Dangerous Decisions (23 page)

When on Monday morning the blue brocade curtains were drawn back, Helena shielded her eyes from the early sun. ‘Good morning, Jane, it looks a lovely day.'

‘Indeed it is, Madam.'

But as her maid brought over the bed-tray with its china pot of hot chocolate, Helena sensed that she was distracted and guessed that the subject of her thoughts was Oliver's valet. The romance that had begun fifteen months ago in Italy had never wavered, but although both were circumspect, Helena knew that her husband would never tolerate a married couple on his staff. Tempted to probe, she resisted, knowing that Jane would confide in her when she felt the need to. Instead, taking an appreciative sip of her sweet chocolate, Helena said, ‘I shall be sorry to see Miss Dorothy leave this afternoon. I've so enjoyed having her here.'

‘According to her maid, she will be loath to go.'

Later when Helena went down to the breakfast room she found that everyone else was already there. Oliver glanced up. ‘Good morning, my sweet. I can recommend the kidneys.'

‘You know I never eat them. Good morning everyone, I am sorry I'm a little late.' She went to the sideboard and after surveying the array of dishes, helped herself to crispy bacon, scrambled eggs and grilled tomatoes. Carrying them to the table, she said, ‘It's such a lovely morning, Dorothy. I thought that perhaps you and I could take Rosalind for her airing in the park this morning, instead of Nanny. You know she takes her rain or shine, at eleven o'clock precisely.'

Dorothy looked up with eagerness. ‘Yes of course. I've never actually pushed a perambulator.'

Helena laughed. ‘Oh, I don't think you need special training. In fact, I think I might decide to do so every day from now on. I would find it most enjoyable.'

Oliver was stunned. Of all eventualities that might interfere with his plan, he had not foreseen this one. Shock and desperation froze his mind and then inadvertently Beatrice came to his rescue.

‘Helena, my dear, the notion is most unsuitable. May I remind you that Mrs Shirley is calling this morning? As for your suggestion that you should wheel out Rosalind yourself on a regular basis, have you thought that you would be depriving Nanny? Here in London she is restricted in fresh air and exercise.'

Oliver held his breath, his gaze lowered to his plate.

‘Oh I'm sorry, Aunt Beatrice.' Helena was penitent. ‘I had forgotten about Mrs Shirley. And you are right of course about Nanny. Never mind, it was a nice idea but as you say, hardly practicable.'

Monday morning dawned for Cora with sickening reality. She opened her eyes to stare at the wardrobe that dominated one corner of the room. Secreted inside the crown of a hat and buried beneath layers of tissue paper, lay the hessian bag of guineas. Its presence seemed almost threatening although Ned had minimised the risks of the ‘enterprise', insisting that if she took the precautions he'd specified it was unlikely that anything would go wrong. But Cora wasn't so sure. And he wouldn't be the one going to prison.

But it was too late now to give in to doubts. Cora forced herself to eat buttered toast and to drink a small cup of tea, wishing she was a smoker. People did say that it calmed the nerves. She could only hope that the whole flaming business could be finished with this morning, otherwise she would have to face waking up yet again with this awful dread in the pit of her stomach. She washed up the dishes and, knowing that she could postpone things no longer, went to get ready. Half an hour later, the mirror told her that not even Johnnie would recognise her. In second-hand rimless spectacles and a mousy wig, she looked positively plain, while her dull-grey clothes and prim velour hat would attract no one's attention.

When she went to meet Sybil, Cora saw that she too had made a success of her disguise. The wig beneath her hat was pale ginger – pepper and salt, really, with its flecks of grey – but distinctive enough to throw suspicion in a different direction. Her clothes, like Cora's, were almost colourless, neither wearing what they had worn on previous visits to St James's Park. Luckily, they had both managed to find all of the items cheaply in the market, regarding them with reluctance as a necessary expense.

‘It's arrived then,' was Sybil's greeting.

Cora nodded. ‘You've got it all in yer head?'

‘Thought of nothing else all weekend.'

The two young women boarded a tram and sat in silence on the journey. Cora's stomach was twisted in knots and she guessed that her friend's was the same. But they couldn't risk talking, not even a whisper of what they planned to do. It was wisest to keep calm, quiet, like soldiers before a battle; Cora doubted that when they were preparing to charge they talked much either.

Their arrival at the park was an early one. Cora wanted to seize the chance to explore the perfect spot to hide in the bushes near the previously chosen entrance. And she needed to do so before the ‘nanny brigade' turned out. And so while Sybil paused to watch the squirrels, Cora slipped away, returning almost immediately to take Sybil's arm. ‘I found the ideal place. And it's where I can be straight out of the gates.'

