After a while, the sound of cutlery on china seemed abnormally loud. The beef stew may as well have been sawdust and I only managed a couple of mouthfuls before a tetchy voice called from down the hall. “Where is the young lady with the hurt arm?”
While Hannah stood by, Doctor Judd examined me. “A sprain, as I thought,” he proclaimed. “Hannah, can you please make a sling for Verity’s arm? And Verity, I want you to rub this on your shoulder morning and night.” He held out a small brown bottle and I wrinkled my nose at the smell. “It’s a formula of my own making; it contains goanna oil.”
Wasn’t a goanna a kind of lizard?
“Harold told me what happened. This kind of mental and physical stimulation is most injurious to the female system. You must rest. You must not exert yourself any further.”
How could I rest? I kept seeing Drucilla’s face. I kept hearing Helen scream.
“You’re to do as I say.” He packed up his bag. “To bed, lass – doctor’s orders.” He turned to Hannah. “Please give her a cup of chamomile tea.” He patted her hand before he picked up his bag to leave. “Have courage, my dearie.”
Hannah put the kettle on the hob and went to the dresser for a teacup. But somehow in getting it down she fumbled and it fell. Her hands were shaking as she picked up the pieces.
I tried to reassure her. “Papa has called in our friend Saddington Plush. He’s an experienced detective. He’ll find them, Hannah.” Was I just trying to convince myself? “He might even be able to catch the kidnappers.”
My words didn’t have the effect I’d hoped for. Hannah went white. She stared down at the smashed cup as if she was seeing something else. “Oh no,” she whispered. Then she came to herself again. “I’ll bring you your tea as soon as the kettle boils.” She sounded cross. “Off to bed with you, right now.”
I was sure I wouldn’t sleep, but I did. Deeply, heavily, for almost an hour. When I woke, my shoulder still ached but I felt better. More like myself. I knew that we faced not a nightmare but a real-life challenge. Did I really have to stay in bed? Doctor’s orders – pooh! I thought. Like many men, Doctor Judd thought females couldn’t cope with excitement or danger. Well, I could tell him a thing or two about both that would curl his hair.
I put my arm into the sling Hannah had made for me from a torn-up sheet, and went to find Papa.
He was sitting with Harold and Mr Leviny in the Indian room.
“Oh, ma pauvre petite! Look what they did to her, Ernö.”
Mr Leviny nodded sympathetically.
“Why are you not in bed?” said Papa. “You should be resting.”
“I had a sleep, Papa. Now I feel quite well again.” There must have been something convincing in my voice, for after a feeble attempt to make me lie on the sofa, Papa gave up fussing and began to tell me what was happening.
“Ernö came at once, as you can see,” said Papa. “We are discussing how to proceed.”
“I have power of attorney over Nicky’s affairs,” said Mr Leviny. “This is good, because it means we will be able to get the money for the ransom.”
Money? I hadn’t thought that far ahead. The kidnappers would demand money before they returned Helen and Drucilla.
“Mr Leviny and Uncle both think that we mustn’t involve the police at this stage,” said Harold. I could tell he disagreed.
“And we will keep this a secret among ourselves. I will tell Mrs Leviny that Miss Deane was suddenly called away,” said Mr Leviny.
“Won’t she suspect something?” I said. “After all, Drucilla’s things are still at your house.”
“No, no, she won’t even think about it. You see, Doctor Judd has confirmed that Kate has the measles and no doubt soon all the others will have it too.”
“And it is good that Poppy and Connie are with Judith,” said Papa. “We will be able to keep this to ourselves for a while longer.”
“Indeed,” said Mr Leviny.
“So we can do nothing?” asked Harold. Like me, he wanted to take action.
Mr Leviny nodded. “We must be patient.” He took a sip of sherry and settled back into his armchair. “Did you know, Pierre, that I was bailed up once? It was twenty years ago. The goldfields were rough and dangerous in those days. Why, when I left London one of my friends, thinking I would need to protect myself, gave me a pair of duelling pistols.” Mr Leviny stroked his silvery beard. “He said they once belonged to Admiral Nelson.”
“Astonishing!” said Papa.
Were they going to sit there, patting their beards and telling tales? I shifted restlessly in my seat.
“But when I needed those pistols, of course I did not have them. You’ve seen my design for the presentation cup – an emu egg mounted in silver? Judge Collins had me make it for the Bishop of Sandhurst. We were on our way to deliver it when all of a sudden there was a shot, a voice calling ‘Bail up!’ and a gang of bushrangers held up the coach.” He paused dramatically.
“What happened?” I asked. In spite of myself I was absorbed in his tale. “Were you hurt?”
“Did the police catch them?” said Harold.
“I was left unharmed, but the judge was kidnapped and the egg stolen. Mrs Collins paid the ransom and under cover of darkness the poor judge was left, wearing only his underclothes, on the road. And no, Harold. I offered a reward for the return of the egg, but no one came forward. The gang was never caught, nor were their identities ever known. The leader was quite a dandy – he wore a silk cravat to hide his face, and fancy gloves. In fact, he always left a glove as a calling card. That became his motif, his signature. That’s why he was known as the Red Gauntlet.”
“Mr Leviny,” I said. “What colour was the glove?”
“Red, of course. It was always red.”
“Like that?” I pointed to the glove which was sitting on the mantelpiece where Papa had placed it. “The kidnappers left it in the phaeton.”
Mr Leviny gave a gasp of surprise. “Can it be?” he said. “Is this the return of the Red Gauntlet?”
At that very moment, the doorbell rang. Then it rang again, and we heard Hannah’s firm tread up the passage, followed by a man’s voice. A few seconds later Hannah appeared in the doorway with a worried expression on her face.
“There’s a gentleman here, a Mr Emeric Mallard. I have shown him into the sitting room.”
“We have no time for callers now,” said Mr Leviny, and Papa nodded in agreement. “Please take his card. Or if he has no card, his name and address. Then show him the door, Hannah.”
“But sir, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“He says … he says he is Mrs Petrov’s brother.”