Page 23

Mr Shilton also thought of Miss Rose and her evident affection for the child; she would not be happy at him being sent away to an inferior abode. Perhaps he could take Billy down to his country estate at Epsom, where one of the labourer’s wives might be willing to foster him? But the child’s mother indicated she intended to return and it was incumbent on him to keep the child healthy and happy in the meantime.

He had called for his doctor to come and examine the boy. Billy was given a glowing bill of health; well-fed and clean, free of nits and mites and any sign of disease, unusually responsive and intelligent when exposed to stimuli. Ferdinand Shilton had been present for some of the examination and was surprised by how touching it was to see the baby, vulnerable and naked, reaching for the physician’s spectacles while saying what sounded remarkably like ‘For Billy’. The doctor seemed to be as charmed as everyone else in his household, apart from Maltby, and declared him a fit young man of probably no more than ten months, tall and strong and generally advanced for his age.

Much to Mr Shilton’s chagrin, it was obvious the doctor also thought Billy was his son. Certainly, all his servants appeared to see him as a scion of the house, unexpected but welcome with his beauty and sunny nature brightening their day. He had given them a stern lecture that he wanted no gossiping outside his four walls; he told them he knew nothing about Billy or his mother but had been asked to care for him until the boy could return to his own home again. This was temporary, he told them, fervently hoping he was right, but also realising that tittle-tattle about the sexual incontinences of their masters or mistresses was as grist to every servant’s mill.

Just as he was staring into his glass, feeling baffled and unsettled as his world was suddenly turned on its well-ordered head, Ferdy Shilton heard a tap at the library door and Max Flambard entered. His hair was tousled too but not by the ministrations of a baby.

‘Greetings, old friend!’ he said as he advanced on the brandy and poured himself a glass. ‘You’re looking a trifle haggard. Been burning the candle at both ends? Though that’s more my line.’

Ferdy looked up at his friend, his blue eyes hollowed in a taut, pale face. ‘Max, we have a new guest. A baby called Billy.’

Max let out a hoot of laughter. ‘What the devil, Ferdy! Not yours, I trust?’

‘Well, there’s the rub. I don’t think he is, but he was left on my doorstep with an affecting note from his mother, asking me to care for him until she could come back and claim him.’

‘But why you, dammit, if he isn’t your son?’

‘She said she knew me as a kind and rich man. But, Max, the devil of it is he looks like me.’

Max was highly amused and leapt to his feet. ‘I must see this prodigy. The world is not big enough for two of such fabled goodness and beauty!’ He was still laughing as his friend led him out of the room and down to the kitchen quarters. There they found Mabel and Mrs Moffat offering mashed vegetables and boiled lamb to the boy, who was propped in a chair in the window, the sun illuminating his golden curls like a halo of light round his head. The child glanced up and smiled, waving his spoon at the two men, who gazed at him for a moment, speechless.

Mrs Moffat straightened her back and turned a shining face to her employer. ‘Oh, Mr Shilton, just bathed this little gentleman and we’re washing his clothes. ’E’s such a cheerful little soul. ’Ope ye don’t mind, but I’ve used one of yer old linen neckcloths to wrap his top ’alf and an old clout to pin round his nethers.’

Mabel was emboldened too by her elevation in the household to Billy’s nursemaid and volunteered in her shy way, ‘He loves to bang on the table with a spoon when we sing to him. He’s prodigious clever and musical, Sir.’

Ferdy was aware of his friend beside him, barely managing to stifle his mirth, and so hurriedly thanked the two women and retreated to the library, where Max could let out his suppressed guffaw. ‘Ferdy! Of course he’s yours! Look at him. His colouring, his angelic face, his happy temperament. How could you doubt it?’

‘Well, I do. But I fear the whole world will not. Do you see my dilemma?’

They were back in their chairs on either side of the fire, nursing glasses of Ferdy’s best French brandy. Having recovered from his fit of hilarity, Max said ruminatively, ‘Same thing happened to my cousin. Did you know him? Blashford, a bit of a blade, to be honest. Well, he had a regular lady love and when she had a bairn, she got disgruntled with his lack of concern, so left the newborn bantling on Blashers’s doorstep.’

‘Billy’s not newborn. He’s ten months old, the doctor thinks, and crawling already.’ Ferdy was shocked to hear a hint of pride in his voice as if the boy’s advanced development had anything to do with him and he hurriedly returned to a cool, disinterested manner. ‘What happened to the child?’

‘Blashers sent him to be fostered by the blacksmith’s family on his estate. When the boy grew into a big handsome brute, like his father, my cousin bought him a commission in the Hussars. Apparently he’s acquitted himself well.’

Ferdy stretched his fine legs in their beautiful buff pantaloons towards the fire and said, ‘My situation is complicated by the fact that Billy’s mother seems to intend to come back for him. He’s just on temporary loan, hopefully. But, also, the young female acquaintance who found him has taken a shine to him. She wouldn’t countenance his having any but the best care. She’s quite a tender-hearted young miss.’

Max kicked a log in the grate. ‘Save me from tender-hearted chits! They cause the most infernal trouble with their excess of sensibility and delicacy of feeling.’

‘Oh, I don’t think Miss Rose has too much delicacy of feeling, she’s all for having unsympathetic members of her wider family blown off a cliff to their deaths in a storm.’ Ferdy laughed to himself. ‘It’s more she has a warmth of heart that seems to have settled her concerns on this young foundling.’

‘Women are best kept out of men’s affairs. They really don’t understand when to leave well alone. I presume you have enough staff to look after the boy while you decide?’

‘Indeed. They’re all cock-a-hoop, apart from Maltby who disapproves of anything irregular and is most distressed by this. The trouble is, he’s a very taking child and all my servants think he’s my son.’

‘Well, how do you know he isn’t?’

‘That’s the damnable problem. I can’t prove he’s not. Until I meet his mother and hear more of her story, I’m in the dark about Billy’s origins.’

‘I think your biggest problem will be Miss Payton. What does Mistress Princum-Prancum say?’

Ferdy was roused to defend his betrothed from his friend’s scorn. ‘Don’t be so disobliging, Max! She’s not at all princum-prancum, Miss Payton just has a strong moral sense and I commend her for that.’

‘Well, as long as she doesn’t impose her moral sense on others. So, what does Miss Payton advise? After all, if people think Billy is your by-blow, then it reflects somewhat on her when she’s about to marry you.’

‘She doesn’t know yet. I’d hoped to be able to have a plan before I told her.’

‘Mark my words, her plan will be for that angelic-looking putto to be sent in a flash to the Foundling Hospital before anyone else notices the unmistakeable likeness to her future husband.’