings, and full of excited apprehension. But it had been a simple matter to find cheap lodgings and after spending a week inspecting empty premises, had discovered this little gem. Bow fronted, it had previously been a sweetshop, with a two-bedroomed apartment upstairs containing a sitting room and kitchen. Cora had instantly felt at home, recognising the security she had longed for all her life. She had no doubt that a good-looking girl like Sybil would eventually find a husband, but Cora was determined to remain single, to keep her independence. Sex she enjoyed too much to abandon, but any man she welcomed into her bed would now be by choice, rather than necessity. And the small business flourished, both girls working hard, and their cheerful banter bringing repeat customers.
It was one morning in late summer, when Sybil came back from her usual morning walk. They took it in turns to take exercise and to take the sea air, both still relishing the novelty. ‘I saw this young couple with a perambulator,’ she said as she began to tie the stems of a bunch of carnations. ‘Ever so good-looking, they were. She was in mourning though, probably lost one of her parents or something.’
‘So?’ Cora was carefully making a row of buttonholes.
‘I took a peep at the baby as I passed. A little girl it was, sitting up and pointing at a seagull. I couldn’t believe it when I saw her hands – she’d got six fingers. I’ve never ’eard of that before.’
‘Better too many than too few.’ Cora’s tone was distracted.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Once Whitsuntide had passed, everyone at Broadway Manor was looking forward to a busy few weeks, especially in the Servants’ Hall. Miss Helena coming to stay would mean more people to look after, what with a nanny, nursemaid and chauffeur, not to mention Molly. And there were bound to be other guests to entertain.
‘Molly will be coming down soon,’ Cook said. ‘Don’t forget now, you’ve got to call her Miss Fox. You kept forgetting last time.’
‘That’s right.’ Enid Hewson drew her thin frame up to its full height. ‘As Miss Helena’s maid, Molly has her position to uphold.’
‘At least she’s got on – I’ll never be anything but a kitchen maid.’ Annie’s expression was mutinous as she hung up a tea towel.
‘Why don’t I ask Miss Beatrice if I can train you up to be a cook?’ Mrs Kemp said.
‘Thanks, but even if I became good enough and tried to get a job somewhere, they’d only say me face would turn the milk sour.’
Molly, who had paused halfway down the stairs, had heard most of the conversation and her heart filled with compassion. She had been so lucky; since her promotion she’d not only seen London but at some time in the future might even be able to travel abroad. Yet poor Annie’s life held no promise at all.
‘Here I am,’ she said gaily, coming down into the kitchen. ‘The prodigal daughter returns again.’
‘Molly, love. It’s good to see you.’ Cook went forward and enfolded her in a floury embrace.
‘I thought you said we couldn’t call her …’ Annie protested.
‘Don’t be daft!’ Molly bent and kissed her cheek. ‘At least not when I’ve only just arrived and Mr Bostock isn’t around. How are you, Annie?’
‘Better now you’re here.’
‘I bet you’re all dying to see Miss Rosalind again.’
‘We are that,’ Cook said. ‘Can you believe it, over a year old already, bless her! It’s always a relief when they reach that age, safe and sound.’
Molly, who had been deeply shocked at the kidnap, glanced at Enid Hewson, both conscious of their strict instructions to say nothing. Jacob Standish had impressed upon them that the fewer people who knew of the crime, the less likelihood there was of it becoming public knowledge.
Helena had been back at Broadway Manor for just over a week when, as she had anticipated, Beatrice suggested inviting a few guests. ‘Just for a weekend, my dear. After all, it is almost the end of your first year of mourning.’
‘As you can see I have anticipated it slightly,’ Helena confessed, looking down at her dove grey crêpe de Chine dress. ‘I did weary of always wearing black. Who did you have in mind?’
‘Mrs Shirley – your father does seem to find her company congenial, as I do – and …’ Beatrice went on to mention a few members of familiar county families. ‘And I thought perhaps the vicar and his wife might join us on Saturday evening. They have their niece staying with them, a sweet girl if a little shy. You know, Helena, she might rather suit Dorothy’s brother, Hugh.’
‘Then we must invite him, and he can tell us her news. The last I heard she and Peregrine were touring France.’ Then Helena said casually, ‘I wondered about Dr Carstairs. I don’t think he’s ever been to Staffordshire. He does work so hard, a weekend in the country might be refreshing for him.’
Beatrice’s voice was calm. ‘Certainly, Helena. I shall write to him this very afternoon.’
