Chapter 7
Seven
Agnes pulled the black veil over her face.
Most people would frown at her being out so soon after Richard’s death, but she needed this.
The walk to Nora’s confectionary shop on Blake Street took no longer than five minutes, but she relished the vitality of the city streets.
It wasn’t until she had escaped from its grasp that she was aware of how the weight of death plagued her home.
The bell over the door rang, marking her entrance, and a rush of chocolate and sugar filled her nose. While the earthy smell of her apothecary was without question her favorite scent in this world, this was a close second.
“Agnes! You’re here! I was not certain you’d be able to venture out today, but I thought a good friend would continue to send invitations. Louisa is in the back. I’ll join you as soon as I finish with these lovely patrons of mine.”
Nora flashed a smile to a family that had walked in behind Agnes. Two children with expressive eyes and noses up in the air reveled in the magic that was chocolate. A portion of Nora’s customers came for another type of magic as well.
Skirting past the counter, Agnes pushed through the door on the back wall of the shop.
The sight of the cozy room that had become one of her other sanctuaries welcomed her return.
Inside was a sitting area decorated in purple, just like everything in the shop, and a desk in another corner where Nora and her husband handled the shop’s affairs.
Louisa, Nora, and Agnes had met here weekly, and sometimes more often than that, until Richard’s passing.
Over the recent weeks, she had missed these social calls.
Wallowing first in grief and then in fear of an uncertain future, she had decided enough was enough.
She committed herself to emerging from her home, even if it was just to experience the bleakness that was her life in a new setting.
Lowering herself down next to Louisa on the settee, Agnes glanced at the violet velvet chair across from her. It had been Edith’s chair before she, too, had left this world, and it had remained empty ever since. No one ever dared to take her place.
Edith’s absence had become less drowning in the six years following her death. Some days, Agnes was certain she heard Edith’s whispers of reassurance or felt a hand on her shoulder.
She turned to Louisa and kissed the sleeping babe her friend held in her arms. Out of habit, Agnes scanned Louisa’s face for new bruises.
None today, fortunately. Oftentimes, she mixed salves with arnica and calendula to help with the swelling and fade the marks left by Louisa’s husband.
Agnes hoped that this meant Herman had refrained from his typical vices as of late, but it was also possible he had just left the bruises in places clothing would conceal.
“Agnes, my dear. How have you been?” Despite Agnes’s intentions to bolster her cheery expression, the shock over the inheritance was ripping apart her strength piece by piece. Her friends would not see past her lies anyway.
“Worried, honestly. Devastated. Richard told me that I would be taken care of after his passing, as was our agreement when we chose to marry. But now his accountant, Mr. Evans, tells me that Charles has inherited everything, aside from some small properties in Skelton. I cannot wrap my head around it.”
Louisa immediately pulled Agnes into a hug with her free arm as Nora walked through the back door, wiping her hands on a towel. “Oh dear, what’s the matter? Here, have some chocolates before you cry and lose your ability to taste.”
She shoved the overflowing box toward Agnes. It was a struggle to free her arms from Louisa’s hold to choose one.
Louisa rolled her eyes. “I know you like to think everything can be solved by chocolates—”
“Most things can be . . .” Nora pondered aloud and then nodded. “At least with my chocolates.”
Louisa repeated Agnes’s news to Nora, who became increasingly more outraged as she listened to the series of events. “Well, how do we know we can trust this Mr. Evans? This is the first time I’m hearing of the man. But I know Richard. He would never have done this to you. Someone is lying!”
Louisa hummed in agreement and added, “He is now under the employ of Lord Skelton, is he not? He could be hiding something to help Charles inherit more than his share. Herman was talking about Charles after the funeral, laughing over how he’s been having difficulty paying his debts and dues at the club. ”
The thought had crossed Agnes’s mind, but within seconds, she had dismissed it.
Something about Mr. Evans made her believe he was incapable of any wrongdoing, at least not if he was aware of it.
Perhaps he projected an aura of honor, or perhaps it was the way he treated her specifically.
There was a seed of tenderness in their interactions, the possible blossom of friendship.
