The Winter Rose (114 page)

"Who did?"

"Freddie Lytton."

Fiona gasped.

"Fee, there's more to it than you know. More to it than maybe even I know from the sound of this telegram."

"Tell me, Joe."

"I can't, luv. At least, not yet."

She pulled away from him, wounded. "Why?" she asked.

"Fiona, six years ago I asked you not to search for Sid. Not to get
involved with him. Not to bring him into our lives. Remember?"

Fiona nodded. She couldn't look at him now and he knew why. She felt
that her search for Sid had resulted in the shooting that had paralyzed
him.

"Look at me, Fee," he said, tilting her chin up.

She did and he saw the pain in her eyes. So much pain. For him. For
her brother. For everything that had happened to two men whom she loved
so dearly.

"I'm asking you again, Fee. I'm asking you not to get involved. Just for now. Wait for me, Fee. And trust me."

"But Joe..."

"Just for now. Give me a bit of time. That's all I'm asking. A few
weeks at most to put this right. I will put it right. I promise you
that. But you have to trust me. Do you, Fee? Do you trust me?"

He knew that there was no reason for her to trust him. Not on this.
He'd always made his views on Sid Malone perfectly clear. He wanted
nothing to do with him. And he didn't want her to have anything to do
with him either. Once those views had nearly cost him his marriage.
Nearly cost him his life. He knew what he was asking of her. He was
asking her to do the impossible. To not try to help the brother she
loved. To let him do it instead. He squeezed her hands again. "Fee,
you've got to give me an answer. Do you trust me?"

She looked at him, and he saw the answer in her eyes before she spoke it.

"Of course I do, Joe," she said. "With all my heart."

Nearly five weeks after Seamie's telegram arrived at 94 Grosvenor Square, Seamie himself arrived.

Fiona and Joe were sitting in the conservatory of their home, on a
bright Sunday morning in June, when he did. Fiona had her feet tucked up
under her and a pot of tea on a table beside her. She knew she should
be doing something productive--reading sales reports, reviewing
advertisements, going through applications to her charitable fund--but
she couldn't manage anything more demanding than the morning papers. She
was still feeling tired. She had given birth to their fourth child--a
girl--two weeks ago. She and Joe had named her Rose, after Joe's mother.

Rose was a lovely baby, healthy and strong, and both Fiona and Joe
were deliriously happy about the newest addition to their family. The
birth and subsequent recovery had taken all Fiona's energies, and had
taken her mind off the recent events in Africa. But now, a fortnight
after Rose's birth, with the papers in front of her, and their continued
reports on the gruesome death of Freddie Lytton, they were fresh in her
mind again.

Horrifying details about Lytton's death--and his life--had come to
light. Fiona had learned not only that he'd probably killed Gemma Dean,
but that he was implicated in the deaths of other people, too--a young
groom named Hugh Mullins. And his wife's cousin, Aloysius Selwyn Jones.
And it was his wife who had implicated him.

India Lytton had found evidence of his wrongdoing in the form of
jewelry hidden inside a music box, the papers said. She had tried to
bring the jewelry to the Nairobi police, but had been found out by her
husband before she could. He'd abducted her and their daughter, and had
tried to kill them.

They would have died in a game pit had it not been for Sid Malone.
Malone, a London gang leader once accused of murdering Miss Dean, had
faked his own death in London and escaped to Africa, where he'd found
work on a coffee plantation. While visiting Kenya Province, Lytton had
recognized him and had him arrested. But Malone had escaped from the
Nairobi jail, pursued the Lyttons--for what reason, no one seemed to
know--and saved the lives of Mrs. Lytton and her daughter. After he'd
brought them to safety, he'd vanished.

There were so many unanswered questions. No one knew why Freddie
Lytton might have killed Gemma Dean. No one knew why Sid Malone had
saved Mrs. Lytton. And no answers were likely to be forthcoming to the
reading public either, as Mrs. Lytton had rebuffed all reporters, and
Malone's former employer, Mrs. Margaret Carr, had actually shot at them
from the porch of her bungalow. It was a mystery, much of it, and would
remain so.

But Fiona didn't like mysteries. She wanted answers. To many things.
But most of all she wanted to know where her brother was. If he was in
trouble. If he needed her help. And if he was ever coming home to them.

