by Beth Byers
“A Saturday tea. We’ll go overboard though. Some amazing strawberry scones and blackberry ones too.”
“What are we planning?” Eunice demanded.
“Robert’s life,” Joseph told her as Lucy and Janey went to wash up. “We’ve found his one true love.”
“Or,” Georgette countered, “someone whose appearance intrigued him enough to imagine a backstory for her that was, in fact, entirely wrong.”
Eunice looked between them.
“However,” Joseph shot back, “she loves to read.”
“Well, in my experience,” Eunice replied dryly, “all good marriages are based off of an equal love of books.”
Joseph waved off their sarcasm. “Blackberry scones.”
“Your favorite.” Eunice nodded. “That makes perfect sense.”
“Ginger biscuits,” Joseph added.
“Also your favorite,” Georgette inserted.
“Those cucumber sandwiches Georgette likes.”
“Magnanimous,” Georgette said dryly.
“I’ll handle the menu,” Eunice snapped. “When will it be?”
“Marian and I will stumble over her at lunch tomorrow,” Joseph said grandly. “We’ll invite her then. We’ll give her a week since she might have plans for a few days from now, but we’ll wrap it around when she can be there.”
Eunice lifted a brow at Georgette, noting the full glass of milk and the scraps of the meal that were clearly just eaten and demanded, “Were you working since I left?”
“You found me at the table, didn’t you?” Georgette said in weak defense.
Eunice’s gaze narrowed and her eyes flicked to Joseph, who was carefully looking away. She didn’t bother to call them on the avoidance of the truth. Instead she only muttered about lies and the nature of their afterlife.
4
ROBERT AARON
Robert frowned down at his manuscript. He’d spent the entirety of his lunch break debating the use of the word chignon. It was possible he’d moved from working to procrastinating. He bit his bottom lip and knew that he’d have to talk to Charles eventually.
Slowly, Robert rose from his desk. It was time to drum up some bravery. Charles had asked Robert to pick up an extra sandwich. Despite the sick feeling in his stomach, he picked up the manuscript and the roast beef and crossed to his uncle’s office.
“Do you have a few minutes?”
Charles nodded. Robert was sure his uncle had caught the cracking of his throat. “Everything all right? This about the girl?”
“A little bit,” Robert said. He took a deep breath, shoved the sandwich at Charles and said, “I noticed her first and thought she must be married to that mountain man of hers. I admit I was disappointed and then I thought…what if—”
“What if?”
Robert gritted his teeth and said, “What if he died…”
“Do I need to worry about you planning a murder?”
Robert laughed and then handed over the manuscript. “I only killed him fictionally. I’m not a monster.”
“Fictionally?” Charles looked at it, and Robert watched his uncle tense.
“I don’t expect anything other than for you to read it. I knew, though, that it was lacking, ah, charm? The things that someone like Georgette sees.”
Charles looked up at that.
“So she worked on it with me.”
Charles’s eyes glinted at that and Robert noted the avarice in his uncle’s gaze. The author ‘Joseph Jones’ was a known seller for Aaron & Luther. More books with that name attached? Any publisher would perk up at that. However, Charles’s gaze shifted as he realized that Robert and Georgette had been working on this project secretly.
“I didn’t take advantage of her, I swear.”
Charles shook his head at that. “She’d have said no to almost anyone else. She sees you as a little brother.”
Robert shuffled a little at that. He didn’t want to blush and stutter like a little girl, but he also felt a bit like blushing and stuttering. “She added all of the charm and emotion. The rest was me. I hope you like it.”
He might have fled the room before Charles could reply. Robert might have been unable to do more than half-start projects and neglect to finish them. He wanted to pick up a drinking glass, take it to Charles’s door, and eavesdrop on the off-chance that Charles laughed or commented aloud. Instead, Robert forced himself to work until the new receptionist came fluttering into his office.
“Thomas Spencer is here.”
