The Ravenscar Dynasty (22 page)

As he blinked in the dim light and slowly awakened, Edward was momentarily disoriented. Blinking again, and endeavouring to push himself up in the bed, he realized that every bone in his body ached.

Looking around the room, so white, pristine, sparsely furnished, he understood at once that he was in a hospital. Sinking back against the pillows, he tried to focus his mind and as he did so he began to remember the events of the night before. Leaving Lily's later than he had intended, walking up from Belsize Park Gardens, looking for a hansom cab. The stranger stopping him, asking for directions, and then the unexpected attack from behind.

Lifting his arm, he gingerly touched his head, felt the bandages, then slowly let his fingers roam over his face. He knew it must be bruised, even a little bit battered, because it was sore, and hurt when he touched it. His shoulders and back ached; now he remembered those heavy blows, the way he had gone down onto his knees so quickly, had lurched forward as additional blows had landed on his head.

Who had attacked him last night? Thieves, wanting
to rob him? Or had the attack been arranged by the opposition at Deravenels? He had no idea. Neither did he know who had found him, or how he had been brought to this hospital.

After a few moments, Edward managed to sit up; throwing back the bedclothes he swung his long legs to the floor. For a moment he thought he could not stand but eventually he did, instantly realizing he felt weak and slightly dizzy. He sat down heavily on the bed, wondering how to summon a nurse. He needed to ask questions, needed to know more.

Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he flopped back against the pillows, but he did not have enough strength to lift his legs back onto the bed. He was not quite certain how long he lay sprawled like this, half in and half out of the bed. Perhaps twenty minutes or more. All of a sudden he felt a waft of cool air as the door opened, and he was filled with relief. The nurse at last.

‘Good heavens, Mr Deravenel! What on earth are you doing?' a very masculine voice exclaimed, and a split second later the owner of the voice was bending over him, looking concerned.

‘Are you all right?' the man asked in a kindly tone.

‘Yes. Just felt a trifle dizzy…when I tried to get out of bed.'

‘I'm not surprised. Come along, let me lift your legs into the bed for you.' As he spoke the man proceeded to get him settled properly. Once this was accomplished, he explained, ‘I'm Michael Robertson, by the way. Your doctor, Mr Deravenel.'

‘So I've gathered,' Edward answered, attempting to smile. He guessed the doctor was about forty or thereabouts,
dark haired, pleasant-looking and wearing a white coat over his dark suit. A stethoscope dangled around his neck. He had an air of competence about him.

‘Am I badly hurt?' Edward asked at last, a brow lifting.

Noting the anxiousness echoing in his patient's voice, Dr Robertson was quick to reassure him. ‘I believe you are out of danger. You were brought in here unconscious last night. You had concussion. But you appear to be much better. How does your head feel? Any pain? Headache?'

‘No, not a headache, but my head does feel…well, sort of
top
heavy
. And my face is sore.'

‘Were you hit in the face, Mr Deravenel?'

‘No. But the blows to my back and shoulders were very hard, and I fell forward. My face grazed the pavement. I remember being hit on the head. I obviously passed out. However, I don't think I have any other injuries. Or do I?'

‘No, you don't. Not as far as we can tell.'

‘So I can go home today?'

‘I don't think so, Mr Deravenel. I need to keep you here for a few days. Under observation. Just to be on the safe side. I want to be absolutely certain we haven't missed anything.'

Edward was silent for a moment, and then he asked, ‘Has my mother been informed that I am here?'

‘She has indeed. She was here at the hospital, in fact, but I understand from Mr Watkins that your mother and Mrs Watkins have gone to your home to have food prepared for you. They will return with a hamper very shortly. In the meantime, your cousin is very anxious
to talk to you. Are you able to see him now? Or would you prefer to wait a little longer?'

‘No, no, I'm really perfectly all right. Dr Robertson. I would like to see him. And let me thank you for looking after me so well.'

The doctor nodded, and stepped closer to Edward. Bending over him, Michael Robertson put the stethoscope in his ears and listened to Edward's heartbeat. Then he shone a small flashlight in his eyes, and finally placed a cool hand on Edward's forehead. He appeared pleased, well satisfied. He nodded to himself, gave Edward a brief smile and hurried out.

‘What I don't understand is how I got here,' Edward murmured, giving Neville a close look, frowning slightly. ‘And how did
you
find out? Was my wallet still on me? My name and address are in it, you know. But thieves would have taken the wallet, surely?'

‘Indeed they did,' Neville replied swiftly, pulling the chair closer to the bed, and he lowered his voice when he added, ‘but thieves they weren't, I'm convinced of it. However, more about all that in a moment, Ned. Since you patronize an excellent Savile Row tailor a small piece of tape with your name on it is always stitched on the reverse side of the pocket which is on the inside of your jacket. That was how you were identified by the police, who brought you to the hospital. But actually there's another story…I mean about the way
I
was informed that you had been injured and were here.'

Staring up at Neville, his eyes startlingly blue in his
bruised face, Edward appeared puzzled. ‘Do tell me, I'm filled with curiosity.'

A faint rueful smile flitted across Neville's mouth. ‘With my permission, Finnister has had one of his operatives following you…keeping an eye on you. You were attacked by
two
heavily-built men last night. Finnister's man was outnumbered, and there was nothing he could do to help you…except run off looking for the police. Once he had ascertained you were still alive, of course.'

