by Beth Byers
Violet poured a little of the limoncello into two glasses and added some of the chocolate liqueur to one and some ginger wine to another.
“Whatever are you doing?” Isolde asked, watching Violet take a sip of one of the glasses and make a face. Vi handed the glass to her sister and tried the next one.
“I’ve always loved ginger wine,” Vi told Isolde, setting aside the two drinks she mixed, as well as her bee’s knees, and took a fresh glass and poured herself the ginger wine.
“Do you?” Isolde kept the limoncello and chocolate cocktail and sipped it. “I always assumed you just liked cocktails.”
Violet shrugged and admitted, “Oh I do. I like how creative they are. I learn how to make the ones I like. But sometimes, I just want a little glass of ginger wine, a good book, and maybe some chocolate.”
“You,” Isolde told her sister, “are blue and pretending not to be. Do you like Mr. Wakefield that much?”
Violet nodded as Beatrice opened the door in response to the bell.
“Darling, I know Cook expected us to be out, but we’ll be in. Will you bring us something to eat? Anything?”
“He cooked for Lady Isolde, m’lady. Did you want a tray?”
“Two trays. We’re going to listen to the wireless and ignore that there is quite a lovely dining room in this house.”
Violet changed the subject as soon as Beatrice left and once she was back with the food, Violet nibbled on it, sipped her single glass of ginger wine, and listened to the music with her feet up.
“I would like a kimono,” Isolde said after a long while. She’d cleaned up the mess Violet had made with the bar, letting her sister snuggle into the comfortable chair. “Perhaps we might go shopping tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’ll be done with my mope tomorrow and prepared to force clothes upon you. It won’t be necessary for anyone to press clothes upon me as acquiring them is as natural as breathing.”
Isolde laughed as Violet curled onto her side and fell asleep listening to the music. Isolde woke her not long after, and got Vi up to her room where she slept the megrims away.
* * * * *
Victor woke Violet the next morning.
“I have the vaguest memory of having done something horrible.”
Violet pushed up her eye mask and scowled at her brother. “I was going to have a lie-in.”
“I dove right into my cups with Tomas. He was upset about you, I was upset about Jack leaving you with half a note, we indulged.”
Vi’s gaze narrowed on Victor’s.
“Of course I snuck in here and read it. Don’t be slow, luv.”
Violet pulled her eye mask the rest of the way off and pushed herself up. Her steely gaze was doing nothing to cow her brother.
“Tomas was glummer than you were, love. We got well and thoroughly toasted without nearly as many nibbles as you and I usually order. I recall finding out where Jack lived. And then…did I go there?”
Violet’s mouth dropped open and she took her pillow to beat at her brother.
“I know, I know, but mercy. My head, Vi. My head!”
“Find him,” she ordered. “Find Jack and make it better. Whatever you did, undo!”
“By jove, I will. I swear I will. I’ll find his place again. How did I find it drunk? I’ll explain that Tomas alone is like drinking with a fish. You are required to dance with him, so he doesn’t drown in gin.”
“Jack!” Vi cut in.
“Somehow it’ll make it all my fault. I was angry, you will have been all smiles.”
“Not smiles!” Vi said. “A little disappointed, but not shaken. Still clever. I went out with the girls. I didn’t miss a beat.”
Victor laughed. “Of course you did! Why would a bright young thing like yourself stay home, make a mess in the bar, mix random drinks, and then console herself with ginger wine, the drink you prefer when you’re glum.”
Violet hit Victor with the pillow again and said, “Isolde and I are on a mission to acquire her a kimono.”
“That fiend!” Victor said and then held his head at the sound of his own voice.
“We’ll buy whatever we might need for Belgium.”
“So nothing? Because certainly your wardrobe is sufficient for the entirety of the globe.”
Violet ignored that comment. “After which Isolde and I will have luncheon together and return home to a contrite brother who has made things right and is repentant. Perhaps in the mood to buy us both dinner at the Savoy.”
