February 4, 1889 Evening
Mira’s ears were still hot as Mr. Renaldi regaled the table with a story she was certain she had heard before.
She stirred her soup a little, trying not to think about how terribly she had ruined her first meeting with Byron’s mother.
Byron sat across from her, out of discreet earshot due to the Renaldi’s ridiculous adherence to the old traditions.
Mira never understood why it was necessary for the gentlemen to sit by a different lady from the one he accompanied to the table.
Georges had been assigned to sit with and attend her.
He’d never been to a dinner party before and she could feel the nervousness rolling off him.
Mira had already helped him to avoid humiliation in choosing which utensils to use.
Walker sat on Mira’s other side, and since he was assigned to sit with the notorious chaperone, Aunt Eleanor, he wasn’t faring any better.
Byron and Liza seemed to be getting along alright, and her aunt and uncle were doing swimmingly with Mr. and Mrs. Renaldi, respectively.
All in all, the party was turning out to be a success.
Mrs. Renaldi would have to be congratulated.
Not too much, of course, lest she think it an insincere compliment.
Regardless of the triumph of the seating arrangements, it meant that Mira hadn’t had a moment to talk with Byron about her impropriety that afternoon, what they were going to do about it, and why his family had been there in the first place, let alone discuss Selene’s letter.
He kept sending her glances across the table and every time their eyes met her embarrassment resurfaced.
“I can’t believe it myself,” Cyrus said. The conversation had moved on without her noticing. Her uncle continued, “Why would a crown prince take his own life, I ask you?”
“And his mistress as well,” Mr. Renaldi said. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that it was a political assassination.”
“Yes, but then why cover it up by saying it was suicide?” Mrs. Renaldi asked.
“We don’t have all the facts, yet,” Byron said. “It’s been less than a week.”
“Do we know who is next in line?” Liza asked.
“Archduke Karl Ludwig,” Cyrus said. “The emperor’s brother. And then his son, I think. Franz Ferdinand.”
“The whole business is dreadful,” Loretta said. “His poor mother.”
The servants took the soup away and Mira adjusted the napkin in her lap. Once the main course was out, the conversation shifted towards a pleasanter topic: the move.
“It must be quite the change to be in London,” Mr. Renaldi said, gesturing to Loretta. “How long did you say you lived in Paris?”
“Almost thirty years,” Loretta said. “And yes, it is strange. I haven’t been to London since I was a girl.”
“How are the children adjusting?” Mrs. Renaldi asked.
Loretta glanced at Georges, who stiffened a little. She said, “We only arrived the day before yesterday. I’m sure it will take some time for everyone to settle.”
Mr. Renaldi turned to Cyrus. “Did any of the staff come with you?”
Cyrus coughed a little. “No. There was no need.”
“Not even the governess?” Aunt Eleanor asked.
“Yes, your youngest must be devastated,” Mrs. Renaldi said, cutting a bit of roast duck.
It seemed the Renaldis were under a false impression about how the Lavignes lived before Cyrus and Loretta were married.
Loretta frowned. “We didn’t have a governess.”
Aunt Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “That is quite unusual. How did you manage their education?”
Loretta shifted in her seat a little. “After their father died, we had to put the children’s education on hold for a while. I intend to remedy that as soon as possible.” She picked up her glass. “Do you have any recommendations on where to find suitable tutors and a governess?”
Aunt Eleanor straightened, lifting her chin.
“Whatever you do, do not put it out in a common advertisement. You shall have all sorts if you do it that way. No, for a governess you shall want to go to the Governesses’ Benevolent Institution.
And for a tutor, you shall want to speak with Mr. LeFranc at the Tipton Educational Agency.
And make sure that the man he sends has been to university. Although, how old is your boy?”
“Just fifteen,” Loretta said.
“Then you can avoid the whole unpleasantness by sending him to boarding school. Eton is good. As is Sevenoaks.” Eleanor turned to Walker. “Didn’t you go to Sevenoaks?”
“No, I went to Brighton.”
“Oh, no.” Loretta shook her head. “I don’t think I could. I’d much rather have my children at home.”
Mrs. Renaldi tipped her head to the side. “I can understand the sentiment. I felt the same about Liza. But, then there is the difficulty of room and board for the tutor. As well as the governess.”
Loretta looked at Cyrus. “I hadn’t considered that.”
Walker leaned over to Mira and whispered, “I don’t think the house could take another person, let alone two.”
Mira nodded. Even if she shared her room with Clarisse, that would only leave one extra room in the house.
