Chapter 9 #2
In the end, I was glad he had gone, of course.
It was nothing more than a moment of temporary madness, no doubt brought on by the stress of our last investigation.
Even still, as I waited there in my parents’ drawing room, doubts began to creep in until I was forced to reassure myself that I really hadn’t said anything to him.
And that there was absolutely no way he could know what I had intended that day last spring.
Now you’re being delusional in addition to absurd.
I gave myself a shake. I had lingered here long enough, and there was much to do.
For despite Mr. Dorian’s overbearing presumption, I would not simply stand aside and wait for the authorities to do their job.
It did not matter that this was London and not Corfu.
In my experience, incompetence could happen anywhere.
And while I certainly had no intention of meddling, I did intend to do everything in my power to protect my sister.
But just as I made to leave, my gaze caught on the sideboard with the photographs.
Curiosity suddenly burned through me as I approached and wondered what on earth had so interested Mr. Dorian.
I stopped and glanced over the familiar pictures.
Most of these were formal photographs of me and my siblings as children, along with Jack and Dolly’s wedding portrait.
But there was a new picture among them. I let out a surprised gasp as my hand shot forward to pick up the frame.
It was my wedding portrait. I had stuck my copy away in a drawer somewhere when I couldn’t bear to look at it after Oliver’s death.
I hadn’t seen it in years and was struck anew by Oliver’s handsome face and friendly smile—not to mention how very young we both looked. So full of hope and excitement.
We had posed for it shortly after the ceremony at a chapel in Cambridge.
None of our family were in attendance, as everything had happened rather quickly because Oliver was due back in Athens.
At the time, it had felt adventurous and exciting, but now I understood that there was an edge of callousness there as well.
Back then, I had been utterly convinced that my family wanted to be rid of me and ignored anything to the contrary.
But now I held that very evidence in my hand—framed in gold, no less.
Slowly, I put the picture back down in its place as a wave of regret washed over me.
Then I frowned and tilted my head as I studied the rest of the photographs.
I looked over them three times just to make sure, but they were all framed in varying shades of silver.
Which meant that the photograph Mr. Dorian had been studying so intently when I entered the room could only have been my wedding portrait.
I charged out of the drawing room, determined to outrun the strange swirl of emotions this realization had unearthed, and gathered my things.
Morris then appeared out of the shadows to helpfully inform me that my mother had given me permission to use the family coach, so I took it to Jack and Dolly’s house in South Kensington.
I spent the entire ride chastising myself for daring to think for even a moment that Mr. Dorian’s actions could indicate anything other than perfectly normal curiosity.
And by the time I arrived, I was certain I had embellished the entire scene to the point of absurdity.
I was promptly ushered inside by a footman who took my coat just as Dolly appeared in the entryway.
“Hello, my dear,” she said warmly as she slipped her arm through mine and led me down the hall.
“The children and I are in the parlor, while Jack is in his study, as usual.” Then, once we were safely out of earshot, she lowered her voice, and her gaze filled with sympathy.
“Your brother told me everything. What an awful business.”
“Yes, it is.”
I will admit I was a little surprised to hear that Jack had confided in Dolly. I rather expected him to keep his wife in the dark on most things, given how little time he seemed to spend in her company, but the nature of their relationship continued to mystify me.
“How is Delia?”
We paused just outside the parlor door, and I could hear the muffled sounds of the children chattering away inside.
“I’m not sure,” I said on a sigh. “Last night was a horrible shock, of course. And I haven’t seen her yet today.”
Dolly made a hum of agreement. “Jack is quite worried about her. Poor thing. And your mother too.”
We entered the room to find the children were playing some kind of card game by the hearth.
Tommy was not as thrilled to see me as I was to see him, but I suppose that was to be expected. And he certainly didn’t know about the night I had.
“I know that look,” Dolly said when Tommy immediately returned to the card game after giving me a halfhearted greeting. “Don’t take it too much to heart. They have all been having such fun together.”
