by C. J. Archer
But Louis did not look offended. “If it weren’t for you, Celia, I might. I’m sorry, Emily, Cara, but I know neither of you as well as I know Celia. As she said, she’s not prone to fanciful thoughts. If she says you can see ghosts, then I must believe that you can.”
Celia put her cup to her lips even though I knew she’d finished her tea some time ago. Her eyelids were lowered, so I could not see her eyes, but I distinctly heard her sniff.
“Thank you,” I said. My relief surprised me. I hadn’t thought I cared so much for his good opinion.
“Tell me what I can do to help,” he said. “This villain…the one cursing the Otherworld…he must be stopped.”
“Emily will stop him,” Cara said.
“My friends, George and Theo, are watching the house of a suspect tonight, “I said. “I’ll see them in the morning and find out if she went anywhere. There’s little else to do. But thank you.”
“Friends…is that all these gentlemen are to you?”
Celia clicked her tongue. “Honestly, Mr. Moreau, it’s a little late to be coming across as fatherly now.”
“Celia,” I hissed. “Stop it.”
Louis merely shrugged. He looked at his teacup, which he’d set down on the tray. He hadn’t touched it. Perhaps he didn’t drink tea. There was so much about my father I was yet to learn. “I suppose it’s my turn now.” When none of us spoke, he continued. “I went to New South Wales on a government scheme. I didn’t want to be assistant to my father forever, and there aren’t many opportunities for a man like me in England.”
I could well imagine. My skin was light compared to my father’s. Whereas I was sometimes called exotic, he would have been labeled much worse. We didn’t press him for details and he gave none.
“I wanted to prove I was worthy of your mother,” he said to me. “She was…very proper, you see. I thought…I thought that if I couldn’t be a gentleman here in London, then I could be a wealthy man in another country. My plan was to earn enough money in New South Wales then write to you both and have you join me,” he said to Celia.
“We…she…never wanted you to leave,” Celia said. “How can you expect us to uproot our lives to follow to the other side of the world?”
“When you love someone, anything is possible. But only if you truly want to be with them.”
Celia turned away to stare at the fireplace.
“What happened?” I asked. “Why didn’t you write?”
“Making my fortune proved more difficult than I imagined. Work paid little. I could never save enough. I was ashamed of my failure, so I didn’t write. I didn’t want anyone to know that I’d amounted to precisely nothing. Especially her.”
“You should have,” I said. “She would not have thought you a failure. Not if she loved you.”
“Whether she did or not…it doesn’t matter now. As the years passed, I came to regret my decision of not writing. Regret it deeply.” He cast a glance at Celia, but she didn’t move, didn’t look at him. She sat stiff and proud, staring into the fireplace. “But I was young at the time, and I thought I’d be a disappointment.”
“Nonsense,” I said. “Anyway, as it turned out, you’re quite successful. You said your shop is doing very well.”
“It is. Now. But I’ve only had it two years.”
“And before that you worked in low-paying jobs?”
“At the beginning, for a year. It was around that time that I’d decided I had to write to your mother regardless of my poor state. I missed her. Missed her keenly,” he said softly. “I had never told her how much, and after so long without her, I knew I needed to tell her how I felt and let her make up her own mind.”
“What happened to change your mind?” I asked. “Why didn’t you write then?”
“You met another woman,” Celia said. “It’s understandable. You must have been lonely.”
“There was no one else. Never, ever anyone else.”
Celia’s breath hitched, but only I could have heard it.
“I didn’t write because my situation grew worse. I went to prison.”
“Prison!” Cara and I cried in unison.
Celia’s cup fell to the floor. It was empty, fortunately, but she did not move to retrieve it. I picked it up and set it on the table. She’d gone quite pale.
“If I wasn’t a failure before, then I was certainly one then. How could I support a wife from prison? How could I ever face her? I decided writing would have to wait. Indeed, I admit that I lost all hope of ever seeing your mother again. I was determined to give her up and I hoped she would forget me in time. It was for the best.”