‘You've got the shawl?'

Cora nodded.

‘I won't half be glad when it's all over.'

‘Let's hope we're lucky first time.' Cora glanced at her small fob watch. ‘It's ten to eleven so we'd better go out of the park and come in again.'

As they walked along the pavement, they saw one nanny enter the gates, and a few seconds later another who greeted her with a smile and they set off together chatting while they pushed their perambulators. Then a few minutes later, Cora nudged Sybil. It was exactly five minutes past eleven. ‘There she is, with a yellow rose in her lapel.'

The two young women followed through the park gates. In the vicinity there was only a man pushing a bath chair, and two elderly women with walking sticks. To Cora's relief the small group began to head in a different direction, leaving a broad empty path where the nanny would soon pass the vital entrance. The situation was perfect.

‘It's now, Syb. You begin to walk faster so you can just pass her. I'll nip into the bushes.'

Within seconds, Cora was out of sight, hidden by branches yet with a clear view of the crucial stretch of path. With feverish anxiety, she watched Sybil glance over her shoulder, quicken her step and begin to overtake the perambulator. Once safely past and several yards ahead, she faltered, then with a weak cry clutched at her head and slowly sank to the ground.

As the nanny hurriedly put the brake on the pram and rushed forward in alarm, Cora left her hiding place, her steps light and silent. The sleeping baby was lying beneath the sunshade and barely stirred when lifted out. Within seconds, Cora was out of sight in the bushes and moments later she was not only safely away from the park, but also as befit a mother weary from carrying a child, she was hailing a passing hansom cab.

Once Nanny had left, today wearing in her lapel a small yellow rose, Helena went into the morning room to watch her walk along the leafy road. It had irked her at breakfast to have her wishes so dismissed. Wealth comes with so many petty restrictions, she thought, and most of them make little sense. It would have been so enjoyable for Dorothy and herself to stroll and chat in the park with little Rosalind gazing up at them. But her aunt had made a valid point about depriving Nanny Evans of her daily dose of fresh air.

And as always when she stood in this casement window, Helena found her thoughts turning to Nicholas, of the morning when she had seen him walking along the pavement on his way to visit Aunt Beatrice. She remembered the somersault of her heart when he had glanced up and the later so-precious hour they had spent alone. Even now, she could never sit in that same chair without remembering how he had sat opposite, the warmth of his eyes and the tenderness of his smile. She wondered where he was now. Was he listening with patience to the sick, prescribing remedies, reassuring their loved ones? Was he studying articles, endeavouring to learn more about medicine? He could even be bringing a new life into the world. Yet her own time was going to be spent in entertaining the softly spoken Mrs Shirley. Helena could understand so well Dorothy's frustration with what she saw as her shallow life of social niceties. But that would change once she and Peregrine were married. And at least I have Rosalind, Helena thought, and turning, smiled at her friend as she came to join her at the window.

‘This is such a lovely part of London,' Dorothy said. ‘What a stark and empty world it would be without the beauty of trees.'

‘I know. I do love the city, but once the wedding is over I shall be glad to return to Graylings. Blaze is due to foal, you know, and I'd hate to miss those early days.'

They turned to go and sit on the large and comfy sofa, Helena idly picking up a copy of Vogue. Dorothy frowned. ‘You really enjoy reading that?'

Helena smiled at her. ‘Now Dorothy, you are not uninterested in fashion. You were quite envious of my new hat …' she broke off at the clamorous jangle of the doorbell, pulled repeatedly with an urgency that brought both of the young women to their feet and to rush out of the room where they saw the butler open the door to a distraught Nanny Evans.

Gasping for breath, she stumbled into the hall. ‘Baby's been taken!' Her face red with perspiration, tears were pouring down her face. ‘In the park …' her chest was heaving, her breath coming in gasps, ‘a woman collapsed …' she stared at them wild-eyed … ‘I'm so sorry, so terribly sorry.'

Helena rushed to the door and screamed on seeing the empty perambulator at the bottom of the steps. In panic, she ran into the road to look in both directions while Jacob, still in his shirtsleeves, was already coming to join her.

As Beatrice hurried down the staircase, Dorothy said, ‘It's the baby! It seems she's been stolen.'

The door to Oliver's study was flung open, and he hurried out. ‘What on earth is going on …?'

While Dorothy told him, Jacob, now holding Helena's arm, was leading her into the house.

Oliver was glaring down at Nanny Evans and shaking her. ‘Tell us what happened, woman!'

Terrified, she could only sob even more.

Jacob said, ‘We must send for the police.'

Oliver turned away from the nanny. ‘I'll do it.' He instantly headed for his study.

‘Papa …' Helena said brokenly.

