The Midnight Rose (58 page)

For the following few days, my strong young body began to heal fast, and physically, I knew I was finally well. I agreed that Indira should book our passage for India as soon as possible. But still, I was unsure of my mental and emotional capacity and shied away from asking the questions I knew I must hear the answers to before I left England.

One afternoon, Indira arrived in my room to tell me I had a visitor.

“It’s Selina, Anni, and I think you should see her before we leave.”

Fear filled my heart, and I could feel the blood draining from my face. Indira took my hand. “I’ll be with you all the time, I promise. Really, Anni, we leave in two days’ time and you must speak with her.”

I nodded in resignation, and five minutes later, Indira and I walked down the stairs to the drawing room.

“Anni.” Selina stood up and walked over to me, her face as drawn and pale as my own. “How are you?” she said as she reached for my hand and clasped it in hers.

“I’m better, thank you.”

“Thank goodness! I was distraught when I saw you in that terrible place.”

“I can only apologize for causing so much trouble,” I replied sadly.

“Anni, don’t you dare ever to blame yourself for what has taken place,” Selina said with unusual vehemence. “This whole terrible tragedy is the work of one person alone. Come”—she took me by the arm—“please, sit down.”

We sat together on the Chesterfield sofa, my hand still clasped in Selina’s. Indira sat opposite us in a chair like a protective mother tiger watchfully guarding her fragile cub.

“Thank you for helping me, Selina.”

“Well, you mustn’t thank me. It’s Indira and her family who were the miracle workers.”

“Selina, please tell me you know that I did not try to murder Violet. She was my friend, I cared for her and at the end, even though I knew it was hopeless, I did everything I could for her.”

“Of
course
I know that, dearest Anni. You have a heart that’s only full of goodness. Anyway, let me start from the beginning. It’ll make everything easier to explain. When I eventually received the two telegrams in France that told me of both Violet’s and my brother’s deaths, I came home to Astbury immediately. It was only then I heard of your arrest on a charge for murder. I knew there was only one person who could possibly be responsible for it. So I went to see her.”

“You are referring to your mother?” I questioned.

“Yes. Of course she told me that she’d had absolutely nothing to do with it and insisted it was Dr. Trefusis who first voiced his doubts as to the remedies you’d given Violet both during her pregnancy and on the day she died. By that time, Violet’s parents had arrived for her funeral and Dr. Trefusis discussed his concerns with them. Understandably, they wished to blame someone, so both they and my mother told Dr. Trefusis he should go to the police with his suspicions.”

“And yet he knew he was culpable himself,” Indira interjected. “After all, he was the doctor in charge.”

“The two of them had many reasons to want to see you out of the way, Anni,” said Selina, sighing. “Dr. Trefusis was using you as his scapegoat, and my mother—well, we all know why she wanted rid of you.”

“She came to see me a few days after Violet died,” I mused. “She was terrified that now Violet was gone, Donald might go ahead and marry me as he’d originally planned.”

“And if he’d lived, he may well have done so,” Selina said, trying to comfort me. “He loved you so very much.”

“And I him . . .” My voice trailed off and I felt the panic begin to rise inside me at the thought of what I had lost. I knew I must steady myself to continue without becoming hysterical. “Selina, I must tell you that before your mother came to visit, I’d already decided I must leave Astbury forever. I understood that neither of us could ever have recovered from Violet’s death. But how could they find any proof that I had poisoned her?”

“Anni, do you remember Dr. Trefusis visiting you once to take cuttings of the plants and herbs you grew?”

“Why yes. He said he was interested in discovering more about their medicinal properties.”

“Sadly,” said Selina, “the good doctor took some cuttings not only of innocuous herbs, but also specimens that are apparently renowned to be dangerous, especially in pregnancy. And he took these to the police as evidence. One was pennyroyal, a species of mint that has been proved to be harmful to a pregnant woman. On that day of Violet’s death, you brought her a remedy you had made yourself for her edema and fed her mint tea to stop her nausea.”

