The Ravenscar Dynasty by Barbara Taylor Bradford
The boy hurried off with the small haul of fish, walking rapidly down the corridor.
Will and Edward followed at a slower pace, a compatible silence between them. After they went into the library Will said, ‘Once we have that information, everything can go ahead according to Neville. There’s nothing else we’re waiting for, not really.’
Walking across the floor, going to stand in front of the roaring fire, still chilled from his sojourn on the beach, Edward nodded. ‘I’m anxious to get things moving, to be honest. The sooner the better. There’s no real reason to wait, once those telegrams are received. I don’t want John Summers and that bloody woman to do any more damage.’
He sighed and went to sit in a chair nearby, looked across at Will. ‘There’s a lot of rebuilding to do, of that I am absolutely certain. Rob Aspen and Alfredo Oliveri, and Christopher Green as well actually, will quickly pull the mining division into shape, but the vineyards in France are in need of an overhaul, and somebody will have to look after the northern offices. Things have grown slack, in my estimation.’
‘Perhaps Johnny will agree to do that,’ Will suggested. ‘After all, he has a fund of knowledge about the north, after working for Neville all these years, and he has a family home in Yorkshire.’
‘I expect he will have to take on that burden, if only for a short while. But I’ll miss him, Will, he’s invaluable.’ Edward smiled at his friend with affection, swiftly added, ‘I certainly can’t let you work up here in the north. I need you in London with me.’
‘And that’s where I want to be. By the way, Ned, I spoke to Vicky while you were off fishing. And—’
‘Did she mention Lily?’ Ned asked eagerly, cutting across him.
‘She certainly did. Lily is fine, and she’s expecting you next week. If you go up to town I’ll go with you, and Johnny will have to come, too. You know Neville’s a stickler about protecting you.’
‘Of course, there’s no question about that. Is that all she had to say about Lily?’
‘She confided that your darling Lily was looking beautiful, that she was in good health, and that the baby was showing a little, and that was about it.’
Edward grinned. ‘Can you imagine that I’m going to become a father? It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?’
Will merely grinned, and exclaimed, ‘And Vicky might well become a mother, Ned. She and Stephen are thinking about adopting that little girl Amos found in a cart. Don’t you remember, he told us all about it at the last meeting we had. He seemed oddly touched by the child, and so is Vicky. More than that, actually, old chap. She’s gone a bit potty about her, according to Stephen. However, he’s all for the adoption because Vicky hasn’t been able to become pregnant.’
‘I think that’s wonderful, and such a kindness to the child,’ Edward replied. ‘From what Finnister told us, the girl is rather pretty, isn’t she?’
‘Yes. Still, they don’t know anything about her. Vicky told me that when they took her in at Haddon House she was sort of…well, permanently attached to a cloth bag and wouldn’t be separated from it. Eventually they did get her to show them some of the things inside. There was nothing to explain who she was. So they call her Rose.’
‘Can they adopt her?’ Edward wondered out loud. ‘I mean, who are they adopting her from? She was homeless, on her own, can’t they just…take her in and bring her up as theirs? It’s ludicrous to talk of adoption.’
‘Good Lord, I hadn’t thought about that!’ Will exclaimed. ‘Perhaps you’re correct, maybe they don’t have to do anything legal. Anyway, Fenella knows Hugh Codrill, the barrister, and he’s apparently going to advise them.’
‘Then they’re in good hands.’
Before dinner that night, Edward went to his mother’s upstairs sitting room. She was alone, reading a book in front of the fire; she looked up, and put it down when he came into the small boudoir.
‘Yes, Ned, what is it?’ she asked, smiling at him, beckoning him to enter.
‘Can we talk for a few moments?’
‘But of course we can. Is something troubling you?’
‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact it is. I’m troubled about the tiaras, Mother. I don’t want you to sell them so that you can buy me a house, in order for me to create my own household.’
‘Ned, there’s no other way to do it!’
‘I think there will be and really rather soon.’
Cecily frowned. ‘You do? Please explain, darling.’