On the day that Nicholas was due to arrive, Helena walked along the hall of Broadway Manor and after tapping on the door of Jacob’s study, went in and said, ‘Am I disturbing you, Papa?’
He looked up from his chair behind his desk. ‘Not at all, my dear, in fact I have some news.’
She walked across and sat in the leather chair opposite.
‘Chief Inspector Morris has only a few moments ago telephoned. Oliver’s gold pocket watch has been found. The police arrested two known ruffians and it was among their possessions; I would imagine that as it bore his initials and crest, their fear of discovery proved greater than their greed. The police are now convinced his attack was purely random
.’
‘So, it was not connected with the kidnapping after all.’
‘That seems to be their conclusion. The Chief Inspector’s view is they must have either left the area or gone abroad, either way there is little trace of them.’
‘So, it is all over?’
‘It would appear so.’ He closed the cap on his black fountain pen and laid it on his blotter. ‘Now, what was it you wished to see me about?’
Helena somewhat nervously smoothed down her skirt. ‘It will soon be the anniversary of Oliver’s death.’
‘Yes my dear, I hadn’t forgotten.’
Helena twisted the rings on her fingers. Now that the moment had arrived, she was finding it more difficult than she had anticipated. ‘Papa, I understand that in another three months, it will be considered acceptable for me to marry again.’
There was a short pause before Jacob said, ‘If that is your intention, it is my duty to remind you that at the age of twenty-five Rosalind would then inherit Faraday House.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Helena’s eyes met those of her father’s. ‘You have not asked who it is I am intending to marry.’
Jacob stroked his beard before replying. ‘My dear, I may not be in the first flush of youth, but I have not been blind these past months in London. I would only ask that you tell me the truth, because I had my suspicions long ago and then dismissed them. Did this … liaison between you and Dr Carstairs begin while your husband was alive?’
‘No!’ Her tone was sharp, defensive, and then she said, ‘At least … I cannot deny that I have had feelings for Nicholas for some time, but there has never been anything improper between us.’
He gave a grave nod. ‘I would have expected nothing less from you. However, I feel that I should point out that the doctor is not the wealthiest of men.’
‘Papa, he is not a fortune hunter, rather the reverse. Nicholas works hard and after our marriage will continue to do so.’
Jacob frowned. ‘You have a considerable fortune, Helena. Selwyn may have inherited Graylings, but you have inherited your husband’s personal investments. Then there was the money your mother left you. While I consider Dr Carstairs to be a man of integrity, I would be a poor father if I did not have a few misgivings.’
‘We love each other, Papa.’ Helena’s voice was clear, her eyes steady. ‘I am confident that we will be happy together.’
‘And you are prepared for the fact that as the wife of a mere doctor, however well respected, you will find yourself persona non grata in some social circles?’
‘Then I can only say that those within them reflect the hypocrisy of the whole system.’
Jacob gave a reluctant laugh. ‘Answered like a true daughter of mine. Tell me, have you talked to your aunt about all this?’
Helena shook her head. ‘I wasn’t sure whether she would understand. However, if you had guessed, I’m wondering now whether she did also.’
Jacob gazed into the blue eyes that so reminded him of her mother, and inwardly sighed. ‘It is possible, but if so she made no mention of it. I assume that Nicholas will be coming to see me?’
Helena nodded. ‘I told him I wanted to talk to you first.’
‘Well, I can only give you both my blessing, and I suggest that you now go ask for your aunt’s.’
She got up and, coming round the desk, leaned to kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you, Papa.’
He watched her leave. It had been his life-long ambition to raise the social status of the Standish family, and with Helena’s first marriage, it had seemed he had achieved his goal, but he did wonder at what cost. He doubted whether he would ever know if his daughter had known any real happiness in her marriage to Oliver. The thought of what Rosalind’s fate might have been if Oliver’s plan had succeeded, even now had the power to give Jacob nightmares. As for this second marriage, perhaps the time-honoured tradition of allowing love to make its own selection might prove to be the best one after all.
Beatrice was in the morning room, writing her list of ‘matters to attend to’. She put down her pen and turned in her chair. ‘Yes, my dear?’
Helena glanced towards the sofa and chairs. ‘Could we perhaps sit down? There is something I need to tell you.’
Beatrice gazed at her. ‘I see.’
Once they were both comfortable, Helena hesitated. ‘I don’t quite know how to begin. I’ve been wanting to …’
Her aunt said gently, ‘I take it that this is about Dr Carstairs?’