“I’ll make a reservation before I go.”
“See that you do,” Violet told him and then curled onto her side. “Ring for Beatrice on your way out. I think Isolde may have had all the things I mixed. She’ll need Giles’ concoction, aspirin, and probably some toast to soak up whatever booze is left in her stomach.”
“The poor bug,” Victor said. “I’ll be needing all those things myself to mend whatever I did.”
Chapter 21
Finding a kimono was easy given the infatuation that the British currently had with all things Asian.
Isolde moaned over two until Violet purchased them both with a second one for herself. Vi selected a Scarlett kimono with dragons embroidered on it. Her acquisitive soul demanded it the moment Vi set her eyes on it.
“Vi,” Isolde breathed, “look at this dress.”
Violet paused and walked towards it. From a distance, it was a simple nude beige dress. But as you approached the details appear. Shimmering gold beading, lacy accents, fringe that lengthened the line of the body.
“Oh my,” Violet said.
“There’s a matching gold shimmer wrap,” the salesgirl said. “A headpiece too, if you like those.”
“You have to try it on,” Isolde said.
“We can adjust it to you specifically,” the girl said. “I agree. This color of nude would look amazing on your skin.”
Violet wasn’t difficult to persuade. She stepped out of the dressing room and turned in front of the paneled mirror, running her hands down her body. She didn’t need Isolde to say Vi looked amazing. She knew she did.
“She’ll take it,” Isolde said for Violet. The salesgirl sent for the seamstress, a woman about Vi’s age of Asian descent. Her dark brown eyes sparkled as she examined Vi in the mirror.
“You look lovely. It’ll take at least three days for the adjustments. When they’re done, we’ll have it delivered. If you’d like a second fitting instead, I can bring it, but you’ll find it’s perfect.”
“I’m sure it will be. We’ve heard the most wonderful things about your establishment,” Violet said. “I’ll pay, Isolde, if you want to look in at the hat shop? You said your cloche got crushed.”
Her sister nodded, looking excited for another hat while Violet spoke with the seamstress.
“The designer is working on a dress that is garnet. It would require much daring to wear. I’ll have her pin it for your measurements and bring it when I come. You’ll want it,” the girl said.
Vi grinned at the woman and asked, “What is your name?”
“Liu Rushi.”
“I sense a partnership?”
“Indubitably,” Rushi replied with a wink and Violet requested their purchases to be delivered.
Violet meandered her way to the hat shop several doors down.
Had Victor been able to sort things out with Jack without making Vi seem like some sort of obsessive female who’d been destroyed by a simple missed date? If so, how had he done it?
The door over the shop jangled and Vi stepped in, glancing around.
“What can I help you with? Perhaps a new hat to match that lovely coat?”
“I…” Vi slowly turned. The hat shop wasn’t large and Isolde should be there. “I was supposed to be meeting my sister in here only…”
“No one has come in for the last half hour,” the man said.
Violet frowned. “Excuse me.”
She glanced down the street and saw other women shopping. There was a cab a few shops down. T
he sidewalks were mostly empty and Vi saw no sign of her sister. Slowly she moved to the next store to see if Isolde had been distracted into that shop, but her attention was caught by an alleyway between that shop and the hat shop.
Isolde had been carrying a leather handbag and two little urchins were digging through it.
“Hello there,” Violet said to them, eye on the bag.
The smaller one let go of the bag and darted away, but Violet was able to catch the arm of the one closer.
“Let me go!”
“Stop struggling. Keep the bag, I don’t care. I’ll give you more money if you stop.”
Slowly the child stopped struggling and Violet said, “Now. If you will swear to me that you won’t run, I’ll let go of you and pull out the money in my bag.”
“You’ll call the police.”
“I won’t,” Vi swore. “I’ll pinky swear.”
The kid searched Vi’s face and then slowly nodded and Violet let go of the child. She hesitated to step back until she saw the kid wasn’t moving. It took a moment for Vi to realize, but the child was a girl! Vi held out her pinky and the girl curled a dirty digit around Vi’s.
