Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
He’d found them on the return journey from Appleblossoms Bakers and informed them that Mungo’s brother had arrived suddenly with the news that his daughter had gone missing. This caused a stir with everyone in their small party, as they had never met any members of Mungo’s family.
“Quick, I hear raised voices,” Matilda said, ducking under Eliza’s arm as she hung the coats on the hook. “We need to find out how we can help.”
“I don’t think—”
They fled before she could finish the sentence, with Mrs. Fletcher herding them to the parlor from behind. Eliza hesitated, unsure of her next move.
Mungo had found her in Nicholson’s Book Shop, weeping over the book her father had read to her every night as a child. She’d loved that time she’d spent with him, just the two of them examining every word and picture on the pages.
Eliza’s mother used to tease them about their nightly ritual, but it had been something she’d treasured. Then he was gone, and she’d never seen that book again until today. When she’d found it there before her on that shelf, the tears she hadn’t shed for her father in many years had come.
Mungo had been the one to find her, and she knew he thought her silly, but she didn’t care. The man was ill-mannered, but then he’d handed her a handkerchief, and she’d wanted to cry harder. Damn him.
And now, lessons were clearly going to be delayed even further today.
Eliza entered the kitchen and found Mr. Greedy in there with Mr. Dumple.
“Have you heard the news?” Mr. Greedy said. “Seems our Mungo’s brother has turned up. Been many a year since they’ve seen each other, and now they’ll need to work together to find that poor niece who is missing.”
“I’m sure they will.” Eliza didn’t comment on the fact that the news was fresh, and it was unlikely Mungo wished for people to be discussing it. She knew what Crabbett Close was like. The locals were wonderful, but fierce gossips, and nothing was kept a secret.
“When did he last see his brother?” Eliza took a biscuit from the plate Bud held out. One bite told her it would be her new favorite flavor, like most of the things created in this kitchen.
“Not in many years, I believe,” Bud said.
“Mungo left home when he was just a young lad. He and Bramstone traveled the world together,” Mr. Greedy said, as if he were in Mungo’s confidence, which he in no way was. In fact, she doubted anyone, but perhaps Bramstone Nightingale, could truly claim that.
The door to the kitchen opened, and Theo appeared. “Miss Downing, your presence is required in the parlor also.”
“I—pardon?”
“My uncle wishes you to come to the parlor.” Theo held the door open. “He says it’s urgent, Miss Downing.”
Eliza shot Bud a look, but the woman simply waved for her to follow Theo.
Brushing down her skirts, she left the kitchen. The hum of voices grew louder as they reached the parlor.
Eliza walked in before Theo and found many of the family there. Her eyes went to Bram, who smiled at her reassuringly, and then found Mungo, who looked ready to commit murder.
“Miss Downing, I’d like you to meet Mungo’s brother, Mr. Fraser.”
She dropped into a curtsey. He looked nothing like his brother. He was elegant and had a polite smile. Mungo always looked a little wild and grumpy.
“Good day to you.”
“As you probably already know, Mr. Fraser’s daughter has gone missing here in London, and we are going to find her, but I wanted to ask you something,” Bramstone said.
“Of course.”
“You are with the Holton Agency, and the maid who has disappeared with Fenella, Mr. Fraser’s daughter, was also with them. Can you tell us anything about the agency that may aid our search, Miss Downing?” Bramstone asked.
She noted Detective Fletcher had arrived and was taking notes, and everyone else looked somber.
“I have been with Holton’s for two years,” Eliza said. “They are professional, and I have never had any trouble with them.”
She would not be telling them that she was at present in Mrs. Holton’s bad graces as Eliza doubted that was relevant.
“Do you recognize the name Polly Watts?”
“I don’t, no.”
“Do you know any of the other women who were looking for work through Holton’s, Miss Downing?” Detective Fletcher asked.
“A few. We visit a tea shop sometimes. It’s a place where many who were with Holton’s go upon occasion to discuss things. Also, the person I shared a room with before coming here is with them.”
“Do you discuss things like how terrible your employers and their obnoxious children are?” Alexander Nightingale asked.
“God, can you imagine looking after Lady Alvermash’s brats?” Mrs. Fletcher shuddered.
“What was the name of this tea shop, Miss Downing?” Detective Fletcher asked after shooting his wife a look through narrowed eyes.
“I’m unsure of the name, but I could find it again if you need me to,” Eliza said.
She felt everyone’s eyes on her as she talked, and she desperately wanted to give them something that may help them find the missing girl. Eliza could feel the despair coming off Calder Fraser in heavy waves. She’d lost people she loved once, and it had changed her irrevocably.
“Is there anything else you can tell us about the agency?” the detective pressed Eliza.
“Heather Blackwell told me they dismissed her from their books, and the only reason she could come up with is that she’s engaged.”
“They are very thorough in their vetting process.”
“And this bothers you because?” Detective Fletcher asked.
She had no wish to be disparaging about the agency, but she also needed to be truthful. However, she wasn’t sure what any of this would have to do with the missing girls.
“Nothing needs to leave this room, Miss Downing, but we would appreciate any information you can give us,” Bramstone Nightingale said.
“Mrs. Holton asks many personal questions, which I’m sure most agencies do.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Like do we have family or a husband or beau,” Eliza said.
“That’s a bit too personal, surely?” Mrs. Fletcher said.
“Sylvie, my friend, told me that Heather, another Holton girl, was recently taken off their books and the only reason she was given was that she’d become recently engaged.”