Robert stared, his mind jerking from his book to his place of employment. He rose and crossed to Charles’s office, knocking and then entering a moment later. Charles looked up from his desk, where Robert’s manuscript was open on his desk, his pen in hand. Charles had been puffing on his pipe while he worked and Robert had to force himself to keep his mind on his job.
“Charles, Thomas Spencer has arrived.”
Charles glanced to ensure the door was closed and then cursed. “He’s not supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be turning in his book. He takes over the day when he shows up, and it’s usually to either beg for an extension on his due date or tell me why he’s written something other than what was agreed upon.”
“If he makes you jump to his bidding,” Robert muttered, “then he has a better bargaining stance when he starts telling you why what he did is fine even though it wasn’t what you contracted.”
“Mmm,” Charles said, closing the file. His gaze turned to his nephew’s and Robert had little doubt that Charles was well aware of all the questions clamoring in Robert’s head, but he wasn’t voicing them. He wouldn’t. They had a job to do.
Charles, however, seemed to feel differently. “I like it.”
Robert couldn’t help but reply, “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Charles replied. “And not just the parts that are Georgette.”
Robert couldn’t hold in the relieved gasp.
“This girl of yours in the book, however,” Charles said low, “is not Miss Evelyn Hobbs.”
“I know,” Robert said with a laugh. “Miss Hobbs and the dichotomy of her and her cousin inspired Lottie.”
“I hope she’s better than you could have imagined.”
Robert ended the evening with Charles and a personal promise that if a book contract arrived, Robert would never, not ever, pull the nonsense that Thomas Spencer tried to pull today. Especially given that Robert knew that silky cool tone that Charles had used on Mr. Spencer.
They had to take the last train from London to Harper’s Hollow and they’d have to walk when they arrived. The best that could be said of it all was that there would be a hot fire for Charles at the end of the day and a warm bed. Robert wished he could say the same.
“Come to the house,” Charles ordered Robert as they walked down the lane.
Robert started to reply when the oversized form of Warren Hobbs caught his attention. The man was trying to lurk in the shadows near a small house. Robert elbowed his uncle and jerked his head to the windows near where Hobbs stood.
“I say now,” Charles called calmly. “What are you doing there?”
The man cursed and disappeared into the shadows as Robert muttered, “Not sure how wise that was.”
“Oh I wouldn’t have started a bar fight with him,” Charles agreed. “But we’re at a row of family homes here, Robert. If he wanted to challenge things, I can tell you with clarity that lights would have been turned on and officers called.”
“Isn’t that the house of that…what’s his name? I feel like we met him at the pub. The short fellow with the tubby stomach. We laughed about how if he’d had a beard, he’d look like Father Christmas.”
Charles glanced back at the house. “I think so. Whatever could he be doing there? That man, what is his name? Mar…not Martin. Marvin. No. It was odd. Marin.”
“Yes,” Robert said. “He’s the fellow who was complaining about his mouthy little girls. Told me to never have children. Mocked you because it wa
s too late for you.”
Charles grunted. “People keep apologizing to me about Georgette and the baby. Like, ‘Sorry old man, all is over for you now.’”
Robert snorted. “They’re jealous. You have a sweet wife, a nice house, a good business. In these hard times, Charles, your life is charmed.”
“Charmed. Indeed.” His voice was mocking, but they both knew he was happier in the last year with Georgette in his life than he’d ever been living the bachelor dream life with dinners at the club, ladies trying to catch his eye and his heart, and a fulfilling and lucrative career.
“Do you think we should tell Joseph we saw Hobbs lurking outside of someone’s house? Or do we not tell because it feels like tattling.”
Charles shook his head. “To be honest, the fellow moved along and I’d just as soon not worry about him. I’m ready to go home to my wife.” Charles eyed him. “Your house, however, is cold, empty, and insufficient for your needs. It’s time to at least get the roof done.”
