Chapter 26

Edited by Old Rotorhead

The next morning the steward’s knock on the door woke them. He obviously knew something had happened the night before, but he said nothing as he brought hot water for them. In order for the ladies to make themselves presentable Jake had to recover their cases from the next cabin. To his surprise there was little sign of any damage, although the deck head did show a few holes where some of the shot had missed Henry. Both Gina and Jake’s main interest was coffee, but Hermione averred that she was starving after losing last night’s dinner.

They arrived in the saloon to find that Hugh Jampton and Minerva were already there. Jampton looked distinctly haggard, but Minerva whilst perhaps not full of energy, certainly looked happy and was clearly enamoured of her escort. The three joined them.

“Last night was a little ... unfortunate,” said Jake

“Last night was magnificent!” said Minerva, smiling and stroking a blushing Jampton’s arm. “But Crun, he had become a nuisance. Good riddance.”

“I see,” Jake nodded. “But why were you following us? Revenge? You must have known that the photographs were at the embassy.”

“Pshaw! Revenge yes, but ‘Ugh compensation,” she stroked his arm again. “ But Moriarty and du Sang-Frappe believed. They are going to stop messenger for London. Me? I knew you were cleverer than that.”

“It seems you are a lucky man, Hugh,” said Hermione, with a giggle. “The things we do for England.”

A still blushing Hugh Jampton looked up at the deckhead.

“You should ‘ave tried him yourself,” Minerva told her.

“I doubt he could put Jake to shame,” Hermione was not to be out done.

“Ah, then you very lucky girl,” said Minerva. “Come ‘Ugh, there are two hours to Christiania. We ‘ave things we can do”

They got up, said goodbye, and left.

“That really is above and beyond the call of duty,” said Hermione.

“Oh, I don’t know...” mused Jake. “Oww!” he exclaimed as Hermione stabbed his hand with her fork.

Gina started on her third cup of coffee whilst Hermione continued to munch her way through a plate full of food. Jake contemplated a second cup of coffee. And should he have a slice of buttered toast? It really wasn’t a morning for such big decisions.

Christiania was not a bad place to be stuck for a week, unless of course, you were in a hurry. Or at least anxious to get home. Certainly Jake and Hermione wanted to get back, Gina was still very quiet. The best passage Jake had been able to book was on a Swedish brigantine bound for Great Grimsby. A look at the map showed that it was a convenient destination, but the ship would take at least five days to get there. Perhaps one day, Jake mused, there would be steam powered ferries between every port. That would, of course, require sufficient passengers to make it pay. Which came first, he wondered, the ship or the people needing to travel? Had he been lucky with the Bristol to Dublin route?

They had said goodbye to Hugh Jampton and Minerva after a couple of days. The poor chap looked more haggard every time they saw him, whilst Minerva seemed more serene. Jake had given him a letter of thanks for the ambassador, wondering if he would make it back to Copenhagen. It was not his worry he decided. But he did wonder about the security implications. Minerva had been a, presumably independent agent, and now she had her claws into a member of the embassy staff. Perhaps he’d better mention it when he got back to London.

Mary took one look at Bea lying on the ground, leapt onto Goldie, who was just standing idly by as if nothing had happened, and left the yard as fast as the horse would go.

The groom stood transfixed.

The maid was wailing, although whether because of the accident, because she was hurt, or because the pans were now spread all over the yard, wasn’t clear.

It was moments before Brightman appeared in his shirtsleeves, with cook close behind him. He rushed over to where Bea was lying.

“What happened?” he addressed the groom.

“She was riding round the yard when Aggie dropped the pans. Goldie started and Lady Beatrice fell off.” the groom replied.

“Where is the horse?” asked Brightman. “And Mary?”

“She rode off, Mr Brightman.”

“Mrs Milligan,” Brightman addressed the cook, “will you shut that girl up?” he turned to the groom “Can you pick her up?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. It’s such a shame. She was so beautiful.”

“Still is, she’s still breathing,” snapped Brightman. “Take care and follow me. We’ll take her up to her room. Someone inform Her Grace.”

