by Rhys Bowen
“Has something happened? You’ve found out more information for us, Sullivan?”
“Not Captain Sullivan,” Winnie said. “I finally have proof for you that we have found our daughter.”
“Proof? What sort of proof? Can a child change her coloring? I don’t think so.”
“I don’t think so either,” Winnie said. “That was what made me slightly hesitant before. But you see, she hasn’t changed a bit. I think I recognized her the moment she came into our house, but I wouldn’t let myself admit it. Come over here to me, darling.”
Cedric stared as Ivy took her mother’s hand.
“Are you quite mad?” he demanded. “Are you so desperate for your lost child that you are now embracing a servant girl? An orphanage brat?”
“She’s my daughter, Cedric. I can give you plenty of irrefutable proof if you like, but I think you have to admit that she looks exactly as Lottie would look today. And she remembered her name. She said she used to be Tottie.”
“Good God.” Cedric stared at her. “Yes, I suppose she does have the look.” He walked around the girl, then took her face in his hands. “The eyes. She has the eyes. Then who is this? Didn’t I suspect she was an impostor?”
Aunt Florence tightened her grip around Amy. “This is Winnie’s niece, Amy. Lizzie’s child. Her mother is dying. I brought her here because I thought it might be a solution that made everything right for both parties. Winnie was still grieving for her child and Lizzie was desperate that her daughter be taken care of after her death.”
“There was no husband?” Cedric asked sharply.
“Amy’s father could never marry her mother. He was already married—as I think you always knew, Jacob.” She turned and glared at Winnie’s father. “You drove your daughter out to ruin and shame and you didn’t care what happened to her.”
“I told her she had made her own bed and now she must lie in it,” Mr. Carmichael said gruffly.
“Fortunately the man took care of them until he died. After that they would have starved if I hadn’t helped out.”
“You see yourself as the great do-gooder, don’t you?” Mr. Carmichael said angrily. “Interfering in other people’s lives because you don’t have a life of your own.”
“I think I have a remarkably good life,” Aunt Florence said. “I have enough money to live on. I have plenty of friends. I only came here because I wanted to make sure that Amy was accepted and settled in properly.”
“And now you can leave again, and take the girl with you,” Cedric said.
“They will both be staying here with me,” Winnie said. “Amy will be the perfect companion for our daughter.”
“That is for me to decide,” Cedric said. “I am the master of this house.”
“No, Cedric. This time I am telling you how things will be,” Winnie said.
“You dare to dictate to your husband?” Cedric demanded. His face had flushed bright red.
“Yes, I do,” she said. “For too long I’ve been dictated to by you. I’ve been at your mercy. You have held our secrets over me. Now, the tables are turned. If you don’t want the whole truth to be made public, if you don’t want to find yourself a public laughingstock, you’ll do what I say.”
There was a horrified silence in the room. Personally, I wanted to applaud.
“Winnie, what has gotten into you?” her father said angrily. “It’s that woman. She’s put these ridiculous suffragist ideas into your head.”
“And you think I should listen to wise and good men like you and Cedric?” Winnie demanded. “You, who wrecked my sister’s life and then wrecked mine, all for the sake of your own social-climbing ambition?”
“Enough,” Mr. Carmichael snapped. “If I were your husband, I’d put you over my knee and give you a good spanking. It’s what you deserve.”
“Fortunately I have the Sullivans and Aunt Florence here, who are quite aware of what has happened in this family and will make sure of my well-being.” Winnie gave him a long, hard stare.
“We’ll discuss this later in private, Winnie,” Cedric said, standing in front of her in a manner that could be described as threatening. “We will not air dirty linen in the presence of others. People of my class and status in life do not do that.”
“What do they do, Cedric?” she demanded. “How low do they stoop?”
He refused to answer that one, but turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. We heard a door slam across the hallway.
I glanced across at Daniel. “We should leave, I think,” he said. “This is a family matter for them to sort out.”
