The Ravenscar Dynasty (18 page)

‘I'm so sorry I wasn't able to attend the lunch yesterday,' Will Hasling said, his gaze fixed on Edward, who was sitting opposite him in the hansom cab. ‘As I explained to you, I had to be in Leicestershire to meet with the family solicitors. About the legacy my aunt left me.'

‘So you said,' Edward replied, then added, ‘I hope it was a decent inheritance.'

Will laughed. ‘Very decent indeed, Ned. Really generous. I was her only nephew, and as I told you, she never married, so there were no children. I was her sole heir. Anyway, I couldn't get back to London until last night. How was the lunch with Neville and Oliveri?'

‘It went very well,' Edward responded. ‘I was very impressed with this man Amos Finnister. He's the private investigator Neville is using. I think he's going to prove invaluable to us. He's already dug up a lot of dirt, and, most importantly, he discovered that Henry Grant was incarcerated in two insane asylums. Finnister's convinced Grant is actually insane.'

‘Good God!' Will exclaimed, sitting up straighter, his amazement written across his startled face. ‘That
is
interesting news, and certainly it works in our favour.'

‘Yes, it does. Finnister has to make an attempt to get the medical records, because, as Oliveri pointed out, the board of Deravenels will only be convinced of his insanity by such records. They'll want proof in order to believe.'

‘If then,' Will muttered, ‘you know the place is riddled with his friends. They'll defend him any way they can, do whatever it takes to keep him in power.'

‘Maybe they won't be able to do that,' Edward answered, and in a low, rapid voice began to tell Will about the lunch, and everything that had been said. And ultimately agreed upon.

Once Ned had finished speaking, Will sat back against the seat, looking thoughtful for a few moments, and then he shook his head. ‘Certainly this Amos Finnister chap has handed you a number of lethal weapons…such as the possibility to blackmail, circulate bad propaganda, those kind of things, but stealing the records might not be quite so easy.'

‘Neville assured me that if anyone can do it, it's Finnister. Or rather, some of the men he employs. I get the impression they're professional thieves.'

‘Well I certainly trust Neville's judgement. By the way, have you told him I would like to work at Deravenels, once you've taken over?'

Edward began to laugh. ‘Another confident soul, I see, not even questioning the outcome. And yes, I have told him, and he was delighted. He even wondered aloud if you would consider working for him at the moment, until you could join me, and I said I would ask you.'

‘Neville wants me to work for him? Good God! But look here, Ned, what would I do?' Will Hasling's expression was one of total puzzlement.

‘Chiefly, you would be…my boon companion,' Edward explained. ‘Except you wouldn't be able to accompany me to work, to Deravenels. However, he does want you to be with me at all other times. He's got a bee in his bonnet about my safety, even though Amos Finnister assured him they wouldn't dare make a move against me,
physically
that is, at the moment. Finnister says that the fire in Carrara and those terrible deaths have brought attention to the Grants. There's a lot of gossip going around about the tragedy, and about the Grants, too. Look, Will, Neville feels I shouldn't be wandering around town alone, and he thinks you're the best person to be at my side.

‘But he doesn't have to employ me to do that, Ned! Surely he understands about our friendship.'

‘Of course he does. I suppose he wanted to put you on his payroll because he thinks you have to earn a living—'

‘That's no longer necessary, because of the money my aunt has left me. It's not a great fortune, Ned, but it's enough to keep me quite comfortably, and my father still gives me a small allowance.'

Edward nodded, and said swiftly, ‘I hope you're not offended by his offer of money.'

‘Don't be silly, and the answer by the way is
yes
. I will certainly be your boon companion—that's not work, it's total pleasure.'

Both young men laughed, and then Will's face changed, became solemn when he said in a serious voice, ‘Rest assured that I
will
protect you. With my life. And
always. Because like Neville, I believe the Grants will eventually try to get you in some way. And I don't want my best friend dead…I want him alive.'

Edward nodded, gave Will a somewhat wry smile. ‘And your friend wants to stay alive, I can assure
you
of
that
.' There was a moment's pause before Ned continued, ‘I'm certainly glad my mother decided to come to London, I've worried about them, especially the children. I'll be much happier having them at Charles Street with me. Even though it is perfectly safe at Ravenscar. It's well protected by its location, and the locals are devoted to us. Still, I have been concerned about them being there without me.'

‘That I understand, Ned, and you never know in life.' Will sighed. ‘You just never know what might happen.' He looked out of the window for a second, and then bringing his steady gaze back to Edward, he asked, ‘Do you think your mother was afraid there? Is that why she's coming back to town today? Do you think she considered herself vulnerable at Ravenscar?'

‘No, I don't, in all honesty. I know she's always felt safe there, but from what she said on the telephone, last night, she became lonely in Yorkshire without my father. Also, she had previously engaged John Pennington to tutor the boys, and Perdita Willis to act as Meg's governess for the next few months. For those reasons she wanted to return to London. Mind you, Will, she did say they have all missed me.'

‘She's done the right thing, coming back, and I feel better myself, having you all in
one
place,' Will confided, and then exclaimed, ‘Well, here we are, Ned, King's Cross station!'

A moment later the two men were alighting from the hansom cab. Swinton, the butler, was getting out of a second hansom just behind them, and he came to join Edward and Will.

‘I shall go and round up some porters, sir,' Swinton announced. ‘Mrs Deravenel told me there would be a quantity of luggage.'

Edward nodded. ‘Mr Hasling and I will go to the usual barrier and wait there, Swinton.'

‘Right-o, sir.'

Striding out, Edward and Will hurried through the railway station to the platform where the morning train from York would be pulling in within the space of the next few minutes or so.

