Peccadillo at the Palace

by Kari Bovee

  The matron’s face shined with pride. “Yes. The doctors here feel it is beneficial for the patients to be industrious on a daily basis. We have a rigorous schedule with morning meals, exercise, and bathing. Then we send the patients outdoors. The air is very healing, you know. The food grown here is used in our kitchens, and we give of our abundance to the poor. We believe nothing must go to waste. This type of activity makes the patients feel like they are contributing to society, instead of wasting away in a hospital.”

  As they neared one of the small plots, Annie recognized Miss Parnell seated in a white wicker rocker, watching Becky work the soil with a three-pronged hand cultivator. Miss Parnell looked up at their approach, but Miss Brady continued with her digging.

  Annie was struck with alarm at the dark half-moons under Miss Parnell’s eyes. The woman looked as if she hadn’t slept in weeks.

  “Miss Parnell, it’s so good to see you.” Annie knelt down next to the rocker.

  Miss Parnell glanced at her and then turned away. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to see you and Miss Brady. To apologize for my mistake. I am so terribly sorry.” Annie pivoted on her heel to face Becky, but the girl continued to work the soil.

  “She’s been like this for a week now,” Miss Parnell said, an edge to her voice. “She doesn’t respond to anyone, except me, on occasion. If she were at home with me, she’d improve. I know it.”

  Annie stood and walked over to Becky. She knelt next to her in the dirt.

  “Becky—Miss Brady. It’s Annie. I am so sorry if I caused you any distress. I hope you will be feeling better soon.”

  To her surprise, Becky turned and looked directly into Annie’s eyes.

  “He did it. He sent me here,” she said, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

  “Did she speak?” