Honorable Doctor, Improper Arrangement

by Mary Nichols

  ‘I have suggested my nephew should live abroad for a time,’ Lady Redfern said.

  Kate turned to him. ‘Will you?’

  ‘It depends on the outcome of the inquiry. If I am found guilty…’

  ‘God forbid!’ his aunt exclaimed. ‘We should never live it down.’

  ‘When is the inquiry to be?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Next Monday at the Hartingdon Home. Three of the charity’s Trustees will sit in judgement on me.’

  ‘I shall be thinking of you.’

  He bowed. ‘Thank you.’

  There was nothing else that could usefully be said and Kate took her leave. Daniels was standing beside the coach, waiting to open the door for her. She had hardly settled herself when Simon dashed from the house and leaned into the vehicle. ‘I could not let you go without thanking you for your faith in me. It will sustain me in my ordeal.’

  ‘I intend to be there in the flesh as well as in spirit.’

  ‘Not a good idea, Kate, not a good idea at all.’ He clambered into the coach and sat beside her. Daniels took this as a signal that he was being taken up and shut the door. ‘You will not be allowed to speak and the last thing I want is for any of the mud to stick to you.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I shall be there.’ The carriage gave a jolt as they began to move off. She forced a laugh. ‘It seems I am abducting you.’

  ‘I can think of no sweeter abduction.’

  ‘Don’t, please don’t.’ There was anguish in her voice. ‘I am to be married…’

  ‘And I wish you were not. It is my fate that I met you too late. Do you think you will be happy?’

  How could she answer that truthfully? ‘We cannot see into the future,’ she said slowly. ‘But I know Robert will be a good husband and I shall want for nothing.’

  ‘That does not answer my question.’

  ‘And why is it so important to have an answer? It will not change anything.’

  ‘No, you are right. But will you remember one thing? If you ever need me, I will come to you, no matter how far, nor how long the time that has intervened.’

  ‘Simon, you are being fantastical. You will marry and have a brood of children and be a wonderful husband and father, and in the fullness of time will become Lord Redfern. This time in London will become a distant memory. The gossip will be forgotten. I certainly hope so.’ Oh, the effort it took to say all that!

  ‘Bless you, but one cannot order one’s memory, or one’s heart.’ He took her hand and raised it to his lips, making her shiver with tension. It would not take much on his part to make her throw herself into his arms to relieve it.

  ‘Not on my account, Simon, please.’

  ‘I wish you happy, Kate. It is all I wish.’ He rapped on the roof, to let Daniels know he wanted to alight. The coach drew to a stop. He had no idea where they were, nor did he care that he would have a long walk back. Those last few minutes with her were precious and would remain with him along with other memories: Kate rescuing Joe from the Serpentine, Kate playing with the children, Kate laughing, Kate with Joe on her lap, kissing the top of his head, Kate playing hoopla at the Hampstead fair, Kate dancing a waltz in the schoolroom, a lifetime of memories crammed into a few short weeks. He kissed her cheek and was gone.

  She leaned forwards but she could only see his blurred form striding away because of her tears. She pulled the door shut. ‘Home, Daniels,’ she said, then leaned back and gave way to her misery as the coach moved off again.

  Reluctant to go home, Simon walked the streets until he was exhausted, but it did not help—he could not stop thinking about Kate. Had he felt as bad as this when Isobel had jilted him for his cousin? He did not think so. There was no comparison between the two women, nor his feelings for them. The one was an immature infatuation, the other something so deep, so lasting, it could never be erased. Kate was part of him, part of his mind and body, his very essence. There was nothing he could do to ease the pain, however much he wished otherwise, but he could try to clear his name and begin all over again.

  But not with The Society for the Welfare of Destitute Children—that avenue was closed to him now, Lady Eleanor had made that abundantly clear. It would have to be something new. He could follow his aunt’s suggestion and live abroad; there were destitute children all over the world. He would never have any of his own now. Reluctantly, he turned his steps towards Piccadilly and home.