‘I'm going to the park.' He called over his shoulder, ‘Someone send the footmen to follow me.'

Frantic and now almost hysterical, Helena confronted the crying woman. ‘Nanny, you must pull yourself together. Now think clearly, tell us exactly …'

A parlourmaid came forward with a chair, saying to Beatrice, ‘Shall I fetch a drop of brandy, Madam?'

Beatrice, her face ashen, nodded.

A few seconds later, Nanny sipped at the brandy and dabbing at her eyes with a sodden hanky mumbled, ‘All I did was to put the brake on and go to try and help her.' In distress, she stared up at the circle of faces. ‘I was only a few yards away.'

‘Who, Nanny, who are you talking about?' Helena's voice was harsh.

‘This woman in the park. She fell to the ground you see, in front of me. She just lay there, I couldn't rouse her, and when I turned round …' her sobs became a wail. ‘The pram was empty. I didn't know what to do – I began to scream for help and ran back along the path towards some people.' Her voice sank to a whisper. ‘When I went back …' she gazed at them all in bewilderment, ‘the woman had vanished.'

Dorothy turned to Oliver who had some seconds before returned to the hall. ‘Surely it's obvious. She was an accomplice, a decoy.'

‘I think I was capable of working that out.' Oliver glared down at Nanny Evans. ‘And these people? Where are they, they could be witnesses.'

Helena bent to take her hands. ‘Yes, think Nanny.'

Slowly shaking her head, she said, ‘I don't know, I don't know. They said they hadn't seen anything.' She gazed up at Helena. ‘And they wouldn't have, Mrs Faraday, because there's a bend in the path.'

Beatrice demanded of Oliver, ‘What did the police say? Are they coming?'

‘I didn't telephone them.' At the gasps of disbelief, he held up a hand. ‘We need to be extremely careful. If we go to the police, the kidnappers might harm the child.'

At those terrible words, Helena gasped. ‘You don't mean … you can't mean …?'

‘I had to take that decision. We just can't afford to take the risk.' He turned to the butler who was struggling to maintain his composure. ‘Not a whisper of this must leave the house. No one is to leave and I want you to gather all of the staff in the servants' dining hall. I shall be down directly to address them.'

‘Mr Standish requested that the footmen should go to help him search, Sir.'

‘Then let me know as soon as they return.'

Helena was battling crushing horror, hot tears of fear and desperation coursing down her cheeks. Seeing her beginning to tremble, Dorothy put an arm around her and guided her into the morning room. ‘You need to come and sit down.'

Beatrice turned to where Nanny Evans was still slumped on the hall chair. ‘Go up to the nursery and send Betsy down to the Servants' Hall. Then I think you had better lie down. There is nothing more you can do here.' She went to her niece. ‘I wish I could say something that might help you, my love. I can't believe such a thing could happen – in broad daylight as well.'

Dorothy reached out and took her friend's cold hand into her own. Gently she began to rub it. ‘Helena, as Oliver has suggested, Rosalind may have been kidnapped for some sort of ransom. Or it could be that some poor woman who has lost her own baby is so crazed with grief that she has taken yours. It really is unlikely that Rosalind would have been harmed.'

Helena gazed at her, knowing that what she said made sense, but wave after wave of nausea was sweeping over her, despite the deep breaths she kept taking. This was a living nightmare. There was such evil in the world and her baby was out there at the mercy of strangers! She released her hand from Dorothy's and, going over to the window and opening it wide, leaned out as far as she could. ‘I can't see any sign of them, either Papa or the footmen.' She turned and began to hurry across the room. ‘I'm going out to search myself, I've got to. I can't just stay here and do nothing.'

Beatrice hurried to her. ‘No, Helena, let the men do it. You'd be better here just in case someone brings Rosalind back.'

With tears pouring down her face, Helena said, ‘But what if they don't. What if I never see her again?'

Beatrice held her close. ‘Now don't even think of such a thing. We must remain positive, strong. Otherwise
—
' she broke off as Oliver came into the room.

‘I think the staff will keep our confidence,' he told them. ‘They are certainly under no illusion of the consequences if even a hint escapes outside this house.'

Helena raised her head to look despairingly at him and he had to steel himself against the stark anguish in her brimming eyes. But a few minutes later, having declared his intention to join the others in searching St James's Park, Oliver was striding along the pavement, his spirits rising in triumph. It had all gone exactly to plan, and all he needed to do now was convince Jacob of the need for delay before contacting the police. A time span was essential if that bastard was to be spirited out of the country before any alarm was raised. If the Faraday name was dragged through the press then so be it. Most of the people who mattered – his own social circle – were already aware of the baby's deformity – and Oliver cared little about the great unwashed.