“She never did,” I said, but I wasn’t sure what was in my mother’s heart. She’d never spoken of Louis. If anything, she seemed more in love with Celia’s father as the years wore on. Poor Louis. Pining for a woman who did not care for him as much as he cared for her. Such a tragedy and a waste.
“What did you do to be sent to prison?” I asked.
“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. A riot started at a mine where I worked. Conditions were terrible and the pay poor. Many resented it and some decided to take action one night after drinking too much. They stormed the manager’s office, broke windows and furniture, and stole some of the gold. Although I didn’t participate, I was nearby when it happened, and was identified.”
“How could they identify you when you didn’t do anything?”
He shrugged. “That’s the way it is when these things happen. Whenever there’s chaos, witnesses become unreliable.”
“Why didn’t you fight the charge?” Celia cried. Tears shone in her eyes, but I’d wager they were tears of anger and frustration, because those were precisely the emotions warring within me.
“How can you be so…so calm about it all?” I asked.
Louis shrugged again. “Sydney’s justice system is worse than London’s. The wheels grind slowly, and a witness is a witness. I could not prove I wasn’t there, so his testimony stood. It’s not his fault. He had no malicious intent. It was an honest mistake and I’ve forgiven him for it. Especially considering whom I met in jail. It wasn’t all bad in the end.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense!” I said when he didn’t go on.
He smiled. “I met Harry in prison. He was the man who would become my business partner. We became good friends, perhaps because we were both innocent. Harry was wrongly convicted of theft by his own brother-in-law. In his case, the witness was malicious and deliberately gave false evidence. His brother-in-law wanted Harry out of the way so he could manage their joint business and reap all the profit. They had a large shop in the center of Sydney where they sold all sorts of things from haberdashery to groceries. When we both completed our jail terms, we decided to leave Sydney and start a similar shop in Melbourne in the south. That was two years ago and I return to London a prosperous man now.”
“And a free one,” I said, grinning. “Goodness, what a tale! Oh, what about the time you saved a man’s life? Was that Harry?”
“Ah, that,” he said, turning gloomy. “There was another prisoner with us who wasn’t on good terms with anyone.” He glanced at Cara and I suspected he was tempering his story for her sake. “Harry accidentally knocked the other prisoner’s plate over during mealtime. He set upon Harry and would have killed him if I hadn’t stepped in. The prisoner died some hours later in the infirmary from his injuries.” He lowered his head. “That’s another thing I’ve regretted every day since,” he said quietly.
“But it was in self-defense.”
“It still weighs heavily on my conscience.”
“I’m sure your friend is glad you were there,” Celia murmured. “You should not regret an action that saves another, better man. Emily called you noble.” She lifted her chin. “I agree with her.”
“Thank you. That means more to me than…well, than most things.”
“I have a very brave brother,” Cara said. “Tell me more about New South Wales. Is it very wild?”<
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“Much of it, yes. Victoria too. That’s the colony in the south where I live now. Melbourne is its main center and a bustling, lively place it is these days. There is so much vibrancy there, so much hope. You can see it in the new buildings going up all over the place and in the eyes of the people too. I would love you to see it. All of you.”
“Can we go, Celia?” Cara said. “Can we? Pleeeease.”
“Absolutely not! The colonies are on the other side of the world. The voyage alone could kill you.”
“Celia,” Louis said, “don’t dampen her enthusiasm. The voyage is not so bad if you can afford a decent cabin on the ship. And I can afford it.”
Celia stood and held her hand out to Cara. “Don’t be ridiculous. Our lives are here. No one is moving to the end of the world. London suits us perfectly. We have a thriving business of our own here and we cannot abandon it.”
The strain in her voice was faint, but it was there. I doubted Louis would have heard it, not knowing that our business was in trouble. I certainly did, loud and clear.
“Come, girls, time for dinner. Good night, Mr. Moreau.”