Winnie came over to me. “Don’t go,” she said. “Not yet, please.” And I saw fear again in her eyes.
* * *
As you can imagine, the rest of the day was not the most pleasant. Winnie focused her attention on her daughter and niece, showing them around, deciding on which rooms they should have and how they wanted them to be decorated. It was all rather heady for both girls, who had grown up in poverty, but I could see that they were glad to be companions in this house.
“You took an awful risk bringing Lizzie’s daughter into the house and trying to pass her off as Charlotte,” Daniel’s mother said, as we sat together with Aunt Florence in an otherwise empty gallery.
Aunt Florence nodded. “You are well aware that I’ve always been known for my impetuous nature. I just thought that…” The rest of the sentence was left hanging.
“I understand it well,” I said. “You are like me. You want to make everything right for everybody.”
“I do. I knew I had to do something to save Lizzie’s child and frankly I didn’t mind if that meant Winnie became aware of her sister’s plight.”
“And if you hadn’t taken in little Ivy, it would have worked.” I turned to Daniel’s mother.
“It seems I am destined never to keep a trainee maid for two minutes,” Daniel’s mother said with a wry smile. “First Bridie and now Ivy. How extraordinary that the very house we are invited to turns out to be her home. How did she come to the orphanage, do you think?”
“I think the kidnapper must have claimed to be her father and the poor little thing was so traumatized that she couldn’t deny it,” I suggested.
As I said this I put events into place. And it all came back to Cedric. He had not followed Henry and Charlotte himself, because he had guarded Winnie to prevent her escape. But he must have paid Harris the gardener to follow them, to kill Henry or knock him out and throw him into the frigid waters of the Hudson, then to take the child to New York City and drop her at an orphanage two days before she was reported missing to the world. And when Harris returned to collect the large amount of money he had been promised, he met his own fate.
Then I took things one step further. Great-Aunt Clara, who sat at her window and watched things going on in the stableyard, had possibly witnessed money being exchanged between Cedric and Harris, and had put two and two together. And when her mind started to go and she rambled about old events, there was a danger she’d blurt out the truth. So Cedric stifled her. I wondered what we could do. Presumably there was no way of proving any of this. The main participants were now all dead, except for Cedric. And he was a respected man in the community. I wondered whether Winnie and the girls might now be in any danger or whether Cedric would accept his newfound family rather than create a scandal. I wondered if I should approach Winnie’s father. He had betrayed both his daughters before, but surely he would put Winnie’s safety and happiness first now? And the fortune had been his. Presumably he still controlled the purse strings, something that clearly mattered to Cedric. The ultimate bargaining tool, I thought.
I went to find Daniel and talked this through with him. Daniel was not so sure. “You think the threat of withdrawing his allowance will make Cedric Van Aiken turn into a loving husband and father?” he asked. “Should a family be bound together by veiled threats and not by love?”
“If it were up to me, I’d remove Winnie from this place and set h
er up in a comfortable home with her new daughters and Miss Lind to keep an eye on her,” I said. “But it’s not up to me. I just want to keep her safe.”
“Do you think she won’t be safe?” he asked.
“You heard Cedric talking about her mental instability, didn’t you? I’d wager he was planning to have her committed to an insane asylum,” I said. “You know how easy it is to get rid of an inconvenient wife. Then he would have her money, and I suspect an unfortunate accident might befall his daughter.”
“You really believe he is as evil as that?” Daniel asked.
I nodded. “Yes, I do. Any man who can calmly have his best friend killed and his daughter sent to an orphanage has no heart. I consider him capable of any kind of evil.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“That you use your power as a police captain,” I said. “You tell him that we know exactly what happened ten years ago and that he will be watched. If anything happens to his wife or daughter, you will have him arrested, and the NYPD is very capable of making charges stick.”
He had to smile at that. “You realize that the New York Police Department has no power out here.”
“I do, but Cedric might not.”
“I’m glad you are not on the force yourself,” he said. “I think you’d be among the most crooked of them.”