‘We have an enormous amount of evidence against the Grants and their adherents,’ Ned confided. ‘It’s going to sink them once and for all. Actually, we could go ahead now, but Neville wants to wait until we have some telegrams which are coming soon from India. Oliveri has a good friend out there, a man called David Westmouth, and he’s finally got the goods on Aubrey Masters and his dealings with the locals, those who are involved in the skimming I told you about. So, we’re mounting a case and then we’ll request permission to present it to the board.’
‘I understand…when do you think you will do this?’ she asked, her excitement reflected in her eyes, her expression eager.
‘I hope it will be only a few weeks from now. In May.’
Now Cecily could not keep the smile off her face. She beamed at her eldest son and asked, ‘Why are you still standing there? Come and sit with me for a moment, and tell me more.’
He did as she asked, lowered himself into a chair next to the fire, and explained, ‘There’s not a lot to tell, Mother. You already know most of it.’
‘When are you going to London?’
‘Next week. For a few days only, and then I’ll be back for about a week. After that I’m going to be needed in town. You do understand, don’t you?’
‘Oh yes, I do, darling, I really do. I plan to remain here at Ravenscar for the summer. I know the London Season’s not over, but that doesn’t matter since we are a family in mourning and cannot participate. Therefore, in my opinion, we’re better off here, and I think the children agree.’
‘I know Richard does…he loves Ravenscar.’
‘So does George, you know.’
‘Yes, that’s true,’ Edward agreed, and thought: he would love it for himself.
‘You will be running Deravenels, won’t you, Ned?’ Cecily suddenly asked, startling him.
‘I will.’
‘And Neville?’
‘Ah yes, Cousin Neville. Mmmmm. Let me think…he will be advising me, helping me wherever he can, as will Johnny and Will.’
There was a pause.
Cecily was totally silent.
‘What is it, Mother?’ he asked finally when she remained mute.
‘What does Neville hope to gain from all of this, Ned? He is the greatest magnate in England, and probably the richest. He already has everything. He doesn’t need to help you run Deravenels…’
‘I know that as well as you do, and I suppose he does, too. On the other hand, his father backed my father, the true heir to Deravenels. I believe he feels totally committed to do the same for me. There’s his pride involved you know, and honour. And another thing. I would say he wants…power.’
‘Oh, Ned, surely he has enough power.’
‘When is enough enough for an ambitious man?’
‘So what you are saying is that Neville wants power through you. Is that it?’
‘To a certain extent.’
‘Oh, Ned, be careful.’
‘I am not a toy on a string, he is not my puppet-master. He doesn’t control me. I am my own man.’
‘Ah, but does he know that?’
‘I should think so…Why Neville has known me all my life, and has only my interests at heart.’
‘I say again, be careful, Ned. Be very careful.’
THIRTY-THREE
‘It’s becoming very painful for me to leave the child at Haddon House,’ Vicky explained, looking from Fenella to her husband Stephen. ‘And I worry about her so much when I’m not here, it’s upsetting my life,
‘I know it is, my dear,’ Stephen said, reaching out, touching her arm lovingly. ‘And I can’t say I blame you. I realize you think there’s a chance someone might come and claim her, or that she might run out into the streets and disappear. However, I don’t believe there is the remotest chance of either of those things happening.’
‘Neither do I!’ Fenella exclaimed. ‘She has become very attached to you, Vicky, we understand that. She took to you the day Amos brought her, and she can’t wait for the days when you come here.’
Stephen Forth sat back in his chair, a reflective expression shadowing his eyes. At forty-two he was a successful banker with a rising career. A man of independent means, through his mother’s family inheritance, he was a Harrow boy and a Cambridge graduate, and something of an intellectual. He was also a practical man, very down to earth, who believed in all things English, in the King, and in God, in that order. He had an enormous sense of justice, of fairness, and he was known for his kindness and charity. His looks were typically English. He had light brown hair and a fair complexion, and his warm brown eyes could fill with compassion or twinkle with fun and mischief. He was usually characterized by everyone as a nice man…nice looking, nice by nature.
