With all my will, I tried to resist the urge to trespass on Jacob’s thoughts. Now and again, I caught a wisp of his ponderings. Leaning back against the side of the boat, I tried to avert my gaze.
“How did you meet?” Jacob asked.
I felt Marcus’ silent insistence that I should answer.
“We were introduced,” I said.
“Where did you meet?” Jacob asked.
“Here in London,” I replied.
Jacob gave an incredulous look. “Why do I always feel you’re avoiding my questions?”
“We met at Belshazzar’s,” Marcus added. “Just before your father bought the property. Of course it wasn’t called that when we met there.”
“What was it called?” Jacob asked.
“Blackfriars.” I was unsure whether the chill that ran down my spine came from the river breeze. The oarsman’s stare locked on me. It dawned on me that anything we discussed could very well wind up circulating around the city. The oarsman visibly shivered.
Jacob caught our interaction and gave me a baffled look. “Where’s Rachel tonight?” he asked. “I’m sure she would have enjoyed this.”
Marcus shrugged.
“Rachel plays the violin beautifully,” Jacob said.
Marcus smiled. “You should have been around for rehearsals in the early days.” He laughed. “That takes brotherly love to a whole new level.”
“Is anyone else getting sea sick or is it just me?” I pressed my hand over my mouth.
“On the Thames?” Jacob said.
“Take us in,” I ordered the oarsman.
“Already?” Jacob looked at Marcus and then back at me.
I’d dropped many a body into these waters and my imagination ran wild as I envisioned that one of the corpses might spring out of the dark depths and scream at me.
That would take some explaining.
Jacob looked up at Marcus. “Is he like this with you?”
Marcus smiled.
Jacob studied me. “You need to get more sun.” He looked at Marcus. “In fact, you both do.”
I wondered if the oarsman could swim.
* * * *
Jacob insisted that we visit an old favorite inn of his. With his enthusiasm to show us his old haunt so great, it had been impossible to refuse him.
All three of us sat on the hard, wooden benches, right in the middle of the rowdy pub, awaiting our order of drinks. I regretted agreeing to dinner. The tavern was small and dark, atmospheric even. Marcus’ ability to make light conversation softened what could have been an uncomfortable soiree.
“So, Jacob, have you made a decision yet?” I asked.
“About moving into Belshazzar’s?”
I nodded.
“Perhaps.”
Doing my best to hide my disappointment, I leaned back against the bench and folded my arms.
“So do tell.” Jacob turned to Marcus. “What can you tell me about my father?”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Oh, where to begin?”
I lifted my cup and pretended to sip.
“Your father searched for you relentlessly,” Marcus offered.
I found myself gripping the table, aware of the tension I let go.
“Every night, he scoured London for you,” Marcus continued. “He never gave up.”
I was relieved when the waitress interrupted and yet disconcerted when she plopped down bowls of soup and the smell hit me. More food arrived, freshly baked rabbit and a full plate of vegetables.
Conscious of being watched, I seriously contemplated eating, but with the memory of Marcus vomiting on me, I decided against it.
“Tell me more about your business.” Jacob offered me some bread.
I accepted a piece and rested it on the side of my plate. “We buy land.”
Jacob offered some to Marcus.
Marcus declined with a wave. “We purchase old homes and tear them down.”
“And then we rebuild,” I said.
“How many homes around Belshazzar’s do you own?” Jacob asked.
“Almost all of them,” I answered.
“What, like the whole street?” Jacob joked.
“Yes.” Marcus gave up pushing his food around his plate and put his fork down.
Jacob glanced at me and then at Marcus.
“Those reluctant to sell are offered double for their property,” Marcus said. “Within three years of moving into Belshazzar’s, we owned the majority of land surrounding the manor.”
“We rent them out.” I poked my food.
Jacob turned to Marcus. “Not hungry either?”
Marcus sighed. “That boat left me feeling a little queasy.”
“I would like your permission to take Rachel to the park tomorrow.” Jacob dipped a chunk of bread into his soup.
Marcus glanced at me. “My sister’s heading out of town.”
Jacob’s face fell.
Marcus coughed. “This trip has been planned for quite some time.”
“Where’s she going?” Jacob ate the damp morsel.
“Cornwall,” I blurted.
Jacob swallowed. “Who does she know in Cornwall?”
“Our aunt,” Marcus said. “She’s taken a turn for the worse.”
I feigned concern. “Nothing quite like sea air.”
“Rachel mentioned nothing,” Jacob said.
I pulled at the cuffs of my sleeves.
“Rachel’s very private,” Marcus offered.
Jacob folded his arms. “She’s not the only one.”
“And what about you?” I asked Jacob. “What are your plans?”
“I hope to continue with my studies, keep Dr. Pott’s old practice running, just as he intended it. Medicine for the poor. A few of my clients are wealthy and, as such, I’m able to take care of those less fortunate. I’ve had a private benefactor who’s supplemented my income.” Jacob’s face reddened, his expression one of realization.
I gestured to the waitress for the bill. I wanted out of here.