“No, I just want justice to be served,” I said. “Like Miss Lind, I want to make everything right for everyone.”
He crossed the room and stared out of the window. It was snowing again, swirling white flakes blotting out the landscape. “I’ll have a word with him,” he said. “Not threaten him, but just let him know what we now know.” He turned back to me. “Then, for God’s sake, let’s get out of here. I can’t wait to be home.”
“Neither can I,” I said.
Twenty-seven
I was dreaming I was back home in Ireland. Our cottage was cozy and snug while a gale blustered at the windows. The fire crackled and glowed and the sweet smell of peat smoke hung in the air. I opened my eyes, savoring the memory, until I realized that the smoke had not been in my dream. It still tickled my nostrils. The fire is smoking, I thought. I should get up and poke it. Maybe the wind is coming down the chimney, and …
That’s when I realized that there were no fires in the bedrooms. The house was equipped with central heating. I got out of bed and opened the bedroom door. Smoke was curling toward me down the hallway and in the haze beyond I could hear a crackling sound.
“Daniel!” I shouted, running over to wake him. “Bridie!”
Bridie appeared, rubbing her eyes. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Fire!” I screamed. “The house is on fire. Daniel, grab Liam. Bridie, give me your hand. We have to get out now.”
Daniel scooped up our son, covering his head in a blanket. We made our way to the stairs, only to find the staircase engulfed in flames.
“What are we going to do?” Bridie gasped, grabbing at my sleeve.
“There must be a servants’ stair somewhere,” I said. “There usually is in these big houses.”
“You look for a way out. I’m going to get a pitcher and see if I can put out the flames,” Daniel said.
“I’ll help you. Bridie can take Liam.”
“No. You take them down. Take Liam and get out now.” He almost shoved me away from the glowing hallway.
“But I don’t want to leave you here alone,” I protested.
“Molly. Get them out.”
“Well, don’t you try to be too heroic” was my parting shot as I took my son. I heard Daniel going down the hallway, banging on doors and yelling, “Fire!”
We tried the doors, one by one, until at last a door opened into darkness and a waft of cold air rushed into my face. “This must be a servants’ passage,” I said. “Quick. This way.”
I held Liam tightly to me, and Bridie grasped at my nightgown as we felt our way into darkness. We walked along a hall and then my foot reached into nothingness. Stairs going down. We felt our way, one by one. Down and down. The staircase seemed to go on forever. Then at last we were in another cold passage. I fumbled around on the wall and eventually located an electric light switch. The passage was flooded with the light from a bare bulb, revealing that it led directly into the servants’ dining room and then the kitchen.
“Fire!” I yelled in case any of the servants slept down here. “Fire! Get out!” There was no reaction so I guessed that the servants slept on the top floor.
I handed the still-groggy Liam over to Bridie. “Take Liam outside. Go around to the front of the house and wait for me,” I said.
“Don’t go back up there again,” Bridie begged. “It might all be on fire by now.”
“I have to,” I said. “The way the fire was racing up the stairwell it could have reached Ivy’s room by now. She’s on the top floor. I have to get her out, and to make sure Captain Sullivan doesn’t try to be too brave and stupid!”
I pushed her in the direction of the back door, then went back up the stairs, my task now a little easier because I had light. As I reached the top of that first flight of stairs smoke swirled toward me, stinging my eyes and making me cough. I peered out into the hallway, but I could no longer see Daniel because the smoke was now so thick.
“Daniel?” I shouted, my voice harsh. I immediately started coughing again. “Daniel? Are you there?” I screamed it this time.
“I thought you’d gone,” he shouted back. “Get out of here now.”
“You get out too. I’m at the servants’ staircase. It leads to the back of the house. Come on. Let’s go. You can’t do anything to stop the flames now.”
I was relieved when a dark shape came toward me. I watched him emerge from the smoke, his face and nightshirt now dirt-streaked. “I have to agree with you,” he said, wiping his face. “It’s raging right up the stairwell. Maybe we can get to the telephone and call the local fire brigade, although I doubt that they’ll have anything powerful enough to stop this. It’s an inferno back there.”
