Page 18 of A Family Of His Own
He paused, then continued, “We have a small window of opportunity to get cleanly away, without anyone—the Prussians or any other interested group—seeing which way we go. We need to seize that chance. Especially if we’re to take the children with us, we need to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
Diana stared at Toby and wished she could argue, but having seen the Prussian pair in action, she couldn’t. Her instincts were urging her to flee—to take the packet, the children, and go.
Again, she felt as if she was being swept up and along by the tide of events.
“But”—plainly confused, Adrian looked from her to Toby—“you haven’t yet found the dispatches, have you?”
“Ah. Actually, I hope we have.” Briefly, she explained what she, with Toby’s help, had realized. “So we think Rupert the Bear is where Papa hid the packet.”
Adrian blinked at her. “The bear you gave Evelyn? The one she carries everywhere?”
Ruefully, Diana nodded. “I didn’t realize anything was inside, and I didn’t mention to Papa that I’d given the bear to Evelyn.”
“Good Lord.” Adrian looked stunned anew.
Toby stirred. “Before we go further, we should verify that the dispatches are, in fact, inside the bear.”
Adrian frowned, but nodded. “Yes, of course.”
Diana offered to go upstairs and fetch the bear, but Adrian insisted on going with her. Understanding that he was feeling extra protective of Evelyn and especially given he was approaching the hour when he would see his small daughter for the last time, Diana didn’t have the heart to argue.
She followed him from the room, and without saying a word, Toby brought up the rear as they slowly climbed the stairs. Adrian slowed on the landing. From his poor color, he was plainly finding the exertion difficult. Before Diana could offer her arm, Toby stepped up and steadied Adrian.
Adrian thanked him with a wan smile, and they continued more slowly up the second flight.
On reaching the gallery, Adrian seemed to get a second wind. He led the way to Evelyn’s room, but after opening the door and looking at the small figure curled beneath the blankets, illuminated by the night-light left burning on her dresser, he leant against the doorjamb and waved Diana to the bed.
She slipped past him and crossed the room on silent feet. As she’d expected, Rupert lay tumbled beside Evelyn under the covers. Diana knew Evelyn slept soundly. Gently, she raised the blanket just enough to ease the bear away from the little girl’s side and lift him out of the bed.
Toby saw Diana straighten. She held up a good-sized knitted bear and examined it for signs of an enclosure.
Plainly still uncertain, she crossed to the night-light on the dresser close by the door.
He and Fellows watched as she studied the stitching along the bear’s spine.
Her expression cleared. She looked up, then carried the bear to where they waited.
She waved them back and closed the door behind her. Once it was shut, she whispered, “There’s a good stretch of new stitching, and I’m certain those stitches are Papa’s work.”
Toby reached for the bear, and she allowed him to take it. The bear was well stuffed, but Toby’s hands were much stronger than a child’s. He squeezed the bear’s torso and could feel the stiffness of folded papers. When he eased his hold, they heard a faint crackle.
He met Diana’s eyes, then Fellows’s. “It seems the packet is in there, but we need to be sure it’s what we think it is.”
Fellows tipped his head downstairs. “Let’s go to the kitchen. The light will be much brighter, and Diana can do the honors there.”
Diana took the bear and led the way. Toby followed with Fellows, keeping pace with the ailing man, ready to lend an arm if needed.
Their progress was slow, punctuated by several pauses for Fellows to gather his strength. Eventually, they reached the kitchen at the rear of the ground floor. Diana had set the lights blazing, and they walked in to find her at the central table, re-examining the bear’s spine.
Fellows fell into the nearest chair, at the end of the table. He’d grown paler, but his expression remained resolute, and of his mental acuity, Toby harbored no doubt.
He halted beside Fellows.
After one glance their way, Diana raised a pair of shears and focused on the bear’s back.
For a second, she hesitated, the point of the shears hovering over the bear’s spine, and in a flash of insight, Toby understood that she’d realized this would be the last time she saw her father’s stitching—that she would have removed his stitches at other times, with human patients, and never would again—then her chin firmed, her grip on the shears tightened, and she applied the tip of the blades to the tiny stitches.
She snipped down from the bear’s nape until a six-inch-long section gaped open. She laid aside the shears and, with the fingers of both hands, parted the wadding filling the bear’s body, then wriggled her fingers deeper until she could grasp and draw out the package hidden within the bear.
