Barbara Taylor Bradford – The Complete Ravenscar Trilogy: The Ravenscar Dynasty, Heirs of Ravenscar, Being Elizabeth (страница 40)

‘I’m afraid so,’ Neville confirmed, grimacing. ‘The whole thing was handled very clumsily, badly, and so it’s most transparent. His watch was left in his suit pocket, and so was the notebook. Only bank notes were taken. To make it look like a robbery.’

‘But he never has very much money on him,’ Cecily pointed out. ‘As often as not Swinton has to pay the hansom cab out of the household petty cash when Ned comes home.’

‘It’s the Grants, there’s no question in my mind about that. Who else could it be?’

‘What are we going to do about them, Neville? They’re a menace.’

‘Reprisals. There will have to be reprisals, I think. To put them on notice that they have met their match in Ned and myself. However, I want to think things out carefully, not act in haste, or rashly. We must be subtle, and we can’t do anything that would involve us with the police. Don’t you agree?’

‘I do indeed, and I will leave it to you, Neville. You are a clever man, I know…you take after my brother, your father.’

‘Michael Robertson,’ the doctor announced as he came into the waiting room several hours later, just before noon.

He was smiling as he approached Neville, who had risen and was walking towards him.

‘Neville Watkins, Dr Robertson. I’m Mr Deravenel’s cousin. From your expression I’m encouraged to believe he has regained consciousness.’

‘Yes, indeed he has. However, he is sleeping at the moment, and we feel he must be allowed to sleep, not be disturbed for a while.’

‘I understand.’ Neville brought Cecily over to the doctor, and introduced her. ‘This is Mr Deravenel’s mother, Dr Robertson, Mrs Cecily Deravenel.’

After shaking the doctor’s hand, Cecily asked, ‘Was my son in a coma?’

‘Not a coma, no. But he was unconscious, and he still has concussion, but I can assure you he will recover from this ordeal, Mrs Deravenel. He really will.’

TWENTY-ONE

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.’