‘He saw the attack, did he?'

‘From a distance. He also noticed a stranger stop you, and later he saw the same man conferring with the two bruisers…before they all made a dash for it.' Neville shook his head. ‘Odd, don't you think, that
your
father and
mine
, and my brother, died from fatal blows to the head.'

Edward closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them they were stark. He pushed himself up on the pillows, staring into Neville's face. ‘Same modus operandi, is that what you're saying?' he muttered bleakly.

‘Yes. There is no doubt in my mind that you were attacked by men working for the Grant faction. They're obviously having you followed, just as Finnister was. It was a good thing he took that precaution because his man reported in to him quickly, and Finnister telephoned me as soon as he knew. I, in turn, informed your mother.'

Edward remained silent, turning everything over in his mind, and at last he said softly, ‘I know you're going to suggest that I have a proper bodyguard,
several
men, presumably, to look after me, and you will not receive
any argument from me, Cousin. Will can now go on your staff, until he works with me at Deravenels, and you and Amos can seek out the other men.'

‘Thank you, Ned, for being so sensible. I know what a nuisance it's going to be, but unfortunately it is necessary. I cannot permit anything to happen to you.' Neville reached out, grasped his cousin's hand in his and held on to it tightly. ‘We are partners, we are in this together. I promise you I will be your rock.'

‘And I will be yours, Neville, there for
you
should
you
ever need me.' He laughed and then instantly grimaced. ‘When I move my face it hurts like hell. But I was going to say…
not that you will ever need me
.'

‘Ah, don't say that, do not tempt Providence…we never know when life is going to come and hit us in the face.
Catastrophe
is ever present, a spectre that usually lurks behind every corner. For someone.'

Edward felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine on hearing these words, but he remained silent. The hackles rose on the back of his neck.

Neville released his cousin's hand and sat straighter in the chair. ‘I have a good thought, Ned. It occurred to me earlier that my brother could come to London. Johnny and Will and you have often made a good threesome…you are old sparring partners.'

‘Indeed we are, and Johnny has always been so very special to me. All my life. But can you spare him?'

‘Yes, I think so. The managers of the northern offices have all been well trained. By us both. Anyway, my brother needs a change. It will do him good to be here in London…and I am sure we can find a place for him later. At Deravenels.'

‘Again, if you can spare him,' Edward responded, laughter sparkling in his bright blue eyes. Johnny Watkins was close to his heart.

‘We will have to retaliate, you know,' Neville announced.

Edward stared at the other man. ‘
How
?'

‘I don't know. Yet. Don't you worry about it. Something will come to me. In due time. There's no hurry.'

There was a sudden sharp knock on the door, and it opened swiftly, with a burst. And before Edward could catch his breath his mother and Nan, his brothers and sister were rushing into the room, followed by Will Hasling.

Neville jumped up, and went to his aunt, led her forward to the bed, while his wife, Nan, shushed the children, just as Margaret was doing. ‘George, do calm down,' Meg told her younger brother, hanging onto his hand. Richard, of course, was silent and worried. His genuine concern shadowed those blue-grey eyes. He could not bear that his adored Ned was hurt.

Cecily clutched her son's hand. ‘Ned, oh Ned, your
head
. Your poor bruised face. You took such a beating.' She shook her head, and she, who was usually so controlled, discovered her eyes were filling with tears.

‘Not too much damage done, Mother. The doctor says I'm perfectly fine. Please try not to worry. I'll be up and out of here very quickly,' Ned told her, and then looked over at Richard, beckoned for him to come forward. ‘I'm alive and well, Little Fish. I do promise you.'

For the first time that day Richard smiled, and ran to the bedside, took hold of Ned's other hand.
‘Mama told us you were set upon by thieves, Ned.'

‘Were you frightened?' George asked. He had wriggled free of Meg's grasp and was now standing next to Richard by the bed.

‘No, he wasn't! Of course he wasn't!' Richard exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder at his brother. ‘Ned is
never
afraid, are you, Ned?'

‘I didn't have time to be, as it so happens,' Ned responded, his voice full of affection for his younger siblings.

Meg joined her brothers, and gazing down at Ned, she asked, ‘Is there anything you need, other than the food Mama and Aunt Nan have brought?'

‘To come home to your loving care, Meg darling. But Dr Robertson has suggested I stay here. Overnight. Just to be sure that…my old noggin is in working condition.'

‘Is there some problem with your head injuries?' his mother asked, her voice rising, alarm flaring on her face.

‘No, Mother. It's just a precaution. You know very well how hospitals are.' Turning his head, his eyes met Will's, and he said, ‘Thanks for coming, old chap. And what's that you're carrying?'

‘A picnic, Ned. Swinton's put together quite a lavish spread, at least so I'm told. I asked the ward nurse if she could find a small table, so I can unpack it, and she was happy to oblige. Oh, here she is now.'

Later that afternoon, after they had had their merry picnic, everyone left except for Neville and Will Hasling.
They wanted to stay with Edward because there were important matters to discuss, and also because the police were coming to ask Edward a few questions. Neville felt they should be with him during the police interview.