Chapter 10
Despite my exhaustion, my sleep that night was not as restful as I would have liked.
I awoke several times, spurred by disjointed memories of both the previous night and my meeting with Mr. Dorian.
As such, I woke much later than usual. When I was finally dressed and ready to face the day, I found Tommy cataloguing to our housekeeper all the various insects he had found on Corfu over the years.
Mrs. Ford was doing a decent job of feigning enthusiasm until Tommy mentioned earwigs. Then she shot me a panicked look.
“Good morning!” I trilled.
“Good morning, Mrs. Harper,” she said with a grateful smile. “Tommy has just finished a plate of creamed eggs, toast, and some fruit.”
“I ate all of my breakfast, Mama,” Tommy crowed as I sat down beside him.
“Yes, he did,” Mrs. Ford said. “And what can I get for you?”
“The same would be lovely. And a pot of tea. Thank you, Mrs. Ford.”
“Oh no. Thank you,” she murmured with a wink and slipped out of the room.
I then turned to Tommy, prepared to listen to the all-too-familiar litany of creatures, but instead he surprised me: “May we go to the Natural History Museum today, Mama?”
I blinked, immediately recalling Mr. Dorian’s suggestion from yesterday. “What on earth made you think of that?” I braced myself for the answer—though, of course, there was no way he could have seen Mr. Dorian.
“My cousins were talking about it. They go all the time. Franny says there is a skeleton of an entire whale.”
“Ah,” I said with relief. “Well, I’m afraid we can’t go today since I have to visit Aunt Delia. But perhaps tomorrow?”
Tommy pouted a little, but then gave a nod. “All right. May we go to the park instead?”
“Yes. For a bit. But I must have my breakfast first, darling.”
Tommy granted this request and loped off somewhere.
Hopefully, he wasn’t planning to accost Mrs. Ford with more descriptions of insects.
As I waited for my food, I turned my gaze to the picture window that overlooked the back garden.
Another grey London sky today. And likely a chill to match.
A little sigh escaped me, as I thought longingly of our terrace on Corfu, where we ate many of our meals.
I had grown quite spoiled with the weather in Greece.
But now I resolved to appreciate the abundant sunshine and warm dry air with wild abandon when we returned, whenever that would be.
This elicited yet another sigh. When I first left, I had imagined returning before the worst of winter came to England, but the likelihood of that grew dimmer by the day.
Now, with this murder business, we might well and truly be stuck here for some time.
And if that was the case, there were things I needed to attend to, including buying Tommy and myself some more warm clothing.
Mrs. Ford returned with my breakfast a short while later. “Here you are, Mrs. Harper.”
“Thank you. This looks lovely.”
I hadn’t realized just how ravenous I was until she placed the tray before me, and I wasted no time tucking in. I had eaten several bites of egg and toast before I noticed she was still standing by the door, waiting. I tilted my head in inquiry.
“I was just wanting to make sure you are all right, Mrs. Harper.”
After I put Tommy to bed last night, I had told her a little about the murder, and she was, of course, horrified.
“Yes, thank you for asking,” I replied. “I’m well, all things considered.”
She watched me for another moment and seemed satisfied by whatever she saw. “Your aunt did say you were made of sterner stuff than most ladies.”
A surprised laugh escaped me. “Did she?”
Mrs. Ford nodded. “Oh yes. And she is an excellent judge of character.”
I responded to this with a smile. I loved Aunt Agatha dearly and appreciated everything she had done for me over the years, but she was often overbearing and quick to judge.
Frankly, I was lucky she had taken such a liking to me when I was a child.
For she had never warmed to Delia in the same manner, and there had been a stark difference in the way we were treated, though I wasn’t sure my sister was old enough at the time to notice.
“And should you need any more help with Tommy,” the housekeeper continued, “I am happy to oblige. Just as long as he doesn’t mention those foul bugs again,” she added warily.
“Thank you. That is very generous,” I said. “I do need to visit my sister this afternoon, if you don’t mind. And I will absolutely make sure Tommy does not discuss that with you anymore.”
“Yes, that is no trouble at all,” Mrs. Ford said before turning apprehensive. “Those ear … things he mentioned. Are those real?”
“Earwigs, and yes. I’m afraid so.”