Fenella was thinking exactly that at this moment when she said, ‘So you are in agreement with Vicky, Stephen? About adopting Rose?’
‘Oh yes, very much so. I think she is the most adorable child, and we can offer her so much.’ He glanced at Vicky, and added with a smile, ‘Vicky wants her, needs her in a sense, and so do I. Therefore, I will do anything I can to accomplish the adoption. Also, Fenella, Rose loves Vicky, we see that with our own eyes.’
‘Of course she does—’ There was a knock and Fenella broke off, looked at the door of her office, said, ‘Come in!’
Amos Finnister appeared on the threshold and smiled at them all as he entered. ‘Good afternoon, Lady Fenella, Mrs Forth, Mr Forth. I’m sorry I’m a bit late, but I was delayed on some other business.’
They greeted him warmly, and Fenella said briskly, ‘Thank you for coming this afternoon, Amos, we really do appreciate it. Please, come and sit down.’
Amos did so, and observing the expectant expression on Fenella’s face, he shook his head, and said, ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to find out a thing about little Rose. There are no children missing in the area, in the local streets. I’ve inquired everywhere and I’ve even gone farther afield. Let me put it this way: if a girl is missing nobody’s admitting it, or claiming her.’
Stephen said, ‘And there was nothing in that old cloth bag was there, Vicky? Nothing to give us a clue to her origins?’
Vicky bit her lip. ‘Absolutely not. Unfortunately. Yes, there were some interesting things, but they don’t mean anything to us, in that they don’t reveal anything about her. Obviously they do mean a lot to the child, she becomes frantic when we put the bag away for safekeeping.’
‘Perhaps I could have a look at the things again, later,’ Amos murmured, ‘after we’ve had our meeting. Talk to her about them.’
Vicky agreed. ‘I think that’s a good idea.’
Fenella now said, ‘Well, I do have some good news. I have spoken to Hugh Codrill, and he says he can find no legal reason why you and Stephen cannot adopt Rose, Vicky. Legalities aside, he made inquiries at one of the local Dr Barnardo’s Homes, and they have a good system when they take in children, whether they are off the streets or given up by parents who cannot keep them. For health or financial reasons. Every child is registered at Barnardo’s. Name, date of birth, other family details. When a couple come looking to adopt a child, they are given a copy of the registration certificate, and if they are approved they receive adoption papers drawn up by Barnardo’s.’
Leaning forward over her desk, Fenella finished, ‘And he recommends that we do exactly the same, follow their example.’
Vicky beamed at her. ‘That’s such a relief.’ She glanced at Amos. ‘As I told Lady Fenella, the other day Will asked me how we could adopt a child, when we didn’t know who we were adopting her from. And Mr Codrill has given us the perfect solution.’
‘He has indeed,’ Fenella concurred. ‘He is currently drawing up the appropriate documents, a registration agreement for Haddon House to use now, in order to register Rose and the details of her arrival here. It will be a document that we can have printed later, to use if any other children are found on the streets and brought here. However, I cannot encourage that, since we are not an orphanage but a safe house for destitute and battered women, as you know.’
‘I presume Mr Codrill is also preparing documents for us to sign, Fenella?’ Stephen asked. ‘In other words, proper legal adoption papers?’
‘Exactly, and they will be as watertight as he can make them.’
‘And when will you have the documents, Fenella?’ Vicky asked, her eagerness and excitement apparent.
‘Within the week, but now that Hugh has done his legal research he just advised me that you may take Rose today if you wish.’
On hearing this news tears came into Vicky’s eyes, and she gave Fenella a faltering smile and said, ‘Thank you! Oh, thank you, Fenella,’ her voice thick with emotion.
Her beaming husband put his arm around her shoulders. ‘You see, my darling, everything has worked out perfectly, after all.’
‘I must say, it’s a wonderful relief for me, too,’ Amos murmured, his face also ringed with smiles. ‘I’ve worried about the little bairn for weeks now.’ He smiled at Fenella and said, ‘Thank you, your ladyship. Little Rose owes you a lot—well, we all do, really.’
