Honorable Doctor, Improper Arrangement

by Mary Nichols

  Simon tried to stay calm but a cold fear was wrapping itself about his heart. ‘Surely she would not do that without telling you first?’

  ‘No, that is what worries me.’

  ‘Does Viscount Cranford know she is missing?’

  ‘No. I went to his London house, but I was told he was not at home. The butler told me he had taken Mrs Withersfield and his daughters back to Cranford Manor.’

  ‘You do not suppose Kate has gone with them, do you?’

  ‘That is unlikely. She has told the man she will not marry him.’

  Simon stared at him in astonishment. ‘She has? Why did she not tell me?’

  ‘According to my mother, she was trying to protect you from calumny.’

  ‘Good heavens!’ Some of the strange things Kate had said and done suddenly became clear. Oh, foolish, foolish girl! He would have something to say to her when he found her. When he found her. ‘I will go out and search for her.’ He picked up his coat and shrugged himself into it as he spoke.

  ‘Do you know where to look?’

  ‘No. I shall scour the streets, go to the coaching inns and the cab drivers, ask anyone who will listen.’

  ‘Thank you. My carriage is outside. Just in case the Viscount does know where she is, I will go to Cranford Manor. His lordship ought to be informed in any case.’

  Simon was halfway to the door. ‘How long will it take you?’

  ‘An hour, perhaps a little longer in each direction, a few minutes to ascertain if Kate is there. Three hours, perhaps four, considering it will be dark for the return journey.’

  Simon looked at his fob watch. ‘It is eight o’clock. I will call on you at Holles Street at midnight, always supposing I have not found her by then.’ He paused to bang the front door shut behind them. ‘Or would you rather I waited until morning?’

  ‘No, I would not sleep in any case. Come, no matter what time it is.’ He gave instructions to Daniels and clambered into his coach. ‘God go with you, my boy. I know how hard this is for you.’ And then he shut the door and rapped on the roof with his cane.

  Simon set off at a run for Oxford Street, musing on what the older man had meant. Had he made his feelings for Kate so obvious? Had others noticed? Was that the reason for that farce of an inquiry—to get him out of the way? He wasn’t going, not yet, not until Kate was found at any rate. Supposing she had been injured in a road accident and taken off to an infirmary, no one knowing who she was? If she had, it must have happened almost immediately after they parted, which was only two minutes from her own front door.

  He knocked on every door on her route, demanding to know if there had been an incident, anything out of the ordinary in the street outside that afternoon about three o’clock. Some, realising the urgency of his enquiry, answered civilly; others were distinctly rude that he had interrupted their dinner and sent him on his way. He went home, was about to saddle his horse, then decided if he found Kate he would need a conveyance to take her home, so he hitched up his gig instead and visited every infirmary, every workhouse, every coffee shop within a two-mile radius. Against the explicit instructions of the Hartingdon Trustees, he roused the families of every child who had been in the Hartingdon Home in the last three months. None had seen Mrs Meredith. Then he went to the coaching inns, rushing from one to the next, all in vain. The man who had hired the coach out to Barber was still waiting for him to return it.

  It was nearing midnight and he had still not been everywhere, but he had a feeling he was wasting his time. He made his way to Holles Street, hoping and praying the Kate had returned safe and sound.

  The Reverend Morland, looking old and exhausted, was waiting up for him. ‘She wasn’t at Cranford Manor,’ he said. ‘Neither was the Viscount. Mrs Withersfield told me he had taken her and the girls home and left again. I must have passed him on the road. What did you discover?’

  ‘Nothing. You would think someone had seen her, wouldn’t you? She was less than five minutes from home when I spoke to her. How I wish I had insisted on escorting her the rest of the way. If I had…’He stopped, reliving for the hundredth time that painful parting.

  ‘Do not blame yourself. Whatever happened, I am sure Kate was not a party to it. She would never distress us unnecessarily. Something dreadful has happened to her. My mother is distraught and has been given a strong tisane to help her to sleep. I am fagged out, but reluctant to go to bed.’