Someone obviously had told the duchess, because by the time the groom had laid Bea on her bed she had joined them, with breathless enquiries as to what had happened.

Bea lay on the bed very pale and very still. Her breathing could just be detected by the movement of her bosom. Her hair had come undone, and was spread over the pillow, hiding the wound to her scalp. The three of them had been joined by Amanda, Bea’s maid, and formed a silent tableau about the bed. Their frozen state was thawed by the arrival of Mrs Waterford and Mary.

“Right,” said Mrs Waterford. Let’s have a look at her.”

She turned to Amanda. “Can you get me some hot water and towels? We’ll get her cleaned up and then we can see what the problem is.”

Brightman shepherded the groom out to go about his business, leaving the Duchess, with tears on her cheeks, to watch.

It took a little while for Mrs Waterford to clean the wound.

“It looks far worse than it is,” she told the Duchess. “Cuts to the scalp always bleed a lot. The bone seems undamaged, but how long she will be unconscious ... well, who knows? I’ll put some honey and herbs on it, and a bandage to hold it in place, and we’ll just have to hope.”

“Do you think she’ll be all right?” asked the Duchess.

“We can only hope,” Mrs Waterford replied. “I’ll look in later, your Grace. Come along Mary.”

“No!” said the Duchess. “She can stay with me.”

“‘Twasn’t her fault,” said Mrs Waterford, concerned that Mary was going to be blamed for the accident.

“No, I know. But she can keep me company, and tell me what happened,” said the Duchess.

“You behave yourself, Mary. And don’t cause no trouble,” Mrs Waterford admonished her granddaughter.

The Duchess gradually teased an explanation from Mary.

“It was partly my fault,” said Mary at last. “If I hadn’t said it would be easier for her to get about with her stuff if she could ride ... and then I said I’d teach her.”

“You may have put the idea in her head, Mary. But I can assure you that Beatrice has a mind of her own, and it was her choice. It was unfortunate that that silly girl had to startle the horse. Goldie is normally so placid too.”

“But she’s not ridden much,” said Mary. “I should have thought.”

The brigantine ‘Ælfthryth’ had called in to Christiania to pick up a deck cargo of timber. When she was loaded Jake, Hermione and Gina went aboard, and the ship left for Grimsby. As they sailed out of the shelter of the Skagerrack the weather deteriorated, with a strengthening nor’wester that Jake thought would develop into a full gale. The ship proceeded under reefed topsails, jibs and spanker, progress being pedestrian at best. After three days the reefs were shaken out, but even as the wind moderated no more sail was set. This was not the sort of greyhound that Jake was used to, and it took a full six days to make the crossing.

Arriving in the early morning a tug picked up the tow, and fussed ‘Ælfthryth’ into a berth. Jake was delighted to find that Great Grimsby had a terminus of the Great Northern Railway, and that a train would be able to take them south, stopping at Old Leake station, where they could hire a trap to take them to Wraxall Old Hall. Their baggage would have to be collected from Old Leake later.

Their arrival at Wraxall was obviously a surprise. Although their greeting from Brightman was as welcoming as ever, they soon sensed the gloomy atmosphere. Jake and Hermione were shown to their usual rooms, and Gina to another room. On the way Brightman explained about the accident and that Bea had been unconscious ever since.

“It’s been two and a half days now,” he told them. “Her Grace has been with her constantly, but how much longer she can stay like that ... it’s very sad, such a delightful girl, so full of life,” he sighed. “I’ll make arrangements for your baggage to be collected. When you’ve freshened up, if you go to the drawing room, and I’ll tell Her Grace that you are here.”

A few minutes after they arrived in the drawing room Aunt Edith joined them from her vigil over her niece.

She explained what had happened. “She seems very restless at times, I don’t know what to think, but I fear if she doesn’t wake soon we shall lose her. After all she has been through that would be a terrible tragedy. I haven’t slept at all since it happened.”

Hermione gave her mother a long hug. “We can help now that we are here,” she told her.

Hermione accompanied her mother back to Bea’s room. She looked at Bea lying quite still, her pale skin looking almost transparent, her chest gently moving. She might just have been asleep.