I let out a little sigh as I sat down on the sofa beside her. “I am glad of that. Truly. It’s only …”
Dolly gave me an understanding smile. “He’s your little boy. And he’s growing up.”
The pang in my chest was sharp and swift. “Yes,” I murmured, watching Tommy from across the room. “He is.”
I startled a little as I felt a warm hand pressing against my arm. I met Dolly’s sympathetic gaze, and for a moment I could see myself the way she must: a sad little widow on the cusp of middle age with her two children swiftly approaching adulthood, after which she would be alone forever.
“If you ever need anyone to talk to …,” she began, but there was no need to finish the rest, and I was grateful that she seemed to sense that.
“Thank you,” I replied with a brittle smile.
Perhaps I wasn’t being fair to Dolly. Or myself, for that matter.
For I was filled with a strange kind of certainty.
An understanding that I didn’t want to be that person.
Didn’t want that version of my future. I knew all too well that there was so very much I couldn’t control about the world around me and the people I loved.
But I could still forge a different kind of life.
Find a new purpose now that my children were growing older.
“And you know,” Dolly went on as she leaned towards me conspiratorially. “I was about your age when I had Franny. Then John came along as well. Our happy little accident,” she added with a chuckle.
This was quite different from the scenario I had begun to imagine for myself, but Dolly mistook my surprise for encouragement and continued: “It is the perfect opportunity to find someone now that you are back here. Why, I can’t imagine there are very many eligible men on Corfu.
And I can think of several gentleman who would happily take on a widow, even one with children—”
“Thank you, Dolly,” I said with a tight smile. “That is very kind of you, but I am not interested in being courted at the moment.”
That was putting it mildly. In truth, I had absolutely no desire to be taken on by anyone. Least of all a man who thought he was doing me a great favor by marrying me. No, that didn’t interest me at all.
Dolly nodded. “Of course. But do let me know when you are.”
“I will,” I said graciously, while thinking to myself never.
We chatted amiably about other more mundane topics while the children finished their game. “Are you sure you can’t stay for tea?” Dolly asked.
“Not today, I’m afraid. Besides, I think I’ve imposed on you enough,” I said with a glance at Tommy.
“Oh, heavens. Don’t worry about that. He is welcome here anytime,” Dolly replied.
“I appreciate that,” I said, and meant every word.
Then I gathered my reluctant son and we said our goodbyes, while Franny and John extracted several promises from me that we would visit again very soon.
Tommy and I then left the room, and as we headed towards the front door, he told me every little detail about his visit. It was soothing, listening to him chatter away about inconsequential details. So much so that I didn’t notice Jack descending the main staircase just as we were passing by.
“There you are, Minnie,” he said. “Glad I caught you.”
He made it sound as if I were trying to sneak off, never mind the fact that I had been here for nearly three-quarters of an hour. “Give us a moment, will you, Thomas?”
I prickled a little at that. Firstly, because no one called him Thomas, and secondly, because Jack hadn’t bothered to ask if I wanted to speak with him. But Tommy looked entirely unbothered and loped off down the hall, likely returning to the parlor.
I let out a sigh, knowing that our exit would be delayed even more, and turned to Jack. “What is it?”
But he was still watching Tommy. “Does Harold know you’re in town?”
“No,” I said pointedly.
That was Oliver’s older brother, the viscount.
Tommy was currently his heir, though I still held out hope that Harold Harper, Viscount Mandeville, would have a boy after fathering four girls.
After Oliver’s death, the viscount took issue with my decision to stay on Corfu—or rather, my decision to keep Tommy on Corfu—and tried to bully me into sending him back to England for schooling.
Things had taken an ugly turn, and I had to involve a lawyer.
But Oliver’s will was very clear, and the viscount had no legal standing.
Eventually, I allowed him to write to Tommy, but there had been no communication between us since.