“That money, it came from you, didn’t it?” Jacob’s face was flushed.
“Well I—”
“Of course.” He shook his head.
I pushed the bowl of soup away. “Sometime in the near future, I imagine you’ll want to join the business.”
“My vocation is medicine.” Jacob shook his head. “I have no head for business and no interest in it.”
“But still.”
“I take great pride in what I do.” Jacob thrust his chin upward. “Any other kind of life is superficial.”
“Why thank you.” I sighed.
“Life isn’t all about decadence.” Jacob glowered. “You’ve pushed your food around with your nose in the air. That would have fed a starving child, of which London has many.”
I sighed.
“You too.” Jacob turned to Marcus.
“We get it, Jacob,” I said, frustrated.
“No, you don’t,” he snapped.
“Being wealthy enables us to give to the poor,” I said.
Several of the other guests stared in our direction.
Marcus quickly inclined toward Jacob. “Rachel would love to go to the park with you.”
Jacob’s face showed a subtle change.
“She leaves for Cornwall Wednesday,” Marcus said, “so why not take her to the park tomorrow?”
Jacob flinched. “You’re trying to placate me?”
“I’m offering you an olive branch,” Marcus said. “Look, your father and I came from those lowly origins you talk of. We dressed in rags and ate bread and water.”
I gave Marcus an incredulous stare.
“But,” Marcus continued, “we survived. Crawled our way up out of the gutter. And yes, we do enjoy the finer things in life, but it’s not like we don’t work for them.”
Jacob looked at me. “Why don’t you tell me these things? When I try to find out more about you, you change the subject.”
“Some things, I choose to forget.” I r
eached into my jacket pocket.
“But I’ve missed out on all of it.”
I placed several coins on the table. “We should go.”
Jacob frowned. “I’d very much like to take Rachel out tomorrow. That is, of course, if my father approves?”
With a nod, I rose from the table.
Jacob stared up at me, again with that frown.
* * * *
Here in the study, one could find assured privacy.
Tonight though was an exception. Sunaria, Marcus, and Rachel stared me down.
“This is not open for discussion.” I turned away from them and faced the fireplace.
Rachel sniveled. “But I don’t want to go to Cornwall.”
“You don’t actually have to go to Cornwall.” I spun round to face her. “Just tell him you are.”
Sunaria glared.
“He’s infatuated with her,” I said.
Sunaria sighed. “I don’t see the harm.”
“Rachel,” I feigned compassion. “Pack your things.”
Marcus wrapped his arm around her waist. “Sweetheart, what he’s trying to say is that Jacob is not ready to learn about who we are.”
“But Sunaria’s shown me how to mingle,” she sobbed. “I know how to act normal.”
“Define being normal, Rachel.” Dealing with her was making me weary.
She suppressed a sob.
“Jacob’s a man of science,” I explained, annoyed that I had to. “He’ll detect you’re different.”
“Don’t say it.” Sunaria gestured insistently to me.
“He’ll meet a nice girl, marry her, and then you can come back,” I said.
“You bastard,” Sunaria muttered.
Rachel burst into tears.
“Can’t you see her heart’s breaking?” Sunaria snapped.
I waved off her statement. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Rachel, go to your room,” Sunaria rubbed Rachel’s arm with affection. “I’ll join you in a minute.”
“Go on, love,” Marcus said.
We waited for Rachel to exit.
“What the hell are you doing encouraging her?” I snapped.
Marcus shut the door and turned. “At least be a little more patient with her.”
“Don’t play your violin in the house,” I continued. “Could I have been any clearer?”
“I’ve spent years helping her confidence flourish,” Sunaria said.
“Yes, but you didn’t always feel this way about her, did you?” I neared her.
Sunaria looked furious. “That’s unfair.” She glanced at Marcus, uncomfortable with where this was going, and then grabbed my arm. “She’s like a sister to me.”
I pulled away from her.
“In one night, you undermine all my work.” Sunaria rested her hands on her hips. “And you refuse to consider the future.”
“Not now.” Marcus gave her a stern glare.
“What, you’ll just let him grow old and die?” Sunaria said.
“Sunaria.” Marcus shot her a wary glance.
“Or worse, catch something from one of his patients,” she continued.
“If either of you touch my son,” I said bitterly. “I will kill you.”
The room fell quiet.
* * * *
Strolling through the graveyard, it felt refreshing to be outside.
Fog hung just above the ground, layering the cemetery with an eerie white, an exquisite haze. Taking a seat on one of the older mausoleums, I tried to think, considering Sunaria’s words.
Turn him.
With my son growing older, nearing my age with each passing year, I failed to see the advantage. At some point, I would either have to tell him or withdraw. Jacob would turn twenty-two in August. Two choices and I liked neither of them—both threatened unhappiness.
I regretted my earlier outburst.
Sunaria’s perfume caught in the air and she stepped out of the haze dressed in a black laced bodice and a flowing skirt.
“Why do things never turn out the way they’re supposed to?” I sighed.
She snuggled against me and brushed her fingers through my hair.
“I’ve missed you,” I whispered.
The fog swam around us.
