Chapter 1 #2
She had traveled extensively as a young woman—no doubt where I had acquired my adventuresome spirit—and was satisfied with Admiral Nelson, so named after Viscount Nelson, a long-standing family acquaintance.
“Here you are, dear,” she greeted me. “So good of you to join us.”
Her guest slowly turned to acknowledge my arrival as well. She was dressed all in black, obviously for mourning, with a black veil on her hat open to reveal the grey hair at her temples. Her face was heavily lined, no doubt with grief at a recent family loss.
Though it had been some time since we had last encountered one another at one of my great-aunt’s holiday parties, and in spite of the stark mourning clothes she wore, I immediately recognized Lady Eugenia Ellsworth, Viscountess de Lacey.
Her grandson had tragically died the month before, the victim of a brutal assault according to the Daily.
Due to Lady Ellsworth’s prominence, the funeral had been well attended and included my great-aunt due to their long-standing friendship, even though Aunt Antonia had her own thoughts about such things.
She was determined to go off in a Viking longboat when the time came, fire and all.
Rather than spend eternity ‘rotting in the ground or some stone crypt.’
Lady Ellsworth obviously continued to deeply grieve that loss of a young man tragically murdered in the prime of life.
There were some who never emerged from the two-year mourning period after a death. Queen Victoria came to mind as I crossed the solar and greeted my aunt with a kiss on the cheek, then turned to Lady Ellsworth.
I knew Viscount Thomas Ellsworth but had not attended the funeral, as Brodie and I were in the north of Scotland at the time. I expressed my condolences now.
She nodded with a sad smile, yet the blue gaze that met mine was sharp and direct.
“I spoke of your joining me earlier, and Lady Ellsworth asked to join us as well,” Aunt Antonia explained.
“I hope you do not object,” Lady Eugenia said.
I assured her that I did not, though I was somewhat perplexed what the reason might be.
“Brodie was not able to accompany you?” my great-aunt inquired.
“He had an appointment that took him elsewhere,” I replied with no need to go into details.
The parlor maid arrived with more coffee and a pot of tea, along with cakes, and set them on the table, where I joined my great-aunt and Lady Eugenia.
Aunt Antonia asked Lucy to close the doors of the solar behind her and waited until she left.
“There,” she commented with a smile at her friend. “We may speak freely now.”
The usual pleasantries followed, which included my somewhat distant acquaintance with those in her family, including her grandsons—Anthony and Thomas, twins who were of about the same age as myself.
I had not known them well, even though we were of the same social circle, as I had been off on my adventures.
As for Lady Eugenia, we had met several times when my great-aunt hosted one of her ladies’ garden parties or soirees. She had always seemed to be a very strong, forthright person who reminded me of my great-aunt in many ways. It perhaps explained their friendship.
The woman who had joined Aunt Antonia this morning seemed no different in spite of the tragic death of Thomas Ellsworth the month before.
He was the younger of the twins, by only a few minutes, the ‘bonus grandson,’ as Aunt Antonia called him, born after his mother had previously lost two infants shortly after birth.
Particularly after those earlier losses, in that way that titled families considered the importance of future heirs, titles, and wealth to be passed on.
Still, to be labeled ‘bonus,’ as the younger Prince Edward was if the Prince of Wales had not had children, seemed impersonal and demeaning, as if one’s worth was their place in the birth order.
In my own family, I was painfully aware that a son was hoped for, which would have left my sister and me to make advantageous marriages. However, that did not happen. When our mother died in childbirth, the long-hoped-for son died with her as well.
As it was, our father squandered any inheritance my sister and I might have received with his gambling and poor business decisions. Unable to confront his mistakes, he had taken his own life.
I was eight years old when I found him in the stables, blood soaking the ground beneath his head. If not for our great-aunt, we might have been cast out into the street. She became our somewhat ‘eccentric’ family, where it did not matter who was oldest or who might inherit after she was gone.
My sister and I, vastly different in our many ways, adored her for those eccentricities that included that Viking longboat. If given the opportunity, I would not have traded the experience.
“I am most pleased to meet you, Lady Forsythe,” Lady Eugenia began as Aunt Antonia poured coffee for us and then handed me a cup.
“Antonia was good enough to include me this morning when I spoke to her about a difficult matter. I do hope you will be able to assist.”
She seemed to physically gather herself, first with a deep breath, then as she set her cup back on the table and tightly clasped her hands together.
“You are no doubt aware of the tragic incident my family has recently suffered.”
I expressed my sympathies. “My husband and I were in Scotland at the time.”
She nodded. “Please understand that this is most difficult. Still, I asked to meet with you as I have need of your inquiry services.”
I exchanged a look with Aunt Antonia. Her somewhat surprised expression indicated that she was not privy to the reason before my arrival.
“What is the nature of the matter?” I inquired.
I thought of the usual inquiries our services were requested for among those of the classes—stolen money or a brooch that a servant might have lifted.
Occasionally our cases ventured into the area of blackmail, extortion, a disappearance as in my sister’s case years before. And then there were the murder cases.
There was that look once more between Lady Eugenia and Aunt Antonia before she continued.
“You must understand that I do not lightly ask you to undertake this, and it must be done with absolute discretion and secrecy.”
Discretion, secrecy? Most curious.
She looked at me directly. Once again I saw strength and determination in the expression on her face.
“I want you to find my grandson’s murderer.”