It was a cold Sunday afternoon, and the two men were heavily bundled up in thick winter overcoats and woollen scarves. The two of them, tall, handsome and well dressed, stood out in the crowd, and it occurred to Will that Edward Deravenel would always stand out anywhere, because of his height and looks and that head of burnished red-gold hair. How to make him invisible? he asked himself. He had no answer. Yet he did know one thing, and it had troubled him for some time.

He was well aware that as soon as the battle between the cousins began in earnest, Ned would be a moving target. How strange to think of murder…they lived in a civilized country, in a civilized age…and yet he knew that dark powers were at work. Even Cecily Deravenel had said
that
to Edward.

Of all the Deravenels, Edward was the most vulnerable because he could grab the seat of power and take over the company, whereas his two brothers were far
too young, just little boys. He is the true threat to the Grants, Will thought, and on the back of his neck his hackles rose.

God help us all when it starts, Will thought, and his mind began to race as he wondered again how he would be able to keep Ned safe. There was no obvious way at this moment, except to surround him with a phalanx of bodyguards. Which Ned wouldn't tolerate. But Neville would, and Neville would pay.

Will's thoughts were interrupted by Edward, who leaned closer to him. ‘I went to Belsize Park last night, hoping to see Lily,' he confided. ‘The housekeeper told me she had gone to the country for the weekend. Is she with Vicky in Kent, Will?'

‘Yes, she is. They were planning to return tomorrow.'

‘I hope she's not angry with me, I didn't get a chance to see her last week, I was so preoccupied with Deravenels.'

‘Did you leave her a note yesterday?'

‘I did.'

‘Then she'll be fine, Ned.' Will looked at his friend, and told him in a lowered voice, ‘She really loves you.'

‘And I love her.'

‘It can't go anywhere, though. Now can it?'

‘Nowhere at all, Will. But I do want to continue seeing her, for the moment. She's a great comfort to me.'

‘We all need a little comfort at times,' Will agreed.

At this moment train whistles began to blow and the York train came chugging along, rumbling towards the barrier at Platform Five where the two men were standing.

Edward noticed Swinton, followed by the two porters with luggage wagons, heading down the platform, and within minutes, through the billowing clouds of steam and smoke, he spotted his mother. She was elegantly dressed in black, surrounded by his siblings. He saw her greet Swinton, and watched her as she indicated the suitcases and trunks being unloaded and placed on the platform.

A moment later, his two brothers became aware he was waiting and they raced along the platform like greyhounds. The two boys were flinging themselves at him, and at Will, and they were unexpectedly entangled in a mass of young arms and legs. And then there was Meg arriving, looking so beautiful and sedate, followed by his mother, who was smiling at him.

Edward knocked on the door of the parlour and waited, entered the room only when his mother called, ‘Come in, Edward.'

She was seated at her small, kidney-shaped desk in the bay window, and glanced up as he closed the door behind him.

‘Peace reigns at last!' she exclaimed, shaking her head, sighing. ‘I thought George would never stop chattering. And that Will would never leave.'

Walking towards her, Edward sat down in the chair facing the desk, and exclaimed, ‘Yes, George was unusually garrulous, and as for Will outstaying his welcome, that was all my fault, Mother. I did invite him to have tea with us, and it somehow got out of hand, just seemed
endless and rather rowdy, I'm afraid. I'm so sorry.' He studied her for a moment, then asked quietly, ‘Are you not feeling well?'

Cecily Deravenel gave him a long puzzled look, frowning. ‘I'm perfectly fine, Ned, thank you. And please don't misunderstand—I like Will. No, let me correct myself, I love him, and you know very well he's been like a member of this family for years. The only reason I became so impatient was because I needed to be alone with you, and you seemed so embroiled with the children and Will.'

He laughed. ‘Yes, my brothers were all over me like chickenpox.'

She smiled, her love for her eldest son written all over her face. Cecily leaned forward, fixed her soft blue-grey eyes, so like Richard's, on him intently. ‘The reason I came to London
today
, instead of in a few weeks' time, was to see you, Ned, and bring you this.' She patted a small package wrapped in silk, which was on the desk.

‘What is it?' he asked curiously, eyeing the odd-looking red bundle.

‘The famous missing notebook,' she replied a little triumphantly.

‘I can't believe it! I thought
that
was lost forever! However did you find it? Where was it?' His excitement was apparent, his blue eyes sparkling.

‘In the priest hole.'

‘
The priest hole
. There's a priest hole at Ravenscar?'

‘Yes, there is,' she answered, and proceeded to tell him what had happened the day before, and explained the history of the old hiding place. When she had
finished, she removed the red silk scarf, handed him the notebooks, and added, ‘There is a second book, Ned, full of jottings by your father. Most illuminating, I think, and it will be more useful to you than the actual notebook.'

As he took the two black leather books from her he seemed puzzled by this comment, and asked, ‘But why would that be? I mean, Oliveri said my father always had his nose in the
notebook
.'

‘Perhaps he did, but only your father understood what he was writing in it. I don't. It's full of numbers which seem quite meaningless. However, perhaps Oliveri will understand, or perhaps you yourself will. Your father spent a lot of time talking to you about Deravenels over the years.'

‘Yes he did, but he never spoke to me about
numbers
, Mother.' Ned opened the smaller notebook, and began to read, scanned several pages, and then shook his head. ‘I see what you mean, I'm baffled, too. There
are
sentences here and there, as you no doubt saw, but I don't have a clue as to their meaning. Oh, here's a line that makes some sense. He wrote this…“Necessary to talk to my compadre about two and eleven”.' Edward glanced up, gazed at Cecily and shrugged his shoulders. ‘What on earth can that mean?'