The Ravenscar Dynasty. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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one of the servants to accidentally blurt out the news—’
‘They know, Ned. I’ve already spoken to them,’ Cecily cut in, looking up into his blue eyes. ‘Naturally they have taken it extremely badly. As I knew they would. I came in here a few moments ago in an effort to pull myself together. I was trying to calm myself when you walked in. And yes, we had better go and comfort them, reassure them that everything will be all right.’
‘Are you sure you’re up to it now?’ he asked, eyeing her.
Cecily’s voice quavered slightly as she answered, ‘I believe so, yes, Ned. I must come with you, it is vitally important for their wellbeing.’
He gave her his hand; she took it and rose. Together they left the room. Slowly they climbed the stairs leading up to the nursery floor which the younger children still used.
The moment he saw his mother George leapt up from the chair where he was seated and rushed to her, flinging himself against her body so hard she staggered slightly. He wrapped his arms around her, needing her protection, approbation and love. ‘Oh, Mama, why did it happen? Why? Why?’ he wailed, tears filling his smokey-green eyes. ‘WHY?’ he demanded in a louder voice, his young face full of grief and anger intermingled. ‘I want to know why Papa and Edmund are not coming back. Please tell me, Mama.’
‘If I knew I would of course tell you, George,’ Cecily softly responded, holding the boy closer, glancing down at him, her heart full. She smoothed her hand over his blond hair and went on, ‘None of us quite understand yet what happened, George. Ned is going to find out if he can, and then he will tell us.’
Turning to face his brother, George asked a little plaintively, ‘You will, won’t you, Ned?’
‘I will indeed…As soon as I know, you’ll be the next.’ Edward drew closer to his mother and brother and put his arms around them both protectively, holding them close to him for a few moments. Suddenly he became aware of Meg standing near the window sobbing; George’s volubility and Meg’s weeping only served to make him conscious of Richard’s absolute quietness, the pool of stillness surrounding him. The youngest of his siblings was huddled in a chair at the far end of the room, his face the colour of bleached bone, the light grey eyes almost black in the dimming light of late afternoon. The boy looked so sorrowing Edward felt heartsick.
Moving away from his mother, who was still holding George, Edward hurried across to Richard. He stared down at the youngest member of the family, and noticed at once that the pinched, drained look of earlier had settled on the child’s face yet again.
‘Don’t be afraid, Dick,’ Edward murmured softly, leaning down to the boy. ‘I’ll look after you.’
Richard nodded and struggled to his feet. Gazing up at his adored Ned, he whispered, ‘I want to know everything, like George. I want to know about Papa and Edmund.’ Tears came into his eyes and he said in a trembling voice that was almost inaudible, ‘I said Edmund could be impatient…I wish I hadn’t said that.’
‘I understand, but it’s all right, Dick, really it is.’ Reaching out, he pulled the youngster into his arms and held him tightly, stroking his dark head. ‘I will keep you safe. Always.’
‘You do promise?’ the boy whispered.
‘I do promise. And you must try to be brave and help Mama.’
‘I will, Ned. I promise, too.’ He hesitated and then asked, ‘Are you going to Italy?’
‘Yes, I have to, and Cousin Neville is coming with me. We’ll find out everything, and then I’ll tell you.’
‘You will come back, won’t you, Ned?’ Richard asked, his voice tremulous, his eyes suddenly awash with tears.
‘Of course I’ll come back…Ravenscar is my home, and you’re here, aren’t you? I shall always come back to you, Little Fish.’
Richard nodded, and glanced at Meg. ‘She’s been crying a long time.’
‘I shall go to her at once, perhaps I can console her.’
A moment later Edward was holding his sister in his arms, trying to calm her, soothe her, give her comfort.
Meg wept against his shoulder for a while, and then finally, taking deep breaths, she managed to gain control of herself. Slowly her shoulders stopped heaving and the sobs lessened. When she lifted her hands to her face and wiped away the tears with her fingertips, Edward saw at once the anguish in her eyes. The whole family had been totally bludgeoned by the tragic news Neville had brought earlier in the afternoon. They would be a long time recovering, if they ever did.
Edward said quietly to Meg, tilting her face to his, ‘Our Mother needs you at this terrible time, Meggie darling. You must endeavour to be strong for her, help her with George, and especially with Richard, who suffers in silence, as you well know.’
Meg could only nod, not trusting herself to say a word. She had been extremely close to her father and Edmund, and the pain she had suffered since hearing of their deaths had seared through her like a hot iron. She was well aware that she would never be that carefree young girl again and would mourn them for the rest of her life. She felt she had grown old in a few minutes.
After a while, taking more deep breaths she said, ‘How long will you be gone?’
Edward shook his head, his eyes suddenly bleak. ‘I don’t honestly know. A week, perhaps two, I just don’t know how long it will take to—’ He broke off abruptly. He had been about to wonder aloud how long it would take to bring the bodies back to Ravenscar. And then he had realized he simply could not mouth those words.
Edward could not sleep. All manner of troubling thoughts jostled for prominence in his mind, each one of them more dire than the other, and yet he did not seem able to focus on any problem in particular.
When he had come up to bed, an hour or two ago, he had believed that in the quiet and peacefulness of his bedroom he would be able to quickly sort everything out in his head, but this had not happened. And sleep had remained elusive as his busy mind had raced and raced.
Sighing, he tossed back the bedclothes in exasperation and got up. After putting on his thick woollen dressing gown, he padded over to the fireplace and threw two more logs into the grate. Instantly, sparks flew up the chimney, the fresh logs began to crackle, and in the sudden burst of bright firelight he saw that the carriage clock on the mantel read one-thirty. He was surprised how late it was.
After stepping into his slippers, Edward pulled a wing chair closer to the fire and sat down, his mind still churning. This day had been the worst of his life, one he would never forget. Sorrowful and grieving, his mother and the other children had sat at the dining table with him and Neville, not touching their food. None of them had eaten, and not much conversation had taken place either. Each and every one of them was too stunned and shattered by the news of the tragedy that had so diminished their family, and Neville’s as well.
Eventually his mother had shepherded the children up to their rooms; she had returned a short while later, had invited Neville and himself to join her in her sitting room just off the Long Hall. They had dutifully followed her, glancing at each other questioningly as they hurried behind her.
Within minutes, Jessup, the butler, had brought them a tray of brandy balloons and a decanter of cognac, placed it on a side table and departed. Ned and Neville had been the only ones to pour a drink for themselves; his mother had declined as she usually did.
Once the three of them were settled in front of the fire, Cecily had seemed reflective for a short while, and then she had looked at Ned intently. ‘I know you and Neville must go to Italy,’ she had begun, and then hesitated before continuing. ‘I just want to caution you to be scrupulously careful. And you also, Neville. Pay attention, and