The Christmas Card by Dilly Court

Author:Dilly Court
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008137397
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2016-08-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Alice barely slept that night, and when she did drift off in the cold small hours her dreams were haunted by Flora’s plea for help. Next morning she rose early. It was clear that Mr Dearborn knew nothing of his daughter’s plight and must be made aware of it as quickly as possible. She could not wait until Monday morning when he would be occupied with business matters, and so she set off for Russell Square with the letter in her reticule.

Hoskins let her in although he seemed doubtful as to whether the master would be willing to see her. ‘The mistress left instructions that you weren’t to be admitted under any circumstances, Miss Alice,’ he said in a low voice. ‘But she’s still abed and unlikely to rise before noon.’

‘It’s about Miss Flora. I must speak to Mr Dearborn; it can’t wait.’

Hoskins glanced over his shoulder. ‘I suggest you go to the kitchen, miss. Cook will take care of you until the master comes down for his breakfast, and then I’ll ask him if he’ll see you.’

The prospect of a warm fire and perhaps a hot cup of tea was too tempting to resist. As she went down the back stairs and the aroma of cooking assailed her nostrils Alice realised that she was very hungry. She had missed supper and had left the house too early for breakfast, which in any case was usually tea and toast with the merest a scrape of butter.

Cook was busy preparing the joint to roast for Sunday luncheon, and Nettie was the first to spot Alice. She hurried round the table to give her a hug. ‘I know as how I shouldn’t say it, miss, but I’m so pleased to see you.’

‘Get back to work, Nettie,’ Cook said, frowning. ‘What can I do for you, Miss Radcliffe?’

‘If I might sit for a while I’d be very grateful, Cook. I came to see Mr Frederick on an urgent matter.’

‘Miss Flora, is it?’ Cook reached for the teapot. ‘Nettie, fetch a cup and saucer and bring the fruitcake from the pantry. Miss Radcliffe looks perished and half-starved.’

‘It is about Flora,’ Alice said, mystified. ‘How did you know?’

‘She’d be the only reason you would enter this house again, miss.’ Cook poured the tea and cut a generous slice of cake. ‘Pass this to Miss Radcliffe, Nettie. Then get on with peeling those vegetables. We haven’t got all day.’

‘It does concern Flora,’ Alice said carefully. ‘But I need to discuss it with her father.’

‘I understand.’ Cook attacked the leg of lamb, stabbing sprigs of rosemary into the flesh. ‘The sort of school she’s been sent to is just for rich folk to get rid of the children they can’t be bothered with, if you ask me. It was bound to end badly.’

Alice sipped her tea, saying nothing. The cake was rich, fruity and delicious, and she ate hungrily, all the while keeping an eye on the clock above the mantelshelf. She looked up with a start as one of the bells on the wall board jangled impatiently.

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