Fiona suspected that Joe knew some of the answers. But for some
reason he wouldn't, or couldn't, tell her. Not yet. She wanted to talk
to him about it. To pepper him with questions. But she didn't. He had
asked her to trust him. And she'd told him that she would. Now she had
to be patient. It was the hardest thing for her--patience. It was nearly
impossible. She knew how to think, to do, to fight. She didn't know how
to sit still and wait.

As she was pouring herself another cup of tea, and asking Joe if he
wanted one, the doorbell rang. They both heard it echoing through the
house.

"Who can that be? On a Sunday?" Fiona asked.

Joe looked toward the doorway, a tense, expectant look on his face.

"I think I know," he said quietly. "I think we're about to have some company."

"Yes, I gathered as much, Joe. Did you know people were coming? Why
didn't you tell me? Here I am in a raggedy old tea gown," she said,
getting to her feet.

"You look fine, luv. As beautiful as ever. Sit down, will you?"

"Sit down? But I need to change."

"Sit, Fee. You should sit."

She did, but unwillingly. "Could you at least tell me who it is?" she said, wondering at Joe's odd behavior.

"Seamie."

"Seamie! He's back? That's wonderful! But he's not company, luv, he's family."

"He has some company with him, I think. I hope."

"Joe, you're behaving very oddly. Will you please tell me what's going on?"

"Remember Seamie's telegram?"

"Yes, I do. I've been thinking of little else for the past few weeks. Though I know I'm not supposed to."

"After we received it, I sent Seamie a telegram of my own. I asked
him to come directly home after his ship docked. And to bring the
Lyttons with him."

"The Lyttons?" Fiona said, puzzled. "Why? Surely India Lytton has
better things to do after a long sea voyage than visit people she barely
knows."

"I can't tell you that. She has to."

"It's something to do with Charlie, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Fiona's blood froze. "Joe, what is it?"

"Fiona, I asked you to trust me. Now trust me."

The visitors were ushered in. Fiona hugged her brother tightly and
made much of him. Katie and Charlie ran in from the garden, where they'd
been playing, squealing with delight at the sight of their uncle,
bombarding him with questions about Africa and what he'd brought them.

Fiona shushed them, and then greeted a tiredlooking India Lytton and her daughter.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Lady India," she said. "And to
meet your daughter. I only wish the circumstances were different."

"You're very kind to have us, Mrs. Bristow," India said.

Fiona could hear the strain in the woman's voice, see the deep
fatigue in her face. Charlotte, a beautiful little girl, quiet and shy,
looked tired, too. Why on earth are they here? she wondered.

Katie and Charlie were so interested in the new child in their midst
that they stopped badgering their uncle for gifts and asked Charlotte if
she'd like to play with them in the garden.

"We're playing pirates," Katie said. "Want to be our prisoner?"

Charlotte's eyes widened. Fiona winced. Only a few weeks ago she had
been a prisoner. For real. In a game pit. Why, oh why, couldn't her
children play something sensible and normal--like house?

"Oh, don't worry," Katie said. "We won't make you walk the plank or
anything. We just need someone to ransom for a chest of gold doubloons."

Charlotte thought about this. She nodded.

"Good!" Katie said. "Come on, Charlotte, this way!" She grabbed
Charlotte's hand and pulled her after her as she raced out of the
conservatory into the garden. Charlie followed them.

"I'm sorry," Fiona said. "It was an unfortunate choice of words."

"Please don't worry about it," India Lytton said. "It's just what she needs now. Other children. Games. A bit of fun."

India watched her daughter through the conservatory windows. A smile
came to her weary face as Charlotte ran and shouted with her new
friends. Fiona couldn't imagine what the two of them had been through.

"It's such a beautiful day," she said. "Let's all go into the garden. Get a bit of air."

Anna, the nurse, was already out there. She was sitting on a blanket
in the shade of a lilac tree, holding baby Rose. Little Peter was
sitting next to her, playing with toy soldiers. India immediately went
over to admire the new baby. She asked Fiona how her labor had gone,
nodding as Fiona told her the details, then she gave Rose her finger and
smiled approvingly at the baby's strong grip.

