Chapter 7
Seven
“Do come in, dear,” Aunt Antonia invited as I arrived at Sussex Square and found her at present occupied in the solar in the middle of a bamboo enclosure.
She was laid out on a bench with her hair wrapped up in a turban, cream covering her entire face, with the exception of a cucumber slice over each eye.
Such scenes were not unusual, yet always a bit startling. To find her wrapped in a bedsheet, sprawled on a woven grass bench much like a goddess. Except for the face cream and cucumber.
“So good to see you, dear,” she commented, which raised the question how she might see at all.
“What brings you here in the middle of the afternoon? Have I missed a special occasion? Oh, dear.” She started to sit up, the slices of cucumber popping out onto her lap and giving her the appearance of a ghost.
“My memory is worse each day, and without Munro here to remind me of appointments...”
I assured her there was no special occasion or appointment, yet I did want to ask her about Lady Ellsworth.
“I’ve lost one of my slices,” she lamented.
I retrieved said slice and handed it to her.
“Thank you, dear. They are quite refreshing and at my age I need a good amount of it.” She returned to her reclined position.
“Now, tell me what brings you are here. Have you perhaps had word from Lily or Munro?”
“Not since that last letter. It does seem as if she is determined to continue in her search for her family.”
“Of course, that is important.”
I explained about my meeting with Sir Anderson-Fitch earlier, my intention to meet with Lady Eugenia afterward, and the note I received in response from Sir Robert.
“I would imagine the meeting with Sir Anderson-Fitch was difficult,” she commented. “He was quite fond of the young man. Understandable.”
I admitted that he seemed quite affected by Thomas Ellsworth’s death.
“I suppose that would go back to his own youth. He was quite taken with Thomas’s mother, Catherine Mainwaring.
However, he was a student at King’s College at the time and from a minor family.
Her father arranged the marriage to Ellsworth, a much more suitable arrangement.
Family title, position, and all that rot.
“Your mother was acquainted with Catherine and quite liked her. So sad that she died shortly after the twins were born.”
“As for an episode?” my great-aunt remarked. “Rubbish! Eugenia is strong as a horse. I have never known her to have an ‘episode.’
“Sir Robert had the note delivered? I was not aware that he had returned. Although I suppose under the circumstances—young Thomas’s death—that he was compelled to return. Though somewhat surprising, as there was some acrimony there, and the reason Eugenia always favored young Thomas.
“Sir Robert’s affections were always for Anthony who was several minutes older—twins you see,” she added. “With Thomas as the extra son if anything should happen to Anthony.
“I suppose it could be the reason he decided to go his own way with his studies to become a lawyer, while Anthony went into banking. Like father, like son, they say. Little effort required there, as the family owned the bank.
“That goes back through Eugenia’s family—Crofts and Company founded by her great-grandfather.”
Crofts was a major merchant bank involved in international trade and commodities. Sir Robert travelled frequently, Aunt Antonia explained, overseeing foreign investments of the bank.
It was all most interesting and all well and good as far as it went, which now seemed to be ended with Sir Robert’s note, that I cease my inquiries.
“You must continue by all means,” Aunt Antonia insisted. “Eugenia is your client, not Sir Robert. Although I should think he would want to know the circumstances of Thomas’s death.
“I will make arrangements to call on her,” she announced, shedding both cucumber slices. “Robert has always been arrogant and full of himself. I will see what she has to say about the matter.”
I learned quite early in my life that my great-aunt could be a force to be reckoned with when she had made a decision.
My own experience had included her ‘retrieving’ me back from one of my early travels that she deemed too dangerous.
That had required Brodie’s services as her agent for said retrieval. Quite an extraordinary introduction.
As for her own family, it was said that she was wealthier than the Queen, with ancestors among the titled and nobility that included William the Conqueror some eight hundred years earlier.
A sword in the sword room belonged to him at one time, and the original fortress of Sussex Square was said to have been his residence before a royal palace was built.
There was an insignia in Latin etched into a stone over the old entrance at the wall—’Jo claim ceste terre.
’ I claim this land. And so he had. Another arrogant man.
Still, if I was to continue making inquiries on behalf of Lady Eugenia, I needed to know more.