Hermione and her mother sat and talked in low voices, Hermione telling her mother all about the trip to St Petersburg. Or at least as much as was fit for a mother’s ears. Her mother, however, was sharper than Hermione gave her credit for, and insisted on having all details that had been omitted.

“You shot the man? You seem to be making a habit of that! What happened then?” she asked.

“We heaved him over the side. And Jake threw his hat after him. I’d really taken a fancy to that hat too,” Hermione told her.

“Good heavens! Whatever next?”

Bea was now exhibiting signs of distress, and Hermione went over to try and comfort her, but with no apparent success. Staying by the bed, Hermione went on with the rest of the story.

“So the man from the embassy ended up looking after the foreign woman?” was another question.

“I suppose you’d call it looking after,” replied Hermione, “But he looked more and more frazzled every time we saw him.”

“Why would that be?” her mother wondered.

“I really don’t think that is something I should be explaining to you, Mama.”

“Oh!” and then realisation dawned on her mother’s face. “Ohhh! Really Hermione, you shouldn’t know about such things! I was expecting to have to give you ‘the talk’ on the eve of your wedding, but it would appear you already have some knowledge of these matters.”

“I didn’t have a mother until recently. So I had to find out for myself.”

“Oh! And Jake...”

“Is the complete gentleman. He refuses to do anything before we are married,” Hermione sighed. “Well, anything that would cause problems,” she finished.

“I’m very glad to hear it,” said her mother.

Jake chose this moment to come into the room.

“The baggage has arrived,” he said.

“I thought we brought her with us,” Hermione replied. “Oh!”

The last exclamation was because Bea appeared somewhat calmer.”

“Are you all right?” Jake asked.

Bea’s agitation ceased, and in a whisper she said ‘Jake’, and her eyes opened.

Jake strode to the bed. Bea’s hand reached out to him, and he slipped his arm under her and held her to him.

“Oh Jake,” she whispered. “You’ve come for me.”

There was a commotion downstairs and then hurried steps coming up. Moments later Lord Kingswood entered the room, followed by Victoria.

“Edith, my dear, I came as soon as I got your telegram. I’m sorry I wasn’t in my office, so it took a while to find me.”

“Peter!” said the Duchess, “you are just in time! She has just awakened and spoken to Jake.”

“Thank God for that,” he replied. “We have been so worried.”

“I think she’s asleep at the moment,” said Jake.

“No,” came a tiny voice. “I am awake. Hello, Papa. Is Victoria with you?”

“Yes, I’m here,” Victoria replied, standing at the side of the bed.

Bea struggled to sit up. “Ooh, my head hurts.”

“You were riding around the yard and fell off,” said Edith.

Bea paused for a moment. “Yes. Yes, I remember. There was a loud noise and then nothing. Mary was teaching me to ride. May I have a drink please?”

Victoria reached onto the night stand for the glass of water that was there and held it for her.

“Thank you. Where is Mary? It wasn’t her fault.”

“No,” said Edith, “No one is blaming her.”

“Good.”

And with that Bea fell asleep. It was obviously sleep, her breathing was light and even, and she seemed relaxed. But she was still holding Jake’s hand.

It was decided that Jake should stay with Bea whilst everyone else went and got themselves changed, or whatever they had to do.

A little while later Amanda came in to tidy up.

“How is she, sir?”

“Asleep at the moment,” Jake told her.

“No, I’m not,” Bea opened her eyes and smiled. “And I’m feeling better. Thank you Amanda.”

The next visitor was Mrs Waterford.

“I heard she was awake, sir,” she said.

“Yes,” replied Jake. “She says she feels better.”

“That’ll be the extract of the willow bark I put in her water,” said Mrs Waterford. “Now, let’s have a look at that head of yours,” she said to Bea.

Jake helped her into a sitting position, and Mrs Waterford examined the wound.

“Healing nicely dear. Now you rest, I’ll leave you some more of the willow bark and I’m sure you’ll be up and about in a day or two. Rest and have something to eat, there’s nothing of you. That was a terrible shock Mary had, I expect she’d like to see you. And leave this young man alone, he’s spoke for,” Mrs Waterford laughed.