Detective Fletcher scribbled that down in his little book. “Anything else?”
“They are a highly respected agency, and the Holton girls are sent around Europe,” Eliza said.
“Thank you, Miss Downing. If you remember anything else, please let me know,” Detective Fletcher said.
“She was injured,” Mungo said suddenly.
“Pardon?” Calder Fraser said.
“Polly. I commented on the fact that her face was bruised and her lip swollen. She told me she’d fallen down the stairs, but one look at Fenella told me she didn’t believe that was the case, just as I didn’t,” Mungo said.
His eyes were focused on Eliza, but she didn’t think he was really seeing her.
“When was this?” Bramstone asked.
“The last time I saw Fenella was at the tea shop we always met at. I had a gift for her and was—”
“A necklace?” Lord Seddon demanded. “A flower?”
“Aye, a Scottish primrose.”
Lord Seddon stared at the Scotsman. “I’ve been trying to find a necklace for days, Mungo, and fighting the urge to locate it. Now it seems I must.”
Clairvoyants. Eliza remembered again what they’d told her earlier. Also that Lord Seddon had asked about the necklace when they’d been at the rotunda.
“I don’t understand why you are asking about a necklace. What does this have to do with my daughter?” Mr. Fraser demanded.
“Don’t raise your voice to him,” Mungo snapped.
“I did not raise my voice, brother, I asked a question.”
The word “brother” struck the air like a blow. Eliza saw it land and watched Mungo brace against it. His shoulders went rigid, his jaw clenched, and something flickered behind his eyes. Pain. Anger. Old wounds.
“I will not have you speak to any of these people who have become my family with anything but respect,” Mungo said, softer but more dangerous now.
Calder stared back at him, the polite mask he’d arrived with now cracking at the edges. “I am not here to quarrel with you, Mungo. God knows we’ve had enough of that in our past.”
Mungo laughed, a hard, humorless sound. “Aye. Fighting’s always been the one thing we did well together.”
His accent had thickened with emotion, roughened and raw. The room shifted, everyone instinctively pulling back, giving them space as if the air between them was about to ignite.
“That is not fair,” Calder said quietly. “We were brothers in every way once.”
“Fair?” Mungo’s brows shot up. “You want fair now? After all this time?”
Eliza felt her stomach tighten. She shouldn’t be here for this. None of them should. But no one moved.
Calder looked away first, clasping his hands behind his back, and the fury in Mungo’s face shifted into something else as he studied his brother and saw how he suffered. Saw the pain of a father who couldn’t find his child.
“Now is not the time for what lays between you to be bared. Later you can talk, but now we must find Fenella,” Detective Fletcher said, his voice calm and yet commanding, qualities she was sure he needed in his occupation.
“Agreed,” Bramstone said. “You’ll both sit, and we’ll discuss this rationally, as well as what is to be done. Leave the rest for later.”
Both Frasers gave a single nod but added nothing further. However, Eliza could feel the tension between them in every corner of the room. Knew they chafed at the wait to get out there and walk the streets to find Fenella. She prayed the girl was all right.
“We’re clairvoyants,” Lord Seddon said suddenly. “Sorry if that shocks you, Calder, but there is no time for anything but the truth now.”
Calder Fraser did not appear shocked as his eyes moved around the room, stopping on every person he met. In fact, he looked relieved, which Eliza found odd.
“We have something in common, then,” he said.
“No,” Mungo said. The brothers stared at each other for long heated minutes and then Calder nodded.
“In common?” Detective Fletcher asked.
“’Tis nothing,” Mungo said.
“Oh, there is definitely something,” Lord Seddon added.
“It matters not. What matters is finding my daughter,” Calder Fraser said as he fell into a seat as if his legs could no longer hold him upright. “I cannot sit here and drink tea while she is God knows where.”
“We will find her,” Mungo vowed, moving to the side table. He then poured a nip of whiskey and returned to hold it out to his brother. “You’ll drink this now.”
“Mungo Senior is trying to tell me something,” Alex said suddenly. “Do either of you”—he pointed from Calder to Mungo—“have anything that belonged to him on you?”
“And anything that belonged to Fenella?” Mrs. Fletcher added.
Calder Fraser dug in his pocket. He pulled out a small square of paper.
“My daughter wrote me this poem many years ago. I have carried it with me since.” He handed it to Mrs. Fletcher, and Eliza saw the faded pages were worn along the folds.
“I’ll return shortly,” Mungo said, leaving the room abruptly.
Eliza wondered where he had gone but did not have long to wait before he returned. In one hand, he held a long strip of leather that one would wear around the neck, a wide silver band hung from it—a ring.
She couldn’t make out the details clearly from her position several feet from Mungo, but saw that it was engraved.
“Tea, Miss Downing?”
Never take tea with members of the household in any setting, unless directed.
“Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher, but I will return to my duties.” She should have done that as soon as she’d finished giving them the information they requested. Mrs. Holton would be most displeased.
“I would like you to stay for the moment, if you please,” Detective Fletcher said.
Eliza wanted to ask why but knew it was not her place to question the man.
“This was my grandfather’s,” Mungo said.
“I wondered if you still had that, as it wasn’t on your finger,” Calder said to his brother.
“You think I’d sell it?”
“No, never that. I thought maybe you had lost it.”
Mungo didn’t acknowledge his brother’s reply, just dropped it into the outstretched hand. His eyes then found Eliza’s briefly before he looked away.