When we first met, she had mentioned that Thomas had dined with his older brother that last night.
And while he had provided a statement for the police, it was possible there might be something more to be learned.
I had met Anthony and Thomas years before, after I returned from school in Paris, although only a brief encounter at the Queen’s Golden Jubilee celebration.
Both young men were quite handsome, with Anthony given to pranking people, pretending that he was his brother.
As I recalled one particular incident, Thomas had been embarrassed and angry over the matter.
“According to Eugenia, Anthony is quite like his father,” Aunt Antonia commented. “The apple did not fall too far from the tree, as it were. Although it is possible that Thomas’s death has affected him. They say that twins have a special bond.”
That was something to consider. As for no longer pursuing the case, I felt a certain sympathy for Lady Eugenia and her surviving grandson, Sir Anthony. Having experienced losses myself, I was aware of the pain of that loss.
“What will you do now, dear?” Aunt Antonia inquired.
In spite of Sir Robert’s note, I was not of a mind to set aside my inquiries.
“Lady Eugenia is my client, not Sir Robert,” I replied. “It certainly won’t cause any harm to continue.”
“Bravo!” Aunt Antonia exclaimed, then inquired, “With Mr. Brodie off on his new venture, how may I assist?”
That set me back a bit. Although it was not the first time she had made such a request.
I had very definite reservations in our previous inquiry cases that involved dangerous criminals, anarchists, and foreign threats. Not precisely the sort of persons I wanted her exposed to.
And there was the fact that she was now eighty-seven years old, in spite of the fact that she was quite resplendent in her lavender morning gown, reclined on the bench in the solar with her cream masque and cucumbers.
“I know very well what you are thinking, Mikaela Forsythe,” she accused as she glared through her vegetables.
“That I am an old woman, and not up to chasing about. I would remind you that I am descended from the same people as yourself. And I have been known to ‘chase about’ in my time.”
“It’s just that...” I started to explain. She held up a hand.
“I am quite capable of making inquiries on your behalf. There is not a person alive who would dare naysay me.”
“It merely concerns me...” Her hand shot up once more.
“I do appreciate your concerns, my dear. I would remind you that I am the one who first sought Mr. Brodie’s services when you needed retrieving from that island.”
“I did not need retrieving...”
“He had quite the reputation among those who knew him,” she continued. “Dangerous, some said. Mr. Munro cautioned me as well.
“Yet, he was precisely the sort who was up to the task. I was not the least intimidated or endangered calling on the man.
“Of course, we knew each other previously and I knew that I could rely upon him after that incident.”
There had been rumors of ‘that incident,’ although neither my great-aunt nor Brodie ever spoke of it. As if an agreement had been made between them to remain silent. It was undeniable that Aunt Antonia could be a force to be reckoned with.
“Ye are just like her,” Brodie had accused me more than once. “When ye canna have yer way in things, ye go around no matter wot anyone tells ye. Cut from the same piece of cloth.”
“Are you unwell, dear?” Aunt Antonia inquired as I sat beside her, my eyes closed as I sought divine guidance. However, given my history on such things, I suspected there would be none.
“I’ve sent a note round to the bank, but not yet received a response,” I replied. I had sent one immediately following my meeting with Lady Eugenia.
“Of course not, dear. Sir Anthony is very like his father, Sir Robert. Full of himself as if he were responsible for creating Crofts rather than inheriting it from Eugenia’s side of the family.
“He is also known to be quite the rake, eluding a marriage commitment much to his father’s displeasure. It is said that he prefers women of questionable status that he can send off with a couple of gold coins.
“No entanglements, no scandals. That would be unacceptable for a prestigious, private banking establishment.” She looked at me with a different expression, cunning like a fox.
“My foot! However, there is a saying about money, particularly a great deal of it...it has a way of persuading people. Sir Robert has persistently attempted to persuade me to invest in their banking enterprise.”
She came off the bench with surprising energy and reached for a towel from the nearby table.
“You shall have your meeting with Sir Anthony.”
She immediately called for a footman. He promptly appeared, and in that way that servants are expected to refrain from any reaction or comment, he maintained remarkable composure at the sight of my great-aunt with cream covering her face.