I gave Louis an apologetic wince. “I tend to agree with Celia,” I said. “Our lives are here.”
“There’s nothing for us there.” Celia might as well have driven the point home with a blunt axe, so brutal were her words.
I am there, Louis might have said. But he did not. He stood and gave a shallow bow. “I won’t keep you from your dinner. Good night, ladies.” He let himself out.
Celia waited for the sound of the front door closing then walked off, her strides long and purposeful. I thought she’d gone to the dining room, but when Cara and I entered, she wasn’t there.
“Why won’t she even think about going to New South Wales or Victoria or wherever it is?” Cara asked. “She didn’t even let him tell us about his house or nothing!”
“I don’t know.” My sister was certainly not herself to behave so rudely to a guest. “Perhaps she’s still upset on Mama’s behalf. Louis did leave her behind, with no word, and now she’s gone he can never make amends.”
Lucy entered carrying a tureen. “Mr. Moreau didn’t stay for dinner?”
“No.”
“I wish he were my father,” Cara said. “Then I’d go with him to the colonies.”
I kissed her forehead. “Then I would miss you greatly, my little aunt.”
***
It was difficult not to summon Jacob. I desperately wanted to know if he was still in the Waiting Area. But part of me was too afraid of discovering that he was not, and the other part was afraid that summoning him would weaken him. I couldn’t bear it if I were the cause of further pain, yet I could hardly bear not seeing him.
It was a hint of how the rest of my life would be. Alone. Jacob gone forever, never to return.
I did not like it.
George arrived in the morning to take me back to Grosvenor Street where he’d left Theo watching the house. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, rather than just one night. His clothes were crumpled, his jaw lined with stubble and his eyes red-rimmed.
“Oh George,” I said on a sigh. “Spending the night in the coach wasn’t quite as much fun as you’d hoped, was it?”
He removed his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “It was a living nightmare. I froze to death, my left leg went numb, and I cannot turn my head further than…” He turned to the right and winced. “Further than that. To top it off, Hyde slept like a baby. He snores, by the way. I think that’s something you should know if you’re planning on marrying him.”
I tried to stifle a laugh but it escaped as a snort. “How fortunate that you’re a gentleman and not a woodsman or soldier. You would be quite miserable sleeping out of doors or in a tent.” I leaned across the gap between us and fixed his crooked necktie. “You cannot even dress yourself.”
He stretched his neck out of his collar. “Thank you. I admit I’m lost without my valet.”
“So did anything happen? Did Mrs. White leave the house?”
“No. I wish she had. The excitement would have given us something to do. As it was, we were bored out of our minds. Well, I was. Hyde managed to sleep for hours.”
We arrived at Grosvenor Square on the opposite side to Grosvenor Street so as not to be seen. Dew glistened on leaves and grass as the sun peeped demurely through the gaps between the buildings in the east. Carts rattled past, stopping at each house to make deliveries or for the driver to talk to the maids sweeping the steps. There were no ladies or gentlemen out at such an early hour. Only those with work to do had to be up early, and the owners of the houses surrounding Grosvenor Square did not need to work.
Our carriage pulled up near Theo. He leaned against the fence enclosing Grosvenor Square, his arms and ankles crossed, his gaze intent on number twelve just visible through the trees. The laconic pose suited his boyish handsomeness and my stomach did a little dip when he saw me and smiled. To think, he was courting me, a nobody with a very un-English heritage and strange line of trade.
“Good morning,” he said, climbing into the carriage. He rubbed his gloved hands together and eyed the basket I’d set beside me. “If that’s what I think it is, I’ll have to kiss you, Emily Chambers.”
“Steady on,” George warned.
“It’s Lucy’s doing,” I said. “Perhaps you should kiss her.”
“I’ll kiss Culvert if there’s hot tea in there.”
“Lucky George.” I lifted the cloth covering the basket and pulled out a teapot that Lucy had packed firmly into the corner so it wouldn’t move. “There is indeed warm tea. And bread, cheese, and cold beef.”