Robert nodded. It had been on his list of things to do. Along with fixing the chimney, replacing the broken windows, and having the hot water situation resolved, but the book had come first.
He followed his uncle home, saw the light on in the front parlor and guessed that Georgette had waited up for Charles.
Georgette was curled up on the chaise lounge in the front parlor, one arm around her pregnant belly as she snored gently. Charles glanced at her as he set aside his briefcase and then shrugged out of his coat and hat. “There will be food on the dining room table on a tray,” he told Robert quietly.
Robert wasn’t really hungry, but he wouldn’t say no to that cup of tea they’d discussed. After this day and handing over his manuscript, along with getting a ray of hope about Evelyn Hobbs, he almost needed a cup of hot milk and a biscuit like he got as a boy.
Robert stepped back as his uncle crossed to Georgette. He leaned down and lifted her in his arms and she woke as he did.
“Oh, Charles,” she said, and then nuzzled into his neck. Robert knew he was lurking as badly as Hobbs had been earlier. Only Charles knew Robert was there. It was only that these were the moments that gave a book charm. And he didn’t need to use it exactly as witnessed. Just in noting the emotion, he could change it for his characters and simply add the depth of feeling that he saw when his uncle cherished his wife.
It was also these moments that shifted Robert from his comfortable bachelor life to wanting what Charles had. Before Georgette, none of them wanted this family situation. Now that they’d seen what could happen when a good woman loved you, Robert and Joseph wanted it as desperately as Charles had until Georgette agreed to marry him.
Charles and Georgette faded to the upstairs and Robert blushed a little as he escaped to the kitchen to make himself a plate of Eunice’s biscuits, hot milk, and perhaps even look for a slice of cake to go along with the other stolen sweets. He took them to the library and set the dishes on the desk before shifting Georgette’s book aside, carefully ensuring that no pages were misplaced.
Robert took a piece of paper and considered just where he’d left his Lottie. She’d been freed, finally, from jail for the murder of her husband, and she’d walked alone from the station. Robert supposed he’d left her a little precarious. Perhaps not the end he wanted for her after all.
He placed his piece of paper in Georgette’s typewriter, rolled it forward until it was in the right place, and then began tapping. His milk had transitioned back to cold before he was done, the biscuits left untouched, and a mere solitary bite from the cake. He could see how easy it was for Georgette to be pulled into a story. He was only stopping due to a pressure to visit the gentlemen’s room.
It was then that he noticed that it had passed 3:00 am, and he guessed that he’d be finding his way to Joseph’s café for more than one of those tiny bitter coffees.
5
MARIAN PARKER
Marian did not want to admit that she was tiptoeing down the stairs to the front hall. She’d already placed her hat on her head, her coat on her body, and hooked her handbag over her elbow. She had told Mother the day before that she had an afternoon date. They hadn’t discussed, however, that the date was with Joseph.
Marian found herself wondering as she took the bus to Scotland Yard whether he’d be there. It wouldn’t have been a question she’d have had before her mother started playing with her mind. Perhaps they should elope. Perhaps she should just marry Joseph and see if her mother will change her attitude. Perhaps if it were too late to save Marian from her supposed idiocy then Mother would stop being so negative about Joseph.
With a sigh, Marian hopped off of the bus and walked up to the door of Scotland Yard still thinking about Mother’s comments about Joseph. It wasn’t as though Marian would be ruined if she lost Joseph. Mother wouldn’t accept the answer that Joseph’s security was his family when her own family didn’t seem to be willing to be the same safety net.
Or maybe her parents would save her and any children if something happened to Joseph, but they’d do so with an I told you so. Whereas, Charles and Robert would do so without a thought. And, for that matter, Charles and Robert would work with Joseph as the years went by for them all to become more and more financially stable—with savings accounts, careful investments, and the like.
Marian smiled at the officer at the front desk and went directly to Joseph’s office. She held her breath as she knocked and then sighed in relief when he called a distracted, “Come in.”