“Oh my God.” My hand went over my mouth and my eyes involuntarily filled with tears. “Yes I did, but not pennyroyal! Just ordinary, plain mint leaves, which also grow in my garden. Selina, I have studied Ayurvedic medicine since I could walk. Pennyroyal can normally be drunk in a tea safely in small amounts. It grows wild here in Devon and is very good for treating colds and influenza. But of
course
I’m aware of how dangerous it can be to a pregnant woman. It can cause premature birth, fits, bleeding . . .” My voice trailed off as I realized how well it all fitted.

“Anni, please, try not to upset yourself. We all know you’d do nothing to harm anyone,” said Indira, trying to comfort me.

“And to make matters worse,” Selina continued, “Dr. Trefusis was able to produce a paper written by an eminent professor in America. It gives specific details on the damaging effects of pennyroyal to pregnant women. Dr. Trefusis also produced a sample of black cohosh root, another herb considered dangerous in pregnancy. One of the kitchen staff said you’d given her a tea of it to drink recently.”

“Yes, because it’s very good for rheumatism!” I could feel my heart pounding.

“So, the police went to your cottage and saw that indeed you did cultivate these and other herbs in your greenhouse and garden,” said Selina.

“But surely even with the cuttings from my garden, there could be no proof I had actually given them to Violet?”

“Dearest Anni, please try not to be naive.” Indira shook her head in exasperation. “Really, nothing more was needed. Maud Astbury reigns like a queen locally and holds the authorities in the palm of her hand. Violet was dead, and if Maud decided she wanted someone charged
with her murder, the local police would see to it immediately, no matter how limited the evidence.”

“Yes,” I sighed helplessly. “I suppose I can see that. So, how were the charges dropped?”

“I immediately went to confront my mother and begged her to convince the police to drop the case. She wouldn’t hear of it; she said it was out of her hands and that justice must be done.” Selina grimaced. “Anni, I must tell you that I lost control that day. I’m afraid I said exactly what I’d wanted to say to her for years; that she was a bitter, bigoted, selfish woman and that as far as I was concerned, she was dead in my eyes, just like my poor brother. I told her I’d never come to Astbury again as long as she was alive.”

“So that was when Selina contacted me.” Indira took up the story. “And, thankfully, my mother is much more intelligent and has friends in even higher places than Maud,” she explained with a glint of triumph in her eyes. “I believe it only took one telephone call to make sure the charges were dropped. The only stipulation was that you must return to India and never go back to England again.”

“I see. What about the Drumners? Do they still believe I murdered their daughter?”

“I think they have enough troubles of their own,” said Selina. “Sissy is not at all well, but even so, they insisted their granddaughter should return to New York to live with them. My mother, of course, refused, saying that Daisy must remain at Astbury Hall under her care, as she was the legal heiress. They returned to New York ready to launch all kinds of court battles to win custody of their granddaughter.”

“So that poor little baby might be brought up by Maud?” I said in horror.

“Almost certainly,” said Selina. “After all, baby Daisy is a British citizen and even the Drumners’ vast resources are unlikely to help them win custody of her. I begged Mother that dreadful day to give Daisy to me so that I could bring her up in my nursery with her cousins, but, of course, she wouldn’t hear of it. She has already moved back to Astbury Hall, once more in control of her kingdom, with free rein to fashion the next generation in her own form. I haven’t seen her so full of energy in years,” Selina said bitterly.

The three of us sat in silence, and I felt sick to my stomach. Maud Astbury had destroyed one generation and now had been handed the power to destroy another.

“I always thought she was mad as a hatter,” said Indira with a smile, ever eager to lighten a dark atmosphere.

“You may be joking, but I think you might be right,” said Selina. “It was there in my mother’s eyes when we were talking. Something that looked like actual madness.”

“She is the devil incarnate,” I muttered, shuddering. “I do apologize, Selina,” I said quickly.

“Please, say what you wish,” she comforted me. “I can assure you that I feel exactly the same. So much so that Henri and I have decided that we’ll move to France with the children permanently. I don’t even wish to be in the same country as her.”