The two men ate their breakfast as if they’d never tasted anything so good, while I watched the house. The gap in the trees gave me the perfect view of the wide colonnaded façade, including the entrance to the basement service area. If Mrs. White left the house without her charges, she would exit that way.
By mid-morning, the sun had burned off the dew. George slept quietly in the corner, his glasses in his lap. I told Theo about my evening with my father without taking my gaze off the mansion.
“I’m glad he accepted your…talent,” he said. “I know how important it is to you.”
“It is, and he did, thank goodness. I’m not sure how I would have reacted if he’d been more like Lord Preston.”
“Your father seems like quite the remarkable man.”
“That’s not all.” I told him how Louis had been to jail, saved a man’s life, and was now a successful businessman in Melbourne. “He’s made something of himself there. I’m very pleased for him.”
When he didn’t answer me, I turned to look at him. “What is it?”
“I…I was simply wondering if you were thinking of returning to Melbourne with him.”
“No! Of course not. I couldn’t leave London.”
He flicked his fingernail with his thumb, over and over, a nervous habit he seemed to have just acquired. “Not even if your business fails?”
“It won’t fail. It can’t. I won’t consider it.”
George sat up at that moment and rubbed his eyes. “Wh…what’s happened?” He fumbled for his glasses and put them on. “Is Mrs. White leaving?” He squinted through the window. “Good lord, look who it is!”
“Who?” I asked, peering past him.
“Miss Beaufort.” He fiddled with his tie, smoothed down his hair, and clapped his hat on his head. “How do I look?”
Like he hadn’t been home all night. “Very handsome. Is she alone?”
“Her mother is with her.” He opened the door and greeted them. I climbed out behind him, Theo at my heels.
We exchanged pleasantries and since George had gone all quiet, it was left to me to explain why we were loafing in the carriage at Grosvenor Square.
“She’s in number twelve, you say?” Lady Preston said when I’d finished. “That’s Lord and Lady Montgomery’s house.”
“You know them?”<
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“Quite well. This Mrs. White…you truly think she’s Mrs. Seymour?”
“Jacob is convinced of it, as am I. I wish she’d make a move today. This waiting is very hard on our nerves. Well, it’s been harder on Theo and George. They’ve been here all night.”
“All night!” Adelaide took a step closer to George and raised her hand as if she would touch the stubble on his chin, but she did not. Her mother cleared her throat, and Adelaide’s fist returned to her side. She looked down at her walking boots.
George’s face turned red and he made a great show of watching the mansion. Theo seemed not to be aware of the conversation at all. He was staring into the distance at a group of ladies clustered at the corner.
“It’s been quite some weeks since I’ve visited Lady Montgomery,” Lady Preston said. “I think it’s time I paid her a call.” She stamped the point of her parasol onto the road. “I have a sudden interest in governesses. Come, Adelaide.” Lady Preston walked off, using her parasol as a walking stick, not that she needed a crutch. “Our other call can wait.”
Adelaide pulled a face. “I’m supposed to be seeing Bertie and the Duchess of Sandridge,” she whispered to us. “Talking about governesses will be far more entertaining.” She trotted after her mother, glancing over her shoulder at George twice.
He sighed. “She looks particularly lovely today. That jacket is very fetching on her neat figure and I do like the addition of all those ruffles.”
“I had no idea you were an admirer of ladies fashion,” I teased.
“Only the fashion of one particular lady.” His blush deepened.
“Will you two excuse me for the rest of the day,” Theo suddenly said. He sounded distracted, and I don’t think he’d heard any of the conversation. “I seem to have developed a slight headache, and I have classes to attend today.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course,” I said. “You mustn’t miss any more lectures. We’ll manage without you.”
He took my hand and bowed over it. “Good luck, and be careful. Culvert, I’m relying on you to protect her if necessary.”
“Never fear,” George said with a deep breath that puffed out his chest. “I packed the dueling pistols. They’re under the seat.”