Perhaps Georges would go off to an apprenticeship or university and then Jean-Marie could share with Walker.
It would be rather close quarters though.
Like sardines packed on top of one another.
“What about Spenston?” Byron said, dabbing his mouth.
The entire party turned to look at him.
Cyrus took a moment to chew and swallow before speaking. “What?”
Byron said, “Sutherland’s estate. There would be more than enough room there. It is yours, isn’t it?”
“Why . . . yes. It is.” Cyrus frowned.
“You have an estate?” Loretta said.
Cyrus cleared his throat. “Spenston Park. It belonged to my late business partner. When he died, the property came to me. I intended to sell it, but with everything, well, it quite slipped my mind.”
“I didn’t realize memory loss was catching,” Byron said, a twinkle in his eye.
Walker barked out a laugh, nearly spilling his wine, and got a harsh look from the dreaded Aunt Eleanor.
***
After dinner, the party adjourned to the parlor for further discussion and cards.
The married couples, Aunt Eleanor, and Georges sat near the hearth, discussing the best way to go about setting up Spenston Park, how long it would take, and other particulars.
That left the courting couples to play whist in the corner of the room and allowed them to finally speak freely amongst themselves.
“Good show on remembering Spenston,” Walker said, turning over a card to determine the next trump suit. Spades. “If you hadn’t said anything, we’d be looking at a good few months rammed to the rafters at Swan Walk. At least, until Uncle stumbled across the deed again when reorganizing his papers.”
“It’s a new experience for me,” Byron said. “Remembering.”
Mira smiled, shaking her head at her detective and he caught her gaze, expression softening.
“How does someone forget that they have an estate anyway? If I had inherited something like that, I feel I wouldn’t forget it so easily,” Liza said.
“He didn’t have enough time to get used to the idea of having an estate. And there have been more pressing things,” Walker said, glancing at Mira. “Then he was in Paris for almost three months.”
Liza tipped her head, playing her turn. “I do hate to think that you’ll have to leave London. Especially as you’ve just returned.”
“Well, there’s no reason that I couldn’t stay at Swan Walk once the family has moved down,” Walker said. “I’ll still be helping Uncle with the business. It would be good to have someone here in London to keep an eye on things.”
Mira splayed the cards out in her hand. Diamonds and clubs, none of them higher than a nine. “I’d rather stay in London as well. Although, just imagining the arguments to be had with Uncle makes my head hurt.”
“I’m sure we could come to some arrangement,” Walker said.
“Well, I’ll have at least a month to persuade him, until the household is fully established at Spenston.”
Walker groaned. “A month of overcrowding. Do you think we can bear it?”
Mira rolled her eyes. “A month is not that long.”
Liza dropped the king of spades, taking the trick and turning over the three of hearts. “How many rounds left, do you think?” she said, surveying the deck, then placing a nine of spades to start the round.
“Two, I’d say. And I must apologize,” Walker said, placing the jack of spades over Liza’s nine. “But I believe I’ve taken this trick already.”
Mira sighed, setting the two of diamonds on the pile. She had the most rotten luck. No hearts or spades.
Byron drummed his fingers on his leg and Mira wondered if he was determining his next move or his next sentence.
Walker filled the pause. “Speaking of forgetting, I meant to ask why you ran out so mysteriously earlier today, Mira.”
Her stomach dropped. “Yes. Well. I had a letter that . . . well, I wasn’t thinking.” She turned to Byron. “If I had known that your family was visiting I never—”
Walker’s mouth dropped. “Your family was there?”
“Unfortunately. And I believe you spoke too soon.” With a flick of his fingers, Byron showed the ace of hearts and took the trick, turning to Mira. “There was no way you could have known. Their arrival was unexpected for me too.”
“Do they visit often?” Liza asked, considering her cards.
“Not as a rule. Not since my memory has improved, at any rate. In this instance, they came round because they have a case for me.”
“They do?” Mira’s curiosity overtook her unease. “It’s not for Her Majesty again, is it?”
“Heavens, no. Otherwise, Castel would have come alone. No, my mother and sister have been staying in Bath since Christmas. There have been a series of thefts in the area, and they became the latest victims last week. Several pieces of the family inheritance taken.”
“Such as?” Walker asked, placing the six of clubs.
“My great aunt’s bracelet, my grandmother’s ring, and a necklace that’s been handed down since the reign of Charles the II.”
“Is that all?” Liza said with an incredulous laugh.