A Conspiracy of Ravens (14 page)

“Faster! Faster, Dylan!”

Dylan had found a sled in the barn and had rigged it so that David could ride on it. Now he was pulling it forward with all the speed he could muster. “Wait, David, and you will see something!” he cried out. He had pulled the sled up a steep incline and now glanced back at the house, which was clothed in the pristine whiteness of the morning’s snowfall. His glance went to David, whose cheeks were red and eyes were dancing with pleasure. “We’ll see what kind of a lad you are in just a moment.”

Reaching the top of the crest, Dylan stopped and breathed deeply for a moment. His injuries from the encounter he’d had with the bull were practically gone, only a twinge in his side now and then. Matthew Grant had said, “It’s a good thing that your side got beat up instead of your face. You wouldn’t be much good as an actor if you were all scarred up.”

Indeed, that was true enough, but now Dylan was thankful that he had regained practically all of his strength.

“Are we going to slide down that hill, Dylan?”

“Indeed, we are.”

Dylan shoved the sled to the very brink. “Do you have the nerve to go down?”

“Yes!” David cried. “I can do it!”

“You must be cautious. What if you hurt yourself? Your mother would have my head.” Dylan joined David on the sled, shoved off, and the sled moved forward. It picked up momentum, and he heard David yelling with joy. When they got to the foot of the hill, Dylan turned the sled sideways so that it tipped over.

David rolled over several times in the snow, and Dylan also was on the ground with him. “Is it fun, boy, you’re having?”

“Yes!” David exclaimed. “I can do it by myself.”

“You could hurt yourself.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“All right then. By yourself it is.” The two made their way back to the top of the hill, and this time when David got on the sled, Dylan gave him a gentle shove. He watched as the sled started down the hill, wondering if he had done the right thing, but it turned out well. David got to the foot of the hill without turning over and immediately called, “Do it again, Dylan! Do it again!”

Dylan marched down the hill and said, “No, that’s enough for now. We’ve got to go back to the house.”

“Why? I want to sled some more.”

“We’re going to make snow cream.”

“Snow cream?” David demanded, looking up at Dylan. “What’s snow cream?”

“It’s a secret formula only we Welshmen know. Come along now.”

The two tramped back to the house, David’s shorter legs going deep into the snow. Dylan suddenly reached down, grabbed him, and put him astride his shoulders. “Now, you ride there,” he said.

When they reached the house, Serafina was standing at the open door. “I was watching you out the window on that sled. You fell. David could have been hurt.”

Dylan reached up, plucked David off his shoulders, and set him down. His face was ruddy with the exercise, and he wore no cap, so his black hair contrasted almost violently with the whiteness of the snow. There was a masculinity, a strength about the man Serafina had been drawn to, and now, as always, he had the ability to make her seem small and fragile. This was something she did not like, for she prefered to think herself the equal of any man. Her common sense and rational approach told her this was not so, that many men would be physically stronger. But now she grew argumentative as she often did.

“It’s dangerous. When you rolled over, he could have hurt himself.”

“If a boy can’t take a little bump like that, let him put skirts around his knees.”

“I’m all right, Mum,” David cried out. “We’re going to make snow cream.”

“Snow cream? What’s that?”

“It’s something I specialize in.” Dylan grinned at her. “We have to go to the kitchen.”

“Well, you can’t track all that snow in. Go around to the back door.”

“Right, you!”

As they arrived in the kitchen, David was full of talk. He was excited and repeated the things he and Dylan had done. Once again it made Serafina realize how hungry the boy was for companionship. There were no small boys his age in the immediate vicinity, no one for David to play with. None of the servants had boys his age, and she knew he grew lonely, so she made a resolve to spend more time with him. She realized at once, however, that Dylan Tremayne added something to David’s life that was not her gift to give.

“Let’s make snow cream!”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“It sounds good though.”

Nessa Douglas joined them, and Dylan said, “I need a few things from you, Cook.”