It was Vanessa Barnes who took charge of the tea in the great room, with Vicky and Fenella helping her. As the women busied themselves, setting up cups and saucers and other accoutrements on the trestle table, Amos and Stephen Forth sat and talked for a few minutes about the mysterious circumstances surrounding Rose.
‘I just can’t understand it,’ Stephen said, sounding astonished. ‘How anyone could push a child like Rose out onto the streets, abandon her in such a way, staggers the imagination. It’s frightening to even contemplate such a thing, never mind knowing it’s actually being done.’
‘There are a lot of monsters passing for human beings out there, Mr Forth,’ Amos said in a sombre voice. ‘Take my word for it. Long before I became a private investigator, working for myself, I was a copper on the beat, right here in Whitechapel.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I can’t begin to tell you what I’ve seen in my day—the most hair-raising things you could possibly conceive.’ He gave Stephen a long look, and continued, after a moment, ‘How any person could throw Rose away like rubbish I’ll never understand. She’s such a beautiful child.’
‘Very, I agree,’ Stephen was quick to say, and then asked, ‘How old do you think she is, Mr Finnister?’
‘Please call me Amos, everyone does. I must admit, her age is hard to figure out. I don’t think she can be any more than five, do you?’
‘Isn’t she a bit tall for five?’ Stephen asked. ‘My wife thinks she’s four, though. And I suppose we’ll never know.’
‘I believe she’s more than four, she’s very bright and intelligent, but not more than five, I’m certain of that. I tried to find out how long she had been on the streets, but she wasn’t able to tell me. She doesn’t have any sense of real time, very few children do as a matter of fact. But she was very dirty, and her clothes were unusually filthy, so I can only think she was out there living in cubby holes and corners, scavenging for herself, for at least three or four weeks, possibly longer.’
An involuntary shudder passed through Stephen and he closed his eyes for a moment; when he opened them there was a strange look in them, a mixture of sorrow and pain most acute. He made no response to Amos’s comment, just sat there looking sickened.
Finally, after a few seconds, Stephen said, ‘When we saw her earlier this afternoon she was bubbling over with happiness that we were here. The
‘I know exactly what you mean, Mr Forth,’ Amos replied. ‘She’s full of life.’
‘That’s a good way of describing her. Yes, Rose is full of joie de vivre.’
‘Amos! Amos!’ a child’s voice rang out, and a moment later Rose was rushing across the floor to greet her friend.
As he watched her draw closer Amos thought she had never looked bonnier. There was a big white ribbon tied on top of her auburn hair, and she wore black stockings, a navy wool dress and a starched white pinafore. He knew they were clothes Vicky had bought for her.
As she drew to a stop Amos grinned and picked her up, and swirled her around. And then he placed her on the floor, noticing at once how steady she was now, not wobbling the way she had when he had first found her.
‘Hello, Rose,’ he said, giving her a broad smile. ‘You look beautiful in your new clothes.’
‘Fank yer,’ she said, and bobbed. ‘Mrs Vicky give ’em ter me. She’s like me Mam.’
Amos took hold of Rose’s hand and led her across to the sofa, where he sat down, and brought her close to his knees, looked into her bright blue eyes. ‘Rose, will you do something for me, please?’
‘Summfink ’ard, is it?’ she asked, looking at him keenly, her head on one side.
‘No, no, it’s not hard. It’s easy. I want you to go to Mrs Vicky and ask her to unlock the special cupboard, so I can take a look at your things in your cloth bag.’
‘Wot yer wanna look at me fings for?’ she demanded, frowning, suspicious all of a sudden.
‘We want to try and find out how old you are. It’s possible something in the bag will tell us.’
Reaching inside the neck of her dress, Rose pulled out a piece of black ribbon on which hung the key. ‘Mrs Vicky put the key ’ere ’cos I cried for me fings wen she took ’em.’
‘Isn’t she a nice lady? Well, come along, little one, let’s go to the cupboard.’