  The panel, making up the inquiry into Simon’s conduct, consisted of three of the Society’s Trustees: Earl Hardingham, Sir Abraham Lyons, a wealthy industrialist, and Lady Somerton, a widow and old school friend of Lady Eleanor. They were sitting at a table on which were scattered bundles of papers. Lady Eleanor sat to one side, a few feet from Simon, who had been brought in and asked to sit in a chair facing the panel.

  Kate, dressed in her grey cambric dress, a light shawl and a plain bonnet with a big brim, was sitting in the body of the hall along with a crowd of interested spectators and several newspapermen. How they had heard about it, she did not know. Her father and grandmother had tried to persuade her not to come, that she ought to distance herself from the doctor, but how could she stay away when the man she loved was fighting for his reputation and his right to administer to the destitute of the city?

  Sitting where she was, she could only see his profile: his long straight nose, firm chin and jaw. He appeared calm, but she could tell by the way he held his head that he was tense. Every now and again his jaw twitched and occasionally he ran his hand through his fair hair. She did not think he had seen her, but that did not matter, she was there, every fibre of her reaching out to him, silently giving him her support. If he had allowed it, she would have spoken in his defence, but he had been adamant she was to stay silent.

  The first witness to be called was Alf Barber, who was sober, shaved and had made an effort to smarten himself up. He was deferential, toadying to the panel as he told of returning home from a hard day’s work to find his wife and Dr Redfern locked in each other’s arms. He had seen red. ‘Who wouldn’t?’ he demanded. ‘I pulled ’im off her and ’it him. Can you blame me?’

  He was asked if he had any idea before that, that the doctor had designs on his wife.

  ‘No, your honours, but he did call at the house a lot, said it was to check on Joey. Didn’ need to do that, did ’e? Joey were all right.’

  ‘But you did hurt your son—wasn’t he taken from your house because he was in danger?’

  ‘That were an accident. I knocked his cot over and he fell out.’

  ‘How did that happen?’

  Alf looked across the room at the spectators as if seeking guidance. Kate, curious as to who might be coaching him, turned and saw Captain Feltwell and Mrs Withersfield sitting together. The Captain gave him an almost imperceptible nod. What in heaven’s name had they got against Simon? For a second time she wondered if it was Robert’s doing. He had said he would blacken Simon’s name, but that was before she had agreed to marry him after all. Protecting Simon had been the only reason she had retracted her rejection. She sat there fuming on his behalf, only half-listening to the evidence.

  ‘Jan and me were having an argument and it got a bit rumbustious. It were somethin’ and nothin’, no reason to take our son from us. We want ’im back.’

  ‘All in good time,’ Sir Abraham told him. ‘What did Dr Redfern do when you hit him? Did he defend himself? Did he hit you?’

  ‘Didn’ give ’im the chance. Laid ’im out I did.’ There was a titter at this which was quickly silenced. ‘Then the watchman arrived and took him away.’

  They let him go and his wife was sent for. Kate gasped when she saw her. Someone had helped to make her look her best. She was shining with cleanliness, her fair hair had been washed and brushed and was held back with a dainty ribbon. Her dress was a striped gingham in pale lemon and cream, fastened under the bust with a wide yellow band. He feet were encased in cream stockings and tan leather shoes, every item of which looked brand new. Kate was mor
e than ever convinced someone was behind this farce of an enquiry and she did not have to look far to discover who that might be. Why? Why persecute a good man?

  She forced herself to pay attention, to hear Janet saying, in a voice that had also been carefully schooled to eliminate the dropped consonants and tortured vowels, that Dr Redfern forced his attentions on her and she did not know how she would have escaped if her husband had not returned at that moment to rescue her. It took all Kate’s self-control not to cry out that the woman was lying.

  At last Simon was allowed to tell his side of the story. He spoke firmly, explaining how he came to have his arms round Mrs Barber, answered the panel’s numerous questions without hesitation, even when they asked the same ones over and over again until his head was spinning. He had not retaliated when struck because he did not want to make a bad situation worse and he had expected Mrs Barber to explain exactly what had happened after he left. No one could have been more surprised than he was when he found himself accused.

