Lady Rothborne, Frederickand Cecil walked behind Dr Leyden into the bedroom. Looking hot andtired, Philadelphia sat up in bed carefully cradling her new baby in herarms. She was smiling and seemed oblivious to the new arrivals.
Lady Rothborne heaved a sighof relief when she saw the tiny baby with its small tuft of bright redhair. A boy. A Mansfield boy in fine health. Under normalcircumstances, she might have allowed herself to shed a tear but there wasstill work to be done. Only part of the story was written.
Cecil rushed to his wife’sside and gently kissed her on the lips, before kissing his new-born son.
Lady Rothborne turned herattention to Frederick. He was transfixed by the baby and all the colourhad drained from his face. ‘I think it’s time you left Blackfriars,’ shesaid quietly. ‘For good. No more impromptu visits. No moreannuities. You need to stand on your own two feet. Goodbye,Frederick.’ She determined right there and then, that the family would nolonger suffer this man.
Frederick opened his mouthas if to speak, but nothing came out. He staggered from the room,slamming the door behind him.
The baby screamed hisstartled response and Lady Rothborne smiled. Her next problem wasCaroline Ransom.
Mrs Cuff sat in the servants’ hall besideRisler’s vacant seat. All the other servants were seated and silent, justas she had demanded them to be. Mrs Cuff stared at her empty plate. She had requested no food when the under-butler had offered it. She feltsick and had no appetite. The mood amongst the servants was, after manymonths of despondency and sorrow following Edward Mercer’s death, positivelyeuphoric. Even the generally more glum staff were delighted at theprospect of a new baby arriving at Blackfriars. The older membersrecalled that the last birth had been with Lord Cecil himself, way back in1880. Before she had ordered silence, there had been excited talk ofparties, champagne and extra holiday days. She couldn’t stand it. The euphoria was based on a horrible, sordid lie. After what had happenedto Edward when she had told him the truth, Mrs Cuff had vowed to keep silent onthe matter and allow events to evolve and unfold without herinterference. But this morning, with all the hype and excitement ripplingand bubbling through the hierarchies of the house, she could take thedisgusting ruse no longer and had slipped unnoticed out of the house to theMercer household.
Mary’s oldersister, Caroline had answered the door with a grimace. ‘What?’
Mrs Cuff hadlooked uncertainly at the surly, unwelcoming face and turned to leave.
‘What do youwant?’ Caroline had called after her.
Mrs Cuff hadstopped and knew she just needed to say it. Come what may, she needed tounburden herself. She had moved closer to Caroline and lowered hervoice. ‘I know something about Mary. May I come in?’
Caroline hadshown Mrs Cuff into the tiny sitting-room and directed her to a chair.
‘Mary’s inScotland. What about it?’ Caroline had barked.
Mrs Cuff, formany reasons, had needed this to be over quickly. She had had no time ordesire to discuss the subject in detail. ‘Mary’s being held—I believeagainst her will—at Blackfriars. Any moment now she’s going to give birthand the baby will be kept by Lord and Lady Rothborne, who are unable to havechildren of their own.’
Caroline, asexpected, had been stunned into shocked silence.
Mrs Cuff wasbrought back to her present surroundings in the servants’ hall by the gentlethud of the door closing and heavy footsteps heading towards her. Shelooked up and saw the beaming face of Mr Risler.
The sound ofwood scraping stone resounded around the room as the servants pushed theirchairs back to stand for the entrance of the butler.
Mr Rislerindicated that they could sit. ‘I have some wonderful, delightful news!’he chirped. ‘It is my great pleasure to announce the safe arrival ofMaster George Richard Mansfield.’
Mrs Cuff smiled,unable to look anybody in the eyes and joined in with the chorus of clappingand cheering that erupted around the room.
‘On thisoccasion…’ Mr Risler began to say over the din, but nobody was listening. Talk had returned to parties and time off. Mr Risler bent down and spoketo Mrs Cuff. ‘I was going to say, on this occasion they would bepermitted to talk!’
Mrs Cuff offereda weak, pathetic smile.
‘Not excitedabout the news, Mrs Cuff?’ Mr Risler asked, raising a knowing eyebrow.
‘Of course,’ sheanswered flatly. Any moment now, the Mercer family—maybe even thepolice—would arrive and stop this awful charade.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mortonwas paralysed to the spot with fear. Every muscle was frozen. He didn’tdo well in fight or flight situations such as this. He focussed onJuliette’s puffy red eyes. She had been crying but didn’t lookhurt. He tried to think what she would do if the situation werereversed. Negotiate. Be nice to him. Buy time.
‘You finally turned up, Mr Farrier,’ MarkDrury laughed. ‘Your poor old bird here has been waiting ages forya.’ He lowered his head towards Juliette’s face. ‘He must havegone the wrong way back from that big library place in Falmer. Or, do youreckon he’s got another woman on the go somewhere?’’ Mark grinned. ‘Expect you’ll be glad when I’ve shot him.’ He laughed in a hollow,exaggerated way.
Juliette squirmed in her seat and tried tospeak, but all that came out was a muffled, nonsensical sound.
‘What is it you want?’ Morton asked,trying his hardest to stay calm. ‘Money?’
‘Naa,’ Mark answered. ‘Cup of teamaybe. But don’t worry, I’ll make it myself when I’ve finishedhere.’ He laughed again and drew a quantity of phlegm from his nose.
That was when Morton was able to placefrom where he knew him.
‘I ain’t come for nothing except to killyou. Don’t get much simpler than that, really, does it? It was abit of a surprise finding her here, so I’ll have to take her out aswell, but never mind.’
‘Please—I can get you money—lots of moneyfor you to just walk away,’ Morton pleaded, his eyes darting around the roomfor something—anything—with which to hit the assailant if it came to it. He was almost certain that negotiation would fail and he would need to takeaction to keep him and Juliette alive.
‘I told ya, I ain’t