“Did you see what happened to the woman who was carrying this bag?”
The child nodded and Vi pulled out her pocketbook and grabbed blindly at the cash.
“Tell me,” Vi ordered.
The child hesitated and Vi said, “Look at all this ready money.” Violet rubbed it between her fingers so the stack of it could be seen.
“A man grabbed ‘er.”
“What did he look like?”
“Fancy bloke like you. Brown suit.”
Violet thought back to who might have taken her and the only possibility was Hugo Danvers. “Did he have anything unusual about his face?”
The girl tapped the spot on her cheek where Hugo’s large mole resided.
Violet moaned a little. “It’s all right,” she told herself.
“She didn't want to go,” the girl told Vi, searching Violet’s face.
“It’s all right,” Vi corrected, “because knowing who has my sister makes it easier to find her.”
Vi gave the girl a card for her house and the money. “We’re bound now, you and I,” Vi said. “You’ve done me a good turn. One I can never repay. If you need help, that’s where you’ll find me. Tell Hargreaves I sent you, show him the card, and even if I’m not there, you’ll be safe.”
The girl nodded. She offered Vi Isolde’s purse. Vi opened it, took out Isolde’s money and gave it to the girl as well.
“I’m Violet,” she said.
“Ginny.”
“We’re friends now,” Violet told her. “Where can I find the local bobby?”
It was evident that the girl didn’t want to say, but she led Vi through the streets of London using paths no one but a local would know. They poured out in a park where the bobby was walking and swinging his billy club.
“There he is,” the girl said, stepping back.
Vi squeezed her shoulder, not letting go and called, “Help! Help, police!”
The girl squirmed but didn’t try to run and the man came running.
“This girl steal from you?” he asked, his gaze narrowed.
“My sister was taken off the street. Ginny saw everything. We need help. We need…we need Mr. Barnes.”
“Barnes, eh?”
“Hamilton Barnes! I need him.”
“You know him, then?” The policeman scowled at Vi, taking in her expensive dress, shoes, and bag. “What’s all this now?”
Vi explained quickly as possible and the policeman’s face changed from doubtful to concerned. He took off a few minutes later, darting for the closest office with Violet and Ginny chasing after.
A call later and the policeman turned to them,.“Mr. Barnes isn’t it. But they know where he is. One of the boys is getting him. You’re to go home if Mr. Barnes knows where that is. Otherwise, I’ll take you to the station.”
“He knows where I live,” Violet said. Now that she had help, the shaking was starting and Violet stared helplessly at the policeman. “I…he’s…oh goodness, he has my baby sister.”
“It’ll be all right,” Ginny said quoting Violet. “You know who to look for.”
Violet pressed her lips together and nodded quickly. ”
“Let’s get you home now,” the policeman said.
He had one of the men in the station get a cab. When it arrived, the policeman opened the door for Violet. Ginny slipped in beside Vi and the bobby joined them. He got the address from Violet, and the drive across London was a century long, a millennia. How would she face her father? Lady Eleanor? What if they didn’t get Isolde back? What if something happened that she couldn’t fix later?
They stopped in front of the house, and Violet didn’t even realize she was home for a moment until the policeman got out and opened the door. As Violet was handed out, Victor and Jack came running down the stairs.
“Vi! We heard,” Victor wrapped his arm around her and pulled her inside. Ginny paused, but Vi reached out and grabbed the girl’s hand, pulling her along behind.
Inside the house, Vi and Ginny were taken to the parlor where they recounted the story.
“There’s more than you know, darling,” Victor said. “Jack missed your date because he and Barnes also realized that Hugo was the killer. Gulliver was seen storming off after the squabble with Danvers. These Yard boys were tracking Hugo down. They’ve got eyes on his apartment, his yacht, his business offices. He’ll turn up with Isolde and we’ll have them both.”