Bea smiled. “I know, and I’ve my eye on another. But Jake rescued me. He’s my hero.”

“I’m glad to hear it m’lady,” said Mrs Waterford although she did not specify what she was glad to hear.

“Jake, you need to go and get changed for dinner,” said Bea. “Amanda will stay with me. I want to talk to Victoria later. Alone.”

Jake looked at Amanda.

“I’ll take care of her, sir.”

Time, Jake thought, for a quick bath. Obviously there had been no opportunity since they had left the hotel in Christiania, and Jake was keen to scrub off the grime of the journey. Having stripped he donned a towelling robe and entered the bathroom to find ... Hermione was already in the bath.

“Well if it isn’t the hero of the hour!”

“What do you mean? Do you mind if I join you in there?”

“You turn up and rescue yet another damsel in distress, and everyone fawns over you. Mind where you’re putting your feet.”

“It sounds as though you’re jealous. Aah, that’s nice. Aren’t you glad your cousin is better?”

“Of course I am! Ooh, what are you doing with your toes? That’s definitely not the right place for a toe.”

“And?”

“Yes, I’m jealous. It’s me you’re supposed to rescue. And you’ve paid me absolutely no attention since we left St Petersburg. Mmmm...”

“That’s not entirely true. And anyway, it wasn’t a holiday.”

“You said it was. I distinctly remember. If you don’t stop that we’ll be late for dinner ... I didn’t say you had to stop.”

“But we’ll be in Brightman’s bad books if we are late.”

“As if you could be in anyone’s bad books.”

“Not even yours?”

“We’ll see ... later.”

After the ladies had withdrawn, Jake and Lord Kingswood were left with a decanter of port. Neither smoked, a habit that both were unusual in disliking.

“A number of things have happened since you have been away Jake. But first, when Victoria and I marry,, you and I will be related, I think it would be in order for you to call me Peter.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Jake, “I shall be honoured.”

“I am also indebted to you once again for returning my daughter to me.”

“I can hardly take credit for that,” said Jake. “I have thought about it, and it could be she was reliving her captivity in her mind, and my arrival was pure luck.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Peter replied. “The major thing that I have to tell you is that Lord Portmahon tried to smuggle four little girls from Dublin into Bristol aboard ‘Moonfleet’. Mary was with Fitz, and was instrumental in preventing Portmahon from recovering the girls. When they returned to Dublin, he kidnapped Mary and murdered her. Fitz killed him. I don’t know many details, so you’ll have to ask Fitz. I believe ‘Moonfleet’s’ mate was with him.

“Tom,” said Jake. “A good man. I’m sorry to hear that. I liked Mary, and I know Fitz was besotted with her.”

Peter nodded in agreement.

Jake was silent a moment.

“What happened to the girls?”

“Your Aunt Lydia has adopted them. They are living with her.”

“I hope that doesn’t cause any problems with my children,” said Jake thoughtfully.

“Victoria assures me that they get along very well. Which brings me to one other thing. When Victoria and I marry her debts will become my responsibility. My position with the bank could cause conflicts of interest. At present you are responsible via Underwoods. Are you happy for that to continue?”

“Yes,” said Jake, without hestitation. “She is good at it and Underwoods accounts department oversee the business and report to me. As you know, there are no debts as such, the business is profitable. So I see no problem.”

“Excellent! Now, tell me about your adventures.”

Jake and Hermione, with occasional comment from Gina, had told the highlights of the tale over dinner. Now, Jake filled in the parts with could not have been aired in polite company.

“It seems my niece is not a woman to be trifled with,” Peter commented.

“The thought had occurred to me,” Jake grinned. “And she is still miffed about that hat.”

“Do you have the photographs?”

“Yes, I persuaded Gina to part with them. I shall have to apologise to the Foreign Office for a parcel of blank sheets of paper I sent them,” said Jake.

Peter laughed. “I expect they’ll forgive you when they get the real thing,” he said. “Shall we join the ladies?”