We entered the servants’ passage.
“Where are you going now?” he shouted to me as he saw me head away from the staircase.
“Ivy. She’s still sleeping in that little room next to the nursery,” I shouted back.
“Are you mad? You’re not going up there alone.” He changed direction and followed me. I found the stair that led up and emerged onto the third-floor hallway. Smoke licked along it and at the far end was a red glow and the sound of roaring. I ran down the hall, banging on doors. “Fire! Get out!” I shouted, and got an immediate reaction. Doors opened and terrified maids emerged, wide-eyed, clutching each other.
“Down the stairs,” Daniel shouted to them. “No, don’t go back to get anything.”
Only Ivy had not emerged at the sound of my voice. The flames were already licking at the ceiling and curling into the passage. I could feel the heat as I tried to open her door. It wouldn’t budge.
“Daniel!” I screamed. He ran to me and flung his shoulder at the door. It burst open. I could make out Ivy’s slender form asleep on the bed.
“Ivy, wake up.” I tried to rouse her. She moaned and turned over in sleep.
“Grab one of her arms,” Daniel commanded. Between us we hoisted her from the bed, dragged her down the hall, and then carried her down the stairs. Fortunately she weighed almost nothing, but I was glad he had come with me. I don’t think I could have negotiated two flights of stairs alone with her. It wasn’t until we were outside in the freezing night air that she started coughing and sat up, gasping for air.
“She was already overcome by smoke,” Daniel said. “If we hadn’t reached her soon, it would have been too late.”
But my mind was moving along a different track. The girl that couldn’t be roused. The door that wouldn’t open. It seemed to me all too possible that Cedric had decided to get rid of an unwanted daughter by starting a fire that would impact her room before all others.
At the fr
ont of the house we found a huddled knot of people standing together. I spotted Daniel’s mother, with her arm around Amy, the girl we had known as Charlotte, who was shivering in a cotton nightgown. I rushed to take Liam from Bridie. He was howling and screaming, “Mama! I want Mama.”
“Thank God.” Daniel’s mother moved toward us as I took Liam into my arms. “And you have Ivy. Is she all right?”
“Smoke inhalation, I think,” Daniel said as Bridie helped lead her to sit on the front steps. “She’ll soon be fine in the fresh air.”
Amy rushed over to her cousin. “Poor Ivy. Is she going to be all right?”
“I think so,” I said.
Amy sat beside her. “Bridie and I will take care of her.”
“Where is Winnie?” I asked, checking around me. “And Miss Lind?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel’s mother said. “Mr. Carmichael led us out. He’s gone to rouse the grounds staff.”
“And Cedric? Where is he?”
“He was here,” Daniel’s mother said. “He went to try and reach the telephone.”
“How did you get out?” I asked. “Is there a back stair to your side of the building?”
“There is. Across from the kitchen there is a passage past the butler’s pantry and the closets,” she said.
I glanced at Daniel. “We should go and see if they need help.”
“You’re not coming,” Daniel said. “You stay here with your son.”
“No, I want to help.”
He put a firm hand on my shoulder. “I can handle it. You stay here.”
“Be careful, Daniel,” I called after him.
Liam was clinging like a limpet to my neck as Daniel took off back toward the house. “It’s all right, my darling. We’re safe. We’re all safe,” I told him. But I kept staring up at the house, that awful red glow between the drapes and the fire now licking at the top-floor windows. Where were Winnie and Florence? Where was Cedric?
Mr. Carmichael had rounded up grounds workers and grooms and they had started a bucket chain from the stream. It seemed like a waste of effort when one could hear the roar of the fire and watch top-floor drapes go up in flames. I found I was holding my breath. It was all I could do to stop myself from rushing after Daniel. Then to my intense relief I saw figures emerging from the darkness. Daniel and Aunt Florence were carrying Winnie between them.