Leaning back on my elbows, I admired the view and she pushed me back onto the mausoleum. I imagined that whoever lay entombed beneath exulted with that which unfolded above.
Savoring the moment, I gazed up at the obscured stars, our bright witnesses of the night. I reached out to the side, my hand sweeping through the mist, disappearing into the blanket of white.
I flinched with the sharp sting of her bite. The sensation of her drawing the finest claret sent a thrill, our perfect scarlet sustenance. The sensations mingled pleasure with pain.
“I love you.” I conveyed that I needed this, needed her. “You’re mine eternal,” I whispered and disappeared within to that place, within the perfect place . . .
Chapter 53
HEADING UP THE STAIRWAY, I hoped Marcus hadn’t left.
I couldn’t wait to find Sunaria and reciprocate her affection. She had a knack for knowing just how to deal with me and soothe my angst. A bark signaled the dogs would appear at any moment.
Hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I spun round and peered down into the foyer and saw Jacob standing at the base of the stairs, resting one hand on the banister. I had a mental recap on how quickly I’d flown in through the front door, and at the same time threw what I hoped was a convincing smile.
“I’ve come to apologize,” he said.
Descending, I neared him. “For what?”
“My behavior at dinner.”
“Actually, I feel I owe you the apology,” I said.
The patter of paws sounded as the hounds ran to greet us. They barked when they saw Jacob. I ordered them to remain at the top of the balcony. My tone stopped them in their tracks.
I turned to Jacob again. “The work you do, it’s magnificent. I just want you to have the life that I never had at your age.”
“I spoke out of hand last night.” Jacob sighed. “Will you forgive me?”
“Already forgotten.”
My skin tingled. Dawn lingered close.
“You seem distracted.” He looked puzzled. “Would you like to talk about it?”
With a wave of my hand, I dismissed the idea. My fingers fumbled for the banister and I turned away.
“Perhaps we could spend more time together?” he said. “I’ve got a few things on my mind I’d like to—”
“Sure.”
“You have to be somewhere?”
I nodded.
He looked disappointed. “I let myself in.”
“That’s fine.”
“That’s not my point.” Jacob’s tone changed. “You don’t have any staff?”
“They’ll be in shortly.”
“But no housekeeper?”
“As I was saying—”
Jacob’s face changed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so touchy.”
“We’ve been apart for so long. We’re just getting to know each other, that’s all.”
“You’re right. of course.”
Jacob rose up onto the first step. “Your business . . . perhaps you can introduce me to some of the finer points. I’m interested in what you do.”
“Don’t want to push it on you.” Ascending the stairs backward, I tried to look natural. and hated the sun for its selfish act of rising.
“I know it’s early,” he said. “I thought you might like to stroll with me. We can catch the sunrise in the park. I thought you might like that.” He took another step. “Have I disappointed you?”
“Of course not. I’ll see you tonight.”
A shimmer of daylight leaked beneath the front door and threatened its approach.
“First in the tavern you couldn’t wait to get out of there, and now here, I feel like I’m being avoided.”
The shimmer crept along.
; The doorbell rang.
Jacob turned.
* * * *
The fire roared in the hearth warming the study.
I watched Jacob’s expression as he took in the central table, dark leather, and oak furnishings.
“This room has the best view of the house.” I studied his reaction.
Jacob seemed nervous. “You move fast.”
I feigned pleasure from the fire’s warmth. “Sorry about that.”
“And when I say fast . . .”
I nodded. “Sunaria tells me I need to slow down.”
“Where did you go?”
Behind that bookcase lies a clandestine doorway. One of several in this house that leads to a chamber, where safety goes hand in hand with a good day’s sleep. “Had an appointment and couldn’t miss it.”
“I see.”
“What do you think?” I gestured.
“You designed this room for me?”
“Yes.”
“You went all out.” He stretched up and eased one of the books off the shelf. He opened it and leafed through it. “You chose these for me?”
“I did.”
“I’m speechless.”
“Look here.” I pointed to the hearth.
Jacob approached the mahogany fireplace and ran his fingers over the engraved fleur-de-lis. “It’s beautiful.”
As his fingers traced the design, I sensed his anxiety.
“You approve?” I tried to read his expression and stay out of his thoughts.
Jacob reached into his inner coat and removed a dispatch. Impossible to tell if he’d opened it. “This came for you.” He rubbed his fingers over the red seal. “Just after you . . . disappeared.”
Studying the envelope, I tried to make out the handwriting.
“I’m looking forward to playing chess again.” He gave an unconvincing smile. “I’m beginning to understand that it’s more than a game to you.”
“You’re a quick learner.”
“Not fast enough.”
I faked disinterest in the letter that he still held. My gaze fell on the portrait above the fireplace, a sunrise over the River Thames. We’d commissioned Alberto Ceravassio to paint it and paid him well.
“You’ve won the last three games,” Jacob said. “Occasionally, you let me win in order not to sabotage my morale.”
“Ah.”
“I’m getting to know you.” He handed me the envelope. “Understanding you helps me have a better understanding of myself.”
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