  Lady Eleanor was asked about his character and his work for the charity. She agreed that perhaps he had a tendency to become too involved with the families in his care. She had warned him about it on several occasions. Simon wished she would come down firmly on his side instead of maintaining that cool impartial attitude. It was damning with faint praise and did more harm than good. Kate, bless her, had offered to give evidence on his behalf, but he could not allow that. It would do her reputation no good, Cranford would be disagreeable about it and the panel would cross-examine her and somehow his feelings for her would be exposed.

  At last the questions came to an end, but the ordeal was not over because Earl Hartingdon announced that the panel needed to deliberate and would pronounce their verdict in a week’s time. In the meantime, Dr Redfern was not to go anywhere near Mrs Barber or her child. There was a murmur among the audience who had expected to be able to relay the doctor’s disgrace to all their friends who could not get into the room, and were now deprived of the juiciest bit of gossip. Not that an innocent verdict would help very much; he was already condemned in the eyes of the haut monde.

  Simon turned to go and suddenly saw Kate, who was standing up with the rest of the crowd. His eyes lit up and a faint smile hovered about his lips, though there was nothing to smile at, nothing at all. She was pushing her way through the crowd, not making for the door as everyone else was doing, but straight for him. ‘Kate, I told you not to come.’

  ‘I could not stay away. They were dreadful, weren’t they? All those personal questions. You were so calm, I would have been angry and shouting. I wanted to tell everyone you were innocent.’

  ‘I was far from calm. And inside I was shouting to the heavens, but they were only doing their job and it could have been worse. Now, I am going home and you must too…’ He looked up. ‘What the devil are they doing here?’

  She turned in the direction he was looking. Two pairs of eyes were watching them. ‘Oh, the Captain is only here to gossip, you know what he is like.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ he said. ‘Good day to you, Mrs Meredith.’ He bowed formally and hurried away, leaving her standing alone and puzzled.

  He hated himself for doing that to her, but those two boded ill. They would make the most of her association with him and the fact that Joe was staying with her. He had to disassociate himself from her as quickly and firmly as he could for her sake.

  Kate managed to incline her head in a coolly polite greeting as she passed them and hurried away. Mrs Withersfield would undoubtedly tell Robert she had seen her, even if the Captain did not. She would be in for another jobation. She wondered if it would be enough to make Robert refuse to marry her, but decided it would not. His pride was at stake.

  There were cabs to be had, but she felt like a walk after sitting in the stuffy room for so long and she wanted to think. Mrs Barber had lied, she was convinced of it. Someone had put her up to it, given her new clothes, probably money, too, to besmirch Simon’s name. Could she be persuaded to retract her evidence and tell the truth? How? Kate did not have the resources to buy her off.

  Deep in thought, she hardly noticed a coach pull up beside her until she heard her name. It was Lady Eleanor. ‘Katherine, get in, do, you should not be walking unaccompanied. The tattlemongers have enough to talk about without you adding to it.’

  Kate climbed in and took her seat next to her ladyship. A companion occupied the facing seat.

  ‘I was surprised to see you at the inquiry, Katherine,’ her ladyship said as the coach moved off.

  ‘Someone had to support Dr Redfern. All his so-called friends seem to have deserted him.’

  ‘You could do nothing to help him and you have jeopardised your own reputation. For someone who aspires to be a Viscountess, you have a strange notion of propriety.’

  ‘Why did you not defend him? You know as well as I do that there is nothing in Mr Barber’s allegation. And did you ever before see Mrs Barber dressed like that? Someone is determined to ruin the doctor. What I want to know is why?’

  ‘Could it be because he is seeing too much of you?’

  ‘Me? Whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘The rumours are not all about Dr Redfern and the Barbers, you know.’