‘You knew as well? I have just spoken to Papa, and …’
‘My dear, we are not quite in our dotage. You had a right to your privacy, both of you. I just want you to be happy, my dear. And if a spinster like me can express an opinion on such things, I think you have found a man who will be not only be a good husband, but a good father. I have a high regard for Dr Carstairs.’
‘Thank you, Aunt Beatrice, so have I.’
After the Sunday morning service, the others travelled back to Broadway Manor by carriage and motor, but Helena and Nicholas decided to walk, although Helena still lingered outside the church porch. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet,’ she said. Briefly, she told him about Annie’s accident.
‘But Helena, what makes you think that I can do something that her own doctor cannot?’
‘I don’t, Nicholas, it’s just that you may have some more up-to-date knowledge … ah, here she is.’
They both turned as the sturdy kitchen maid carrying a brown paper parcel came out of the church. She bobbed a curtsey on seeing Helena. ‘Good morning, Miss.’
‘Hello, Annie. Are you off to see your mother? Do give her my best wishes.’
‘Thank you, Miss Helena.’ She blushed on seeing Nicholas.
‘This is Dr Carstairs.’ Helena turned to him. ‘Annie has worked at Broadway Manor since she was fourteen.’
Nicholas raised his hat and smiled at her. ‘I hope they treat you well.’
‘Oh yes, Sir. I’m very happy there.’
‘Does your mother live far?’
‘Not really, it’s only a couple of miles along this road.’
‘Good exercise, then. We are going to walk too.’
They watched her booted small figure leave, and as they turned to make their way towards the broad avenue to the estate, Nicholas said, ‘That’s a courageous young woman.’ He was thoughtful for a few moments as they walked along. ‘Tell me, could she come down to London, work at Faraday House for a while?’
‘But of course.’
‘Because I think I could arrange for her to be instructed how to use special cosmetics to disguise the worst of the redness.’ Nicholas frowned. ‘Only I’m afraid the consultation would be expensive and the cost of the products would continue to be so.’
‘Nicholas, would you rather I frittered my money on new gowns and hats? No, I shall arrange for her to return to Faraday House when I do.’ She smiled up at him. ‘When we are married, you must tell me of people who need help, of deserving cases … That will be the cause I have been looking for.’
‘I shall never take advantage of your money, Helena.’
‘I hope you do, Nicholas. I want to put it to good use.’
He glanced at her, proud of her honest belief that any difference between them regarding class and status should be of no consequence.
They walked along in companionable silence and then he said, ‘Darling, do you realise just how rare it for us to be alone together, really alone?’
‘I know. Even now I feel … Do you think anyone can see us?’ She glanced around the wide avenue lined with trees, the sunlight dappling their leaves.
‘Not unless you count the squirrels.’ Drawing her into his arms, Nicholas gazed down into the face of the young woman he had loved from afar for so long. His lips moved over her forehead, linger
ing on her soft closed eyelids and then found her mouth in a kiss that was tender at first but soon became more searching and urgent. He drew away and murmured, ‘Have you any idea how much I want and need you?’ His lips travelled down to seek the hollow in her throat. ‘Having to wait so long has been a torment.’
‘I know.’ Helena gazed up at him, lifting back a strand of his dark hair. ‘Do you ever think that if I hadn’t stood at that casement window …?’
‘We would have met some other way, I’m sure of it. How else can you explain how fate kept bringing us together?’
She nestled into his shoulder. ‘I can’t. These last months have been so difficult since that time in Bognor – only being able to see you occasionally, and hardly ever alone. But it won’t be long now, and then we’ll be able to spend the rest of our lives together.’
Epilogue
It had been, Helena thought, an inspired decision to travel to London alone after their quiet wedding in Lichfield, leaving Rosalind in the care of Aunt Beatrice at Broadway Manor.
And now, as she stood in an ivory silk nightdress before the window awaiting her bridegroom, Faraday House was so silent she could almost imagine it completely empty. Their bedrooms had been redecorated and Nicholas would use the adjoining room only when he had a late call and to dress in – he had dismissed any notion of them sleeping separately. She gazed at the interconnecting door, hearing sounds of movement, watching as the handle turned, and then he was coming through, smiling at her, one hand fingering the lapel of his pale blue pyjamas.
‘I feel quite decadent – silk, indeed!’
‘But you like them?’
‘How could I not.’ Nicholas looked at Helena, her honey-coloured hair loose around her shoulders, the elegant nightdress almost a replica of the gown she had been wearing when he had first seen her. ‘Darling, you look absolutely beautiful.’
Dangerous Decisions Page 32