“Witches can’t cross running water at least,” I said with a glimmer of a smile.

Selina glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “I’m so sorry, but I must leave now. I beg you, Anni, keep in touch with me. If you have an opportunity, please come and visit us in France. Where will you both be heading once you reach India?”

“My parents’ palace in Cooch Behar to begin with,” replied Indira. “Ma is desperate to see poor Anni, and it means I don’t have to return to the zenana at my husband’s palace for a while longer.” She gave Selina her cheeky grin.

We stood up and Selina wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so terribly, terribly sorry for the pain you’ve suffered. I’m sure that, wherever he is, Donald and your little one are looking down at you and loving you.”

“Thank you, Selina, for everything,” I whispered. As she walked toward the door, I knew I had to ask the question that had been assiduously avoided by all of us since she had arrived.

“Selina, where is my son buried?”

She stopped at the door, took a breath and turned around. “I asked the same question when I arrived back at Astbury. Anni, the villagers and servants are unaware of Moh’s death. They have been told he went with you when you were arrested. My mother obviously didn’t want it known that Donald had died riding over to the cottage to rescue his own son. The only other person who knows the truth is Dr. Trefusis, who told me that Moh had been discreetly laid to rest in a corner of the parish church in the village. When I subsequently visited, there was fresh earth on a grave, but the priest told me that when he performed the burial and inquired whether a headstone was required, Dr. Trefusis
said it wasn’t. The vicar was told the child had died at birth and had no name. I’m so sorry, Anni,” she said, her eyes full of tears.

“Even in death, his existence had to be a secret,” I whispered.

“I know it’s no consolation, but he’s buried in a very tranquil spot, Anni. I placed some beautiful roses on his grave for you. I know you’re of a different religion, but I hope that was right. I . . . there are no words to describe how terrible this must be for you, Anni. I’m so very sorry.”

I felt for her then, desperately stumbling over the words in order not to hurt me further. She was a mother too.

“Thank you, Selina. What you did was perfect.”

“I’ve also given Indira a copy of Moh’s death certificate signed by Dr. Trefusis,” she added. “Good-bye, Anni, take care.”

As she left, I saw the concern on Indira’s face. I knew she was fearful that facing the reality of my dead child might break me again. After all, it was the first time I’d mentioned the subject.

“I’m going upstairs to rest,” I said to her.

“Anni, are you all right?”

“Yes,” I reassured her, and left the drawing room.

Looking back, as I climbed the stairs and entered the peaceful sanctuary of the bedroom where Indira had nursed me back to life, I realized that I was indeed calm.

But why?

•  •  •

As we left England’s shores two days later, and the terror and pain of the past few weeks began to drop gradually away from my befuddled brain, I realized.

I knew then that I’d heard the singing for Donald on that last night we spent together. But never for you, Moh. On that last morning, just before the police arrived, when I’d laid you down in your cot for your nap and kissed you on your forehead as I always did, I’d neither felt nor heard anything.

Every night when I stood on deck and asked those above for guidance, I listened for the voices that would assail my senses when someone had passed over. Just as they had done for both Violet and Donald, yet I could hear nothing for you.

Just before we docked, Indira—who had taken my newfound calm as acceptance—handed me two envelopes one evening before dinner.

“Open that one first,” she encouraged, pointing to the smaller one.

I did so, and inside my fingers recognized the cool, silky texture of the pearls Donald had given to me.

“They were with your clothes when we left the prison, but I thought it might upset you too much to see them before now. Can I help you with the clasp?” said Indira as I pulled them out of the envelope.

“Thank you.” Feeling their weight around my neck once more comforted me, and my fingertips reached to touch them as they had done so many times before.

Indira indicated the other envelope. “In there is a photograph of you and Moh. And also his death certificate, Anni. I thought you’d want to keep it.”

I paused for a moment before I answered. I smiled to myself. “Thank you, Indy. But I don’t need his death certificate.”

“I understand,” she said sympathetically.

“Because my son isn’t dead. I know he still lives.”