  ‘You cannot do anything more tonight,’ Simon told him. ‘We’ll start again at first light.’

  ‘Yes. Goodnight, Doctor.’

  Simon left him and returned to pounding the streets. He peered down alleys, under archways, down cellar steps, in the gardens of the elegant squares. He even went in search of Harry Tomkins and enlisted his help; Harry knew the darker side of London, the mean streets, the low taverns, the ruffians who made their money in a thousand nefarious ways, including kidnapping wealthy young ladies for ransom. Harry was initially put out at being woken from his bed, but when Simon explained what he wanted, he promised to keep his ear to the ground.

  It was almost dawn and a rosy glow outlined the chimney pots and spires to the east when Simon decided that neither he nor his horse could stay on their feet any longer. He went home and sprawled on the sofa, too exhausted to undress and go to bed.

  Kate woke to the gentle rocking of the boat, wondering for a moment where she was. Apart from the sound of lapping water and a gull calling somewhere, there was no sound. Beside her, little Joe slept. She lay there, still fully dressed, covered by a far-from-clean blanket and went over the events of the previous day.

  From the position of the sun while there was daylight left, she knew they had travelled in a north-easterly direction the day before, rattling through small towns and villages. They had stopped for a change of horses four times; calculating that was done every twelve miles at the pace they were doing, they were about forty-eight miles from London. That is, if they had gone in a straight line; she could not even be sure of that. She had been allowed to alight when they stopped, when Barber bought her drink and food and allowed her to use the inn’s conveniences on her promise not to run away while his back was turned. She would not have done that in any case, knowing he was taking her to Joe. What he intended after that, she had no idea. She did wonder how he could afford to hire the coach, change the horses and buy refreshment, but then remembered Captain Feltwell had paid him for his evidence at the inquiry.

  It had been fully dark when they stopped and Alf jumped out and held the door for her. She remembered stepping out onto muddy grass. By the light of a fitful moon, she had seen the glint of water, but no buildings and no trees except a few drooping willows. He had dismissed the coachman and led her to a rickety wooden landing stage where a small boat was moored. In the dark it had been difficult to see what kind of boat it was, but she calculated it was about the length of her father’s drawing room. ‘Get on board,’ he had commanded, giving her a none-too-gentle push in the back.

  It was difficult because she could not see where to put her feet and the gap between the landing stage and the boat seemed to grow wider as she tried to step over it. Alf pushed past her, jumped on board and grabbed her hand. ‘Come on, I’ve got you.’

  She jumped, half-expecting to be thrown down into the water and crushed, but found herself on the deck. He went towards what looked like the outline of a hut, opened a door and clattered down some steps. She hesitated, wondering whether to follow him. She heard him strike a flint and then the steps were illuminated by a lantern. Gingerly she made her way down them.

  The first thing she noticed was the smell, and almost at the same moment Joey asleep on a bunk, tied by his wrists to its supports. The smell was coming from him.

  ‘Good god, man!’ she exclaimed, rushing to untie the child. ‘Have you left him here like that all day?’

  ‘Had to. He’s all right. You clean him up while I get us some food.’

  Joe had woken and turned a tear-streaked face towa
rds her. ‘It’s all right, sweetheart,’ she said soothingly because he seemed not to know where he was. ‘It’s Mrs Kate, I’ve come to look after you.’

  He silently held out his arms and she pulled him to her, kissing his tear-stained cheeks and his poor, chafed wrists.

  She took off his filthy clothes, dressed him in some fresh clothes Alf had brought for him and nursed him until he went to sleep again. She would not put him down and ate the food Alf produced from the galley with one hand, and afterwards lay down beside the little boy. Where Alf went she had no idea.

  And now the morning had come and somehow she had to persuade Barber to take them back to London. Papa and Grandmama must be worried to death about her disappearance. Would they have started searching? Would anyone believe that she had not gone of her own accord? Would she be labelled notorious as well as eccentric? Had Simon been alerted? Oh, Simon, I seem to be in an even bigger coil than I was before, she thought.