  ‘Oh, you are referring to Captain Feltwell and his vicious gossip. I take no note of that and nor would anyone else with a grain of sense. I am not a silly chit of a girl, I am a mature widow and may go out and about with whom I please. And if Dr Redfern is so kind as to take me up in his gig and save me a long walk, then why should I not accept?’

  ‘Because it simply is not done. And you have resurrected all the old rumours about Dr Redfern that we had thought he had lived down.’

  ‘What old rumours are you referring to?’

  ‘He was once engaged to Lady Isobel Stewart-Smith and jilted her two weeks before the wedding. He could not face the thought of being leg-shackled and ran off to the Continent. The poor girl was heartbroken.’

  ‘She was not heartbroken for long,’ Kate said. ‘She married his cousin.’

  ‘So she did. I gather he was a great comfort to her.’

  ‘I do not think we should be having this conversation, my lady. It is not fair to talk about people behind their backs.’

  ‘I only mentioned it to warn you. Now let us not go over the past and talk of the future. I was coming to see you in any case. About Joseph Barber.’

  ‘What about him? Do you think I am not looking after him properly?’

  To some extent, looking after him had taken Kate’s mind of her other problem, but it had not gone away and would not go away. She loved Simon Redfern with every fibre of her being, nothing could alter that, but in less than a week she was due to pledge her love and her life to Viscount Robert Cranford. Could she still go through with it? But if she did not, the consequences would be dire. She would be shunned by polite society, unmarriageable to anyone who valued their reputation and Robert would surely see to it that Dr Redfern’s name would be dragged through the mud all over again.

  ‘Oh, I am sure you are. But Mrs Barber would like to visit her son.’

  ‘She can do that at any time. I am not keeping her from him. It is Mr Barber I worry about. Joe’s bruises are fading and his arm is healing, but he still cries at the sound of raised voices and flinches whenever a door bangs.’

  ‘Does he?’ Eleanor sounded surprised. ‘But you are right. I am not inclined to let him go home until we can be sure his father will not harm him, but perhaps Mrs Barber can come and visit him at Holles Street.’

  ‘Of course. I have no objection.’ It occurred to Kate that she might question the girl and get to the bottom of her perfidy.

  ‘Then will it be convenient to bring Mrs Barber to Holles Street tomorrow afternoon?’

  ‘Yes, of course. We will expect you.’

  The coach was drawing up at Hartingdon House. It was only a short step to Holles Street and Kate said she could easily walk the rest of the way. Surprisingly Eleano
r did not argue.

  Chapter Ten

  Lady Eleanor and Mrs Barber arrived the next afternoon in the old coach with the Hartingdon Home name on it; Kate suspected Eleanor would not have the girl in her own carriage. Susan showed them into the drawing room where Lady Morland, full of curiosity, waited with Kate. Lady Eleanor greeted her great-aunt and took the seat she was offered, leaving Mrs Barber standing uncertainly.

  Kate presented Janet to her grandmother and then hurried to fetch Joe. She carried him down from the nursery and stood him on his feet at the door of the drawing room, expecting him to run to his mother, but he hid behind her skirts, sucking his thumb. Gently she plucked him out. ‘Look, Joe, there is your mama come to see you. Go and give her a kiss.’

  He hesitated and Kate took his hand and led him forwards. Janet, too scared to move from the square foot of carpet on which she stood, waited for them to approach, then squatted down and held out her arms. ‘Joey, love, come to your ma.’

  He ran to her and Kate breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I thought we might have a picnic in the park,’ she said, having guessed that Janet would feel uncomfortable and overawed in the Holles Street drawing room, especially if her grandmother started to quiz her. ‘Would you like to join us, Lady Eleanor?’

  ‘No, I haven’t the time. I will call back later to take Mrs Barber home.’

  ‘I can do that,’ Kate said. If, in taking the girl, she were to run into Simon, she could find out how he was, talk to him, reassure him of her continued support. Her hunger for him was such that even a sight of him might assuage a little of it. Oh, she knew she was being foolish, more than that, utterly mad, but she could not help it. Her body ached for him, her mouth craved his. One kiss to last a life time; it was not enough.