“Good heavens,” she muttered under her breath. “I don’t know how you could ever live in such a place.”
“Well, it helps that they aren’t found inside. Usually,” I amended, but that was little comfort to the housekeeper. She left the room with a stricken look on her face, and I ate the rest of my breakfast alone.
Afterwards, I accompanied Tommy to the park, where we explored for nearly two hours until I had to practically force him back to the flat for luncheon.
I was chilled to the bone, and our noses and cheeks were as red as apples, but Tommy only seemed exhilarated by the bracing fresh air.
We enjoyed sandwiches and steaming bowls of soup before it was time for me to leave.
Tommy seemed unconcerned, and when I left, he was tucked up on the sofa in the parlor with an old world atlas that must have belonged to my late uncle and thus was likely very out of date.
On the way to Portman Square, I stopped in a nearby flower shop and bought a small bouquet of hothouse flowers for Delia, then took a hansom cab the rest of the way.
By the time I arrived, the bouquet had wilted a little from the cold, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was an omen for what was to come.
So now, in addition to delusional, you’ve become superstitious as well?
I silenced the snide little voice in my head as I paid the driver and ascended the stairs to my parents’ home.
I had grown so accustomed to entering the house over the last few days that I no longer felt that awkward hesitation.
Cartwright, the same footman who usually manned the door when Morris was busy elsewhere, ushered me inside.
“Are my parents in?” I asked as he took my coat.
“Mrs. Everly is out at the moment, ma’am.”
“And my father?” I prompted after a moment.
“He is …” Cartwright hesitated, as if searching for the right word. “Indisposed.”
I frowned at that description. “Is he ill?”
“Not that I am aware,” the footman said as panic flashed in his eyes.
I gathered that people didn’t come to call on only my father very often anymore. Though it was probably for the best, given his current state, the thought still made me very sad.
“I understand. Thank you.”
He gave a quick nod and disappeared with my coat, no doubt eager to leave before I could ask him any more bewildering questions.
I took my bouquet upstairs and knocked softly at my sister’s closed bedroom door. Her muffled voice responded after a moment, and I entered.
Delia was tucked up in bed with a book open on her lap, but her gaze was listless and unfocused, and I surmised she hadn’t read a word.
“Hello, darling,” I said as I shut the door behind me.
A look of surprise flickered across her face for just a moment. “Oh, hello there.”
I sat down at the edge of the bed and handed her the bouquet. “For you.”
Delia managed a faint smile as she took them from me and brought them to her nose. “Beautiful. Thank you.”
“How are you feeling?”
Delia avoided my gaze as she placed the bouquet on the bedside table. “How did you do it?” she whispered.
I tilted my head, confused. “The flowers?”
She looked at me then, her eyes suddenly bright with desperation. “Go on. After Oliver.”
I was silent for a moment as my mind flooded with a haze of disjointed memories of those awful weeks after his death.
There were times when I could barely bring myself to get out of bed, which no doubt was how Delia felt now.
And, if I was very honest with myself, I’m not sure I would have bothered if it hadn’t been for the children.
But I couldn’t tell her that. Shutting herself away would not make this any easier. That was something I had learned.
“I took things as they came,” I answered. “And sometimes I could only manage for an hour at a time. Then, eventually, I could get through the entire day.”
Delia nodded in understanding. “I’m so sorry,” she rasped.
“Whatever for?” I asked, genuinely bewildered.
“For not being more understanding about how difficult it must have been for you. And why you were so determined not to leave Corfu.” Then she hesitated. “I’m afraid we all were rather too hard on you back then. Making demands you couldn’t possibly accommodate.”
“Oh.” I wilted a little, not unlike the bouquet I had brought.
There had been times when I felt that my family hadn’t really understood the impact Oliver’s death had on me and disapproved of my decision to stay on Corfu rather than return to England.
No one had ever mentioned anything outright, of course.
But it was one thing to wonder and another to have it confirmed.
Delia reached out and took my hand in hers. She felt far too cold. “Forgive me.”
I grasped her chilled fingers. “Of course. And you were so young. How could you have possibly known?”
Her mouth flattened into a line. “I resented you for leaving. And when Oliver died, a part of me thought it was a kind of punishment. It was so awful of me. I suppose now this is my punishment,” she added quietly and hung her head.