  Joey stirred and started to whimper, so she thrust her own concerns aside and gathered him into her arms to soothe him. He did not speak, had not uttered a word since she arrived.

  The boat had rocked on its moorings all night, but now she realised with a start that the rhythm of it had changed and the river bank was gliding past the little port hole. They were on the move. ‘Where are we going?’ she shouted, not knowing where Alf was.

  He came in bearing a plate of bacon, eggs and bread and set it on the table in the middle of the tiny cabin. Then he fetched cutlery from a drawer and put it beside the plate. ‘Breakfast,’ he said.

  It looked greasy, but she realised she was hungry and refusing to eat would not help. She offered some to Joe, who shook his head and shut his mouth firmly against any attempt to persuade him to eat. ‘Come, sweetheart, just a little bit,’ she coaxed. ‘I am going to have some. It looks delicious.’ She put a forkful into her own mouth and pierced another tiny piece of bacon and offered it to him. He opened his mouth a fraction and she popped it in. By dint of alternating her own forkfuls with a little for him, she managed to get a good breakfast into him, which was washed down with weak tea. She did not trust the water, fearing it came from the river.

  ‘It’s the first ’e’s eaten since I fetched ’im,’ Alf said, looking up through the companionway to see the horse he had hitched to the tow rope plodding stoically along the towpath.

  ‘Poor little fellow,’ Kate said. ‘How frightened he must have been all that time alone. It was cruel of you. What if something had happened to the boat and it sank? He would have drowned.’

  ‘Didn’t hev no choice.’

  ‘You could have taken him back to his mother.’

  ‘She don’t want ’im, too wrapped up in that doctor cove.’

  ‘I am sure that is not true. Poor little chap. Have you any idea what it’s like to be small and afraid and insecure?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I know what tha’s like, all right. I knew what it were like afore I were his age.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I want to understand.’

  He looked at her for a moment, apparently considering this, before speaking. ‘I don’t remember my father,’ he said. ‘I don’t reckon my mother knew who he were either. She were a whore, you see.’

  ‘Oh.’ Kate stifled her feeling of revulsion. ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘She died in the gutter. I were looked after for a time by older street boys, but one day I were caught with a gold watch that weren’t mine and into chokey I went. When I came out I were sent to a charity school and when I were a bit older, I was sent as an apprentice to a printer. Then I met Janet. She were a pretty little thing, daughter of an innkeeper and way above me, but we ’it it off. When she got with child, her pa hustled us to church. Weren’t sure I were ready for that…’ He gave a grunt of a laugh. ‘Then he washed ’is ’ands of ’er. You know the rest.’

  ‘But you did love each other?’

  He shrugged, as if love was something alien to him. They would have been happy enough, he told her, if he could have found work, but the only accommodation they could afford was that dreadful place in Seven Dials. Maiden Lane was better, but he resented the fact that it was Dr Redfern who provided that. It was up to him to provide for his family, not some toff.

  ‘I am sorry,’ Kate said, feeling the first stirrings of pity for him. ‘I am trying to understand how you feel, but surely you must want Joe to have a better life than you had.’

  ‘Course I do. I didn’t ’ave a pa, but ’e’s got one and I mean to mek sure he keeps ’im.’

  ‘He won’t if you are sent to prison again.’

  ‘What for? I ain’t done nothin’ wrong. I c’n tek my boy for a little ’oliday, if I choose.’

  ‘Yes, but you kidnapped me. That’s a different thing altogether.’

  ‘I needed you. See, Joey is ’appy now you’re here.’

  ‘But I can’t stay, Mr Barber, you must see that. We have to go back. If you take us back now, today, I will say I came with you of my own accord.’ She paused, considering the implications of that, but decided it was too late to worry about her reputation. ‘Everyone will be searching for me and the longer you keep me, the worse it will be for you.’ She asked herself if she could bear to leave Joey alone with him, even if he let her go, and realised she could not. She might as well say goodbye to the shreds of her reputation; even when she did return, she would be labelled a… No, she could not put a name to it.

  ‘They won’t find you. I want you here until Joey settles down.’