“No. I do not believe that Mr. Evans has any role in this, nor does he have any ill intentions. He seems to be concerned over my well-being. As well, my shock over the news appeared to have caught him off guard. He will return tomorrow, and we will discuss it further.”
“I am sure everything will be all right, Agnes. Richard would not have relied on Charles to look after you. Please look after yourself, though. You look exhausted.” Nora’s concern dimmed her normally bright expression.
“I will try. But I also have something I need to speak with you ladies about, especially you, Louisa.” Her friend sat up on the settee, alert.
Agnes wasn’t sure where to begin. While she had no doubt that her friends would believe that she had a ghostly encounter, she now felt shy to speak aloud the idea that her dead husband was contacting her from beyond the grave. Would they think her naive or consumed by her grief?
“I had a visitor a few days ago.” Her friends were silent, blinking, waiting for her to go on.
When she didn’t continue, Louisa stared back at her confused, her nose scrunched. “Yes, Mr. Evans . . .”
Agnes shook her head. More silence followed, then Nora’s eyes grew wide.
“A male visitor?! Agnes!”
“No, no. That’s not how I meant it. Just give me a minute to collect my thoughts. I mean a visitor of the spiritual kind. Bram was acting strangely, and then a paperweight fell off of Richard’s desk.”
Louisa placed her hand over Agnes’s. “What makes you think it was a ghost or a spirit? How do you know Bram didn’t knock it over?”
“I could just tell that I wasn’t alone. The room did not feel empty even though there was nothing to see.
The room was freezing, and the air moved in a strange manner, not like that from a drafty window.
The door between my room and Richard’s was open, and I don’t even know who has the key.
I think he was trying to give me a message. ”
“Oh, sweetheart,” said Nora. Her voice was sympathetic with a tenderness that showed she thought Agnes needed to be handled with care.
Louisa waited, eyes closed, as she often did, before responding. “I know you miss him terribly and miss his friendship, Agnes. But York is full of so many lost souls, human and other. I’m not saying that it wasn’t Richard, but it could have been anyone or anything—”
“It felt friendly?” Nora interjected. “I assume so, if you believe it was Richard.”
The three of them often did this, speaking without pauses as the conversation jumped from one woman to another.
Over the years spent in each other’s company, they had formed something stronger than kinship, drawn together by Edith.
And even with her gone, their bond had not weakened.
It remained as strong as Agnes’s most tested tinctures, Nora’s best enchantments, and Louisa’s connection with the spiritual world.
“Yes, I did feel that.” Once the surprise of the ghostly presence had dissipated, the lingering feelings were familiar, protective even.
“If you want us to call on you and investigate, you know we will. But we don’t want to encroach on your space until you’re ready, and then you won’t be able to get rid of us.” Louisa’s empathy stretched beyond the spirits to people as well, especially Nora and Agnes.
“Maybe, but so far, it has only happened once . . .” Although Agnes had become less willing to write off the other strange occurrences as just coincidences, she still relied on the solitude and routine in her home to get her through her grief.
“When I require help, I promise I’ll call on you.
But please, enough of my worries. Tell me something happy before I leave. ”
“I have some news,” Nora blurted with a hand lightly pressed on her stomach.
Before she could get the words out, Agnes and Louisa squealed with surprise and pulled Nora onto the settee with them.
Nora and her husband Duncan had been hoping for a babe since they first married four years ago. Things hadn’t been easy for them.
“My courses have been delayed for three months, and I promise, if I weren’t tying this apron so loosely around my waist, you would see that it’s true.”
Agnes walked back to Bootham feeling joyous for her best friend. She would be an aunt to a new babe. Not an aunt by blood, but the three women were closer than most sisters she had met in her life.
She ignored the small pull at her heart. She and Richard had never made any real attempts to have children, but it had been a while since she remembered that motherhood wasn’t part of her future. That was all it was.
Harry found Parker leaning against the brick office building, one foot propped behind him, awaiting his arrival. His secretary pushed himself off the wall and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Let’s grab some breakfast? The paperwork can wait. How is the situation in York?”