“Joseph!” she said, closing the door behind her.
He grinned widely as though not expecting her, but she watched his gaze dart to the clock, widen in surprise, and then he was taking her hand and tugging her in for a kiss.
“Hello,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Hello,” she said before he kissed her once again. It always felt like it was too long between when she saw him. She was well aware her mother and father were trying to make it more and more difficult, as though Marian would give up her plans to marry Joseph. You would think they’d never heard of the idea that absence made the heart grow fonder. “I’ve missed you.”
“Come spend the rest of the week in Harper’s Hollow?” he asked. “Maybe come forever?”
Marian wanted to. Oh! She wanted to so badly. “I’m afraid if I do that, Mother will never forgive me.”
He paused. “I want you to be happy, darling. Whatever you need.”
“I just need to try to keep the peace. They’re not bad parents. I keep thinking if I give them time, they’ll realize that our marriage is a good thing.”
Joseph frowned down at her and then deliberately smoothed his face into evenness and then even a smile. She knew he wouldn’t want to choose between her or Charles, Georgette, and Robert. There was no way that he’d be happy that way. He wouldn’t ask the same of her.
“Whatever you need, love.” He grinned widely at her, his eyes glinting with mischief, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“I feel like I am seeing the future smirks of our sons. You look as though you’re about to put a frog down someone’s dress.”
Joseph laughed as he tucked her close to his side. “Nothing so nefarious. I’m only excited to track down this Evelyn Hobbs and introduce you.”
Marian shook her head. “I expect food.”
“I’ll get you some,” he swore.
Her gaze narrowed on him. “I am not referring to roasted peanuts in the park.”
“There’s a little café. They have espresso, which will keep you up all night. But they have these sandwiches, Marian my love. Baguette as though it had been made in Paris. Topped with mozzarella, balsamic vinegar, tomatoes. I’ve been wanting to take you for ages.”
Marian nodded and let him lead her down to the park. He’d said that this Evelyn Hobbs who Robert had been obsessing over spent her lunch in the park, reading. They walked around it twice before they tried the cafés near the park and the Yard.
“Is
that her?” Marian asked when Joseph paused to study a woman sitting at a small table at the second café they tried.
Joseph nodded.
“What is she reading?” Marian pressed up on her toes as Joseph bypassed the hostess who was ready to direct them to another table.
“Miss Hobbs?”
The little blonde looked up from her book and her eyes widened. “Detective Inspector?” Her pretty green eyes moved from Joseph to Marian and then back to him again. “Hello, sir.”
“May I introduce my fiancée, Marian Parker?”
The girl’s eyes widened again and she nodded. There was not a single bit of interest in Evelyn’s face when it came to Joseph, and Marian swore to herself that she’d befriend this reticent woman if it was the last thing she did. Few were the women who didn’t give Joseph a second look.
“May we sit?” Marian asked brightly, and she slid into the chair next to Evelyn before the woman could reply. Marian stopped Joseph, however, before he could sit. “Go on then. I want something yummy and sweet.”
Joseph lifted a brow and then stepped up to the counter to order while Marian leaned in and asked, “So what are you reading?”
The girl colored as she placed the book in her lap. “Jane Eyre.”
“Oh dearie,” Marian laughed. “That is no Jane Eyre. She’s at least twice that size.”
Evelyn blushed furiously. “I—”
“No offense to dear Charlotte, of course, but if you are reading something worth hiding, I’d love a chance to read it myself.”
Evelyn glanced towards Joseph and then whispered, “But what if he doesn’t approve?”
“Joseph?” Marian laughed. “If he was so controlling as to try to keep a handle on what I’m reading I’d follow my mother’s advice and marry someone else. These Aaron men are far more likely to hand you an exciting book and wait anxiously for you read it so you can talk to them about their favorite parts than to try to make sure the books are always perfectly proper.”