After dinner Victoria excused herself and went up to see Bea. When she arrived Amanda gathered up the tray from Bea’s supper and went to see what cook had saved for her. Victoria went to sit next to the bed.

Bea reached out and held her hand.

“You’ve had a bad time,” Victoria squeezed Bea’s hand.

Bea nodded, and flinched as the wound on her head rubbed against the pillow.

“I was back in that cave in Ireland, and it was just awful. That terrible priest was there.”

Bea fell silent again. Victoria realised instinctively that Bea needed to get the story out. That if she did that she would then be better off. She had wondered whether there would be some sort of reckoning in the future when she had first had Bea asking questions about things she had not understood during her captivity. Of course, she knew nothing of what went on in people’s minds. Who did? But she herself had had to come to terms with her sister’s death. Getting that out talking to Sarah had helped, and she knew that Sarah had gone on to tackle Jake and bring him out of his funk. And for that she was very grateful.

“What was he doing?” she asked Bea.

“He was waving his thing...” Bea gathered her strength, “his cock. He was waving it at me and telling me this time he was going to put it in me. Fuck me, he said. I told you I knew the words. And he said my belly would swell, and I’d have his baby. I lay there and swelled up like a balloon, then my belly popped and this thing came out with horns and a tail, and he stood laughing maniacally, and screaming about the spawn of the devil, and how I’d be roasting in hell. And then there were more men, and they were all waving their ... their cocks at me. And they were huge, and they started to rape me, and the priest was screaming it was his turn again, and it went on and on.”

Tears were streaming down Bea’s cheeks.

“And there were women, like the ones who come to have their photographs taken, and they were standing round screaming slut and whore, and saying no decent man would want me now, and how much it looked as though I was enjoying it. I wasn’t, Victoria, I wasn’t! It hurt, the pain was terrible, and they were all laughing. I kept trying to see who they were but their faces were distorted, and the more I looked, the uglier they became. There were more men and their cocks got bigger and I thought they’d rip me apart, the priest kept saying to turn me over, he’d have it the other way, and I didn’t know what that was but it sounded awful. And then suddenly, they all started to melt away. I mean dissolve into something horrid, and they were screaming. Then I heard Jake’s voice and I knew he had come to rescue me. And I had to reach out to him, to make sure he knew I was there, and I was still alive. It was a terrible struggle, reaching out, straining to touch, and then I opened my eyes and he was there. You cannot believe how wonderful that was.”

Bea lapsed into sobbing.

Victoria leant in and hugged her. After a moment Bea looked up at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I had to tell someone. I don’t know what it all means, but I feel strangely better. You don’t think badly of me, imagining all that, do you?”

“It’s much better for you to get all that out,” Victoria told her. “And I couldn’t think badly of you.”

She bent down and kissed Bea’s waiting lips.

“Now, I think you should rest. Do you want someone to sit with you?”

“Could you stay with me tonight? I think I need hugging.”

Victoria smiled at her. “Of course I will. But I must go and change, and I want to see your father too. No, I shan’t tell him,” she said, as Bea opened her mouth to speak, “he doesn’t need to know the details, only that you are better. I’ll be back later.”

Victoria’s thoughts on what Bea had described to her were very mixed. A certain amount of shock at hearing such things, but more horror, she was appalled that the girl had such dreadful things in her mind, the sheer depravity of what she had related. Had she herself contributed to the problem by explaining things to her? She didn’t feel that that was the case, but it was difficult, no impossible, to tell.

Brightman had put Jake and Hermione in their usual rooms with the shared bathroom. Peter and Victoria, however, being senior members of the family, had their own private bathrooms. So there was no discreet communication between their rooms. Victoria, having changed into her night attire, had to use the main corridor in order to visit Peter. Victoria’s night attire might have left many people, particularly those who subscribe to the notion that one should ensure that every part of you was well covered before retiring to bed, wondering why she bothered at all. But since she was wearing a lacy gown as well, though, there was nothing to be seen that shouldn’t be seen. Nevertheless, when Peter admitted her to his room, he was somewhat taken aback.