“What would you need from me?”

“We’re going to make snow cream,” David announced. “You ever make that, Nessa?”

“I don’t even know what it is.”

“Well, if you are a good girl, I’ll give you some of it.” Dylan reached out and pinched the cook on the shoulder. Serafina saw her face flush and wondered again at the power Dylan Tremayne had to please women. Cook was thirty-three years old and happily married, but still Dylan’s attention pleased her. “Well, tell me what it is, and I’ll tell you how you can get along without it.”

“It would be unlikely, not while the mistress of Trentwood is here.”

“Give him what he wants, Nessa, or there’ll never be any peace,” Serafina said.

Dylan said, “There now. There’s not much I want. Just my own way. Now, I’ll have some cream, thick as you’ve got it, some sugar, and some vanilla.”

Serafina and David watched as Nessa brought out the ingredients. “Now, I need a big bowl, the biggest you’ve got.”

“This will have to do,” Nessa said, handing him a large, deep bowl.

“That’ll be just fine.” Dylan mixed the sugar, cream, and vanilla and tasted it. “A little more vanilla, I think.” He added a few more drops of vanilla, beat it, and then said, “Now, we need three big spoons and three small bowls.” When Cook gave him a large bowl, he grinned at Serafina. “Now come outside and you’ll have your first bite of snow cream.”

They donned their coats and went outside. Going down the steps, Dylan said, “We need to find a nice smooth spot where nobody’s walked.”

“What about over there?” Serafina said, pointing to part of the lawn that was as smooth as the floor in the house.

“Just right. Come along.”

“Here now, David, you hold this bowl while I do the mixing.”

David grasped the bowl by the edges, his enormous eyes watching Dylan as he began to scoop snow into it. He would scoop some, mix it with the ingredients in the bottom, and continue until finally it was done. “Now then, let’s have the bowls.”

Serafina held the bowls out as Dylan filled them. “Let’s have the spoons now, ma’am.” Each of them took a spoon, and Dylan tasted the mixture. “Just right. See if you like it, David.”

David took a heaping spoonful and stuck it in his mouth. His eyes opened wide. “It’s cold,” he said.

“Hurts your teeth a little bit, but you’ll freeze them up. How does it taste?”

“It’s good!”

“Why, this is delicious, Dylan! I’ve never heard of it before!” Serafina exclaimed.

“My grandmother Bronwyn taught me this when I was just a boy about David’s age or even younger. She was a fine woman, she was. Fair and beautiful she was, in my sight anyway.”

David finished his bowl and demanded more.

“Couldn’t we go in the house?” Serafina asked.

“No, it wouldn’t do. Snow cream melts when you take it into a house. I’ll tell you what, though. We’ll make some more up, and we’ll put the bowl in the snow out here. That’ll keep it just about right, and it’ll get even better with a little aging.”

At that moment James Barden, the butler, came to the back door and called, “Lady Trent, you have a visitor.”

“Who is it, Barden?”

“It’s Lord Darby and his wife.”

“Lord Darby? Tell them I’ll be right in. Put them in the small parlour. Come on, David. We need to get you cleaned up.”

“I’ll just make some more snow cream and put it in the snow. Cover it up so that no varmints can get at it. We’ll have some more after a while, right, David?”

“Yes!”

Serafina went inside, took off her coat, and went at once into the small parlour. She was greeted by Lord Darby and Lady Heather, and she smiled warmly in return. “It’s so good to see you. I’m so glad you’ve come for a visit.”

“Well, it’s more than just a visit,” Lord Darby said. “I understand your friend Dylan Tremayne is here.”

“Yes, he’s been playing with David all morning.”

“He plays with David?” Heather said with some surprise. “You never told us that.”

Serafina could not help but smile. “He’s like a boy himself, a big boy, to be sure. He gets down on the floor and plays with David as if they were the same age.”