"Will you go back to medicine, Lady India?" Fiona asked, watching her.

"I don't know, Mrs. Bristow."

"It's Fiona, please."

India smiled. "Fiona, then," she said. "And you must call me India. I
miss medicine terribly. But I haven't been able to think that far
ahead.

There was the inquest in Nairobi, you see. So many questions from the
police there. And the reporters. There were swarms of them. They never
left us alone."

"I'm sorry. It must have been so awful for you."

"There's more ahead of me, I'm afraid. My parents are dead, but I
have to see my sister. She's been terribly worried. And there is
Freddie's family. I've brought his remains home. They'll be interred at
Longmarsh. And then there are questions to be answered here. From the
police, from lawyers. There's Freddie's will to deal with. And estate
agents, too. I want to sell our Berkeley Square house and everything in
it. And an estate in Wales, too. I don't even know where to begin."

"I'll send my solicitor over to you tomorrow. And my estate agent.
They're both wonderful. They'll help you," Fiona said. She liked India
Lytton tremendously. She had liked her the first time she met her, years
ago at a Labour rally, and she would have done anything to help her.

"Thank you very much, Fiona. I do appreciate it. I'm afraid it's all become rather too much..." Her voice trailed off.

"I understand. Sit down, won't you? You must be so weary after your journey. Come and have a cup of good strong tea."

Fiona seated her guests around a white cast-iron table shaded by
lilac trees. Linen and plates were soon brought, followed by a fresh pot
of tea and a pitcher of lemon squash. Sandwiches appeared next, along
with a heaping bowl of red strawberries, currant scones, cream and jam,
and then cakes.

The children were called to the table when the food was brought, so
the adults kept the conversation light. Fiona, Joe, India, and Seamie
talked mainly about their voyage home, what they'd seen en route, and
the weather. When Katie, Charlie, and Charlotte had eaten a few
sandwiches and a cake or two, they asked if they might be excused, eager
to get back to their game.

Fiona looked at them as they fiew off and smiled. "They get on so
well together," she said. "They've only just met, but it looks as though
they've known one another forever." She wondered, as she said these
words, exactly when the conversation would turn more serious. Seamie had
much to tell them, she was certain. And Joe had undoubtedly brought
India Lytton here for a reason. She wondered how long she would have to
wait to find out what that reason was.

Not long at all, as it turned out, for as soon as the children were out of earshot India turned to her.

"Fiona..." she said.

"Yes?"

"I need to tell you something. It may come as a bit of a shock to
you. I'm sorry for that, but you should know that Charlotte is your
niece."

Fiona stared at her, not comprehending. "How can that be?" she finally asked.

"She is Sid's daughter. His and mine. Sid and I were lovers years
ago. We had hoped to be together, but things didn't exactly work out as
we'd planned."

Fiona felt blindsided. She turned to Joe, reaching for his hand. He took it and held it.

"Does he know?" she asked India. "Does my brother know?"

Seamie answered that question. "He does, Fee. It's what made him
break out of jail. He'd given up. He had no fight left in him at all
until Maggie Carr told him she was sure Charlotte was his daughter."

"How do you know that, Seamie?"

"I ...um...well, I sort of helped him do it."

"That figures," Joe said.

"Does Charlotte know?" Fiona asked.

India shook her head. "She doesn't. She just thinks Sid Baxter is an
awfully nice man. And that Freddie is--was--her father. I will tell her
one day, but not now. She's been through a lot recently. Too much."

Fiona turned to Joe again. "Did you know?"

"Yes, Fee. I've known for weeks."

"So I'm the only one who didn't know. Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, feeling betrayed.

"I couldn't," Joe said. "I'd given my word that I wouldn't."

"I don't understand."

Joe explained how he'd gone to talk with Ella Moskowitz--Ella Rosen now--and what she'd told him.

"She didn't want to tell me," he said, "but I pressed her, and she
finally told me about Sid and India and their child, but she swore me to
secrecy. She was worried about what would happen if Sid found out
Charlotte was his. I wanted to tell you, Fee, it was killing me that I
couldn't, but I couldn't break my word to Ella. So I had to find a way
to tell you without telling you myself."