Violet nodded, but her gaze was caught by the sight of Ginny staring around in wonder. The girl was amazed while Violet was dying inside. She slowly breathed in and let it out, once, twice, again, but it wasn’t helping.
Jack said something, but Violet didn’t hear it. She rose as though a puppet master had yanked her strings, pacing between the windows. If Jack tried to talk to her again, she didn’t notice. She missed whatever was said between Ginny and the men, between the policeman and Victor. All of it.
What if she’d just gone with Isolde to look at hats? What if they’d stayed in? Isolde shouldn’t have been out and about so soon. She should have been safe at home, pretending to mourn.
Finally someone stopped her in her tracks. Vi glanced up expecting Victor but it was Jack.
“This is not your fault.”
Violet licked her lips and disagreed, “She’s my baby sister. She was here because it was our job to protect her.”
“No one could have guessed that Hugo Danvers would come after her.”
“But we did,” Violet countered. “We knew he was infatuated with her. Helen just told us that Hugo tended to be obsessive. We knew he’d pressed his attentions on her. We knew he’d shown up here to commiserate and mourn together. That wasn’t right. We should have known right then that…”
“We did,” Victor said. “We knew exactly that. It was I-not you Vi, I told him to never come back. To leave Isolde alone. It was one of the reasons why I was so behind the plan of Bruges. She needs to avoid the gossip, but more so—him. I was the one who took Isolde away from him. I was the one who caused this.”
Chapter 22
It had been before luncheon when Violet and Ginny returned to the house with the policeman. In a vague sort of way, Violet heard Ginny tell Victor she didn’t need to worry about getting home and could stay as long as she liked. Vi would have addressed that at any other moment, but her mind was skipping over what had happened again and again.
They’d gone shopping. How had Hugo known that they’d be there?
“He must have been watching the house. If he saw the servants leave yesterday but didn’t see Gerald take Isolde, then the house-breaking was the first attempt to take her with him.”
Victor started and Jack slowly turned. “What now?”
“Yesterday, when we got back from our trip to Margate,” Violet said. “Someone had attempted to force their way into the house.
Of course, it had to be Hugo.”
“Why haven’t I heard of this?” Jack demanded.
“You would have heard all about it,” Violet said, “if you’d been able to come last night.”
Jack paused, and Violet only realized then how that must have sounded. She sighed.
“She didn’t mean it like that,” Victor told Jack. “She meant literally. We intended to tell you all.”
Violet didn’t have time for the tender feelings of men or the brainwork to waste on those feelings. Her sister had been taken. Why? What could he hope to gain? Unless…Violet considered, remembering that day in the parlor, just over there. He’d pressed in on Isolde not even seeing her distress. He hadn’t cared what she felt, only cared about telling her what he’d wanted her to know. What had it been? Hugo had watched Isolde since before she was old enough for him to approach her. Violet shivered at the idea of the younger Isolde having someone fixate on her.
“He is obsessed with her. Like a brain fever. He wants her to the exclusion of even how she feels. What did he call her?”
Victor shrugged, staring at Violet, and she remembered all at once.
“An angel. She isn’t real to him. She’s an infatuation, like being in love with Aphrodite or someone from a book. Only Isolde is something you can snatch. Something you can stalk. Lion to deer. He watched and waited and…my god, he killed his father. For what? They hated each other. His father would have been more likely to leave anything—should there have been a penny after his crimes—to a boy’s school than his son. The only benefit of killing Carlton Danvers for Hugo was freeing Isolde.”
“There were,” Jack said, “a series of threatening letters from Hugo to Carlton. We found them yesterday. They did, in fact, refer to changing course before the wedding day.”
“So he took her to keep her?” Victor asked. “He can’t possibly expect to get away with his plan.”
“Of course he does. He’s evil, not stupid.” Violet bounced on her feet. “Of course he has a plan.”
“The yacht,” Jack said. “If he wants to keep her, if he thinks he can get away with this kidnapping, it’s the yacht.”