“That’s wonderful, Serafina,” Edward Darby said. “We’d like to see him, if possible.”

Serafina was curious. She turned and went to the door. “Louisa, would you fix some tea, please. For four. And tell Mr. Tremayne he’s wanted in the parlour.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Turning back inside, she sat down and studied them furtively. They were both upset for some reason, and she saw a tension in their faces she could not understand.

They waited until Dylan arrived, and Edward stood at once and shook hands with him. Dylan was a little surprised. He bowed to Lady Heather and greeted them both.

“We have something to tell you, Serafina.” He hesitated for a moment then glanced at Heather and seemed to gain strength. “We were visited by a Catholic priest, Father Francis Xavier . . .”

Serafina listened as Darby told the story of the priest’s visit. She saw then that there was hope in the countenance of both of them that had been missing before.

Serafina marveled at the story. She glanced at Dylan and saw that he was staring at the pair intently.

“What have you done about this so far, Lord Darby?”

“I’ve gone to the hospital and checked the records—which are scarce. Then I’ve gone to the police. They have looked into the matter.”

“What did they say?” Dylan asked abruptly.

“They said there was no hope, that it was eighteen years ago, and they could do nothing.”

“Perhaps if you talked to Matthew Grant, he could help.”

“It was Grant we talked to,” Heather said suddenly. “He was very sympathetic, but he offered no hope at all.”

A silence fell over the room, and then Heather spoke up, her face alight. “You solved a murder, a case the police couldn’t solve. Will you help us, Serafina?”

Serafina felt suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m not really a detective. I’m more of a scientist.”

“We have no one else to go to,” Edward Darby said. “I beg you to help us.”

“That woman, from what you told me, came from the very worst part of London. I don’t know that world. That’s where whoever searches for him will have to go.”

“I know it’s not your world, but Mr. Tremayne knows it very well,” Edward said, glancing at Dylan.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I was brought up in it, for the most part, when I was just a lad. I’m not very proud of some of the things I did there.”

“But you know the world,” Edward insisted.“I know you turned down a very lucrative role because of moral reasons, and I honour you for that. Now, I want to hire you to find our son.”

Dylan did not hesitate. “I am not a detective any more than Lady Trent is, but I will do the very best I can. However, I would not want a salary to do this.”

“That would not be right,” Edward said. “We want you to throw yourself into the search. It takes money for things like this. I want you to take a fee, and you must have money, I assume, to carry out the search.”

Serafina interrupted, “Would you excuse us for a moment? I need to speak to Mr. Tremayne alone.”

“Certainly,” Heather said.

Serafina moved outside, and Dylan followed her. As soon as the door was closed, she turned to him. “I have a great affection for this couple, Dylan. I don’t want to raise any false hopes.”

“Are you going to try to help them?”

“Yes, but I can’t do it alone. If we could do this together, I would be very grateful.”

“I’ll do my very best, Lady Serafina. We’ll trust the good Lord, and He’ll help us.”

Serafina never knew exactly what to say when Dylan brought the Lord into his conversation. He always spoke quite easily of God, of the Lord, of the Saviour, as if he were speaking of an intimate friend. She cleared her throat and could not think of a proper answer, so she nodded. “Let’s go talk to them.”

They went back into the parlour, and Serafina declared, “We will do the very best we can.”

“Oh, I’m so relieved!” Heather cried. She came forward and embraced Serafina. “I know that you’ll be able to help us.”

Edward smiled and went forward to pat Serafina’s shoulder, then turned and shook hands with Dylan. “Thank you, sir. I feel that we’re in good hands.” He reached into his pocket and took out a thick envelope, saying, “This is not your salary, Dylan, but I know that in cases like this you may have to bribe some people, pay for information. When you need more, come to me.”

The two left, and as soon as they were gone, Serafina turned and said, “I don’t know where to start, Dylan. I solved our last case by breaking a code in a book, but this isn’t something in a book. It’s different. What do we do first?”