And I had every intention of keeping it that way.
Jack frowned. “If he finds out you’re here and didn’t tell him, he’ll be very cross.”
“Well, I can’t imagine why he would, unless someone goes out of their way to inform him,” I snapped.
“Minnie,” Jack warned, “you can’t keep them apart forever. And there are things the boy should know about for when he inherits—”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I said stubbornly. “And you know it isn’t certain anyway.”
Jack let out a dry laugh. “Given that Harold is nearly fifty and his wife is not much younger, I’d say it is all but guaranteed that Thomas will become the next viscount.” Then his gaze softened ever so slightly. “Is that really such a bad thing?”
I glanced away. “Oliver thought so.”
Jack sighed. “They had a difficult relationship. But that doesn’t mean you need to as well.”
I whipped my head back, outraged. “He tried to take my son from me,” I growled.
“Only so he could go to school here. And be around his peers.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly. It was useless trying to argue with Jack about this.
We simply had very different ideas of how the world should work.
I didn’t want Tommy surrounded by lazy, overprivileged boys.
Oliver had been adamant about that. We wanted our children to have a different upbringing than our own.
That was why we had moved to Corfu in the first place.
And why Oliver made me promise to stay there, or so I had thought.
I opened my eyes and found Jack staring at me in concern. “I’m not trying to upset you, Minnie.”
“I’m not upset,” I said quickly. “I just don’t want to discuss this. I’ve made my decision. Now then, I trust that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about.”
Jack looked reluctant to move on, but relented. “No. I wanted to tell you that I have instructed my solicitor to look into Detective Inspector Dorian.”
“Why?” That was not at all what I expected.
My brother huffed in exasperation. “Because if he doesn’t do his job and tries to pin this murder on Delia, we need to be prepared.”
I shook my head slowly. “Are you suggesting you’re gathering evidence to use against him?
Jack’s mouth tightened. “Only if necessary.”
I may not have complete faith in the authorities, but I still found this rather appalling.
“That’s—”
“How things are done here,” he said sternly.
I scoffed at this rather convenient justification, then another thought occurred to me. “Are you having someone look into the murder as well?” My brother shrugged in answer. “I can’t believe you!” I hissed. “And after all that rot you said about not wanting me to be involved!”
“Well, I don’t,” he insisted. “Because it isn’t safe. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and twiddle my thumbs while some upstart detective from Hackney tries to blame a murder on my sister.”
The Dorians were from Hackney? I couldn’t ignore my interest in this bit of information Then I shook my head. Now was not the time. “That isn’t remotely the case.”
“Not yet,” he corrected. “And as I said, we will only act if necessary. Though I expect we will find something worth ensuring his cooperation, especially if he’s anything like his brother,” he added.
I pressed my lips together. Mr. Dorian’s divorce last year had been the subject of intense speculation and gossip. That scrutiny had been a large part of why he had fled to Corfu in the first place. Luckily, Jack didn’t seem to know of our connection. At least for now.
“Well, I do not support this at all,” I said primly.
“I think you will if things take a turn. But what I said this morning still stands. You aren’t to involve yourself. Besides, Delia needs you.”
On that we agreed, at least.
“I know,” I said softly. “I will visit her tomorrow.”
Jack gave a distracted nod. For once, I didn’t want to know at all what he was thinking about. “Good. I will keep you informed of any developments. And I made sure Scotland Yard knows to go through my solicitor first if they want anything from you.”
“Thank you.” It was, admittedly, a relief to know I couldn’t be brought in for additional questioning without any notice. That would be a very difficult scenario to explain to Tommy.
“Of course.” Jack then gave me a short nod in good-bye and headed down the hall.
For a brief moment, I rather envied the cozy scene that awaited him: the children and Dolly all gathered around the warm hearth with a full staff waiting at the ready to supply their every desire.
Then I turned away sharply. “Tommy?” I called out. “It is time for us to go.”