  She tried arguing with him, but that only made him angry and he said if she didn’t shut up, he’d tie her up and gag her. ‘And who will look after Joe if you do that?’ she asked evenly. If she wanted to escape she would have to swim for it because they were out in the middle of the river and she would not even try because of Joe. She had no idea where they were.

  The vessel was a houseboat intended to pull a string of barges. It had a galley with a fire where the cooking was done and two cabins, one of which also did duty as a living room—not, he told her, that the men who worked the barges had time to sit about. Normally when working the rivers and canals a whole string of barges was pulled behind the houseboat by a horse on the towpath, but sometimes when the weather was suitable they used sails.

  After another hour or so—she had no idea of the time—they came to a wide expanse of water, where he punted them into the bank, unhitched the horse, tied it to a stake and then set a brown sail. As it filled he pulled the tiller over and they moved out into the middle of a large lake. She could barely see the far bank. It was going to be a long, long day.

  She set about tidying the cabin, sorting through the clothes Alf had brought on board for Joe, and finding out what provisions he had, wondering, as she did so, if he might be forced to find civilisation in order to buy food. If they did, she might find a way of making her predicament known to someone.

  Simon woke when dawn dispersed the shadows in his drawing room and he was able to make out the shape of the furniture and realised he was still on the sofa. He got up stiffly, raked his fingers through his hair, and went to his room where he rang for Harvey and ordered hot water for a wash and shave, and some toast and coffee for his breakfast. Half an hour later, dressed in a brown frockcoat, beige pantaloons and calf-length boots, he left his lodgings to go to Holles Street, hoping for good news.

  But there was none. Kate was still missing and Lady Morland was prostrate with despair and had not left her room since the previous afternoon. Simon and the Reverend spoke for a minute or two about what could be done to further the search, but neither could think of anything.

  ‘We cannot give up,’ Simon said, guessing that the older man knew the truth of his feelings for Kate and wondered how many other people had noticed. ‘She must be found, please God, alive and well.’

  Simon left him to start his search all over again, but he knew they needed a miracle. And then one came.

  He had gon
e home for a bite to eat and a change of clothes when he heard Harvey arguing with someone at the front door. He went out in his shirt sleeves to find out what the commotion was about, discovered Janet Barber on his step with a plump woman dressed in a wide black skirt and a huge shawl. She had heavy boots on her feet and a battered bonnet on her iron-grey hair.

  ‘Let us in,’ Janet was saying, trying to push past Harvey who blocked the entrance. ‘We must see the doctor.’

  ‘Mrs Barber, you know you should not come here,’ Simon said.

  ‘But I know where Alf have took Joe. This here’s Mrs Bedson and she come to tell me.’

  ‘I am sorry, Mrs Barber, but I have other things occupying me at the moment. Mrs Meredith has disappeared too.’

  ‘I reckon she’s with him,’ Mrs Bedson said. ‘He told me he were goin’ to get someone to look after the boy. I couldn’ do a thing with ’im meself. Cried and screamed, he did, flung ’is food all over the place and the crockery with it. Bit me too. I’d do anythin’ for Alf, but I weren’t ’avin’ me home wrecked, so I told ’im to tek the boy somewhere else.’

  ‘And?’ Simon, having sent Harvey for his coat, was shrugging himself into it. ‘Do you know where he went?’

  ‘I told ’im he could use my boat. ’Tis moored on the Stour.’

  ‘And you think Mrs Meredith is with them?’

  ‘Don’t know the lady’s name, but he said he knew someone who’d looked after Joey afore and the boy trusted her.’

  That was enough for Simon. ‘Come on, you can tell me the details on the way. He ran to the mews, followed by the two women. He harnessed the gig, all three squeezed into it and he set off for Holles Street. The Reverend was told the news and Simon asked if he might borrow his carriage and Daniels to drive it, a request that was unhesitatingly complied with. While it was being got ready, the Reverend told Simon that he had not been able to see the Viscount. On the eve of his wedding he seemed to have disappeared too. Simon was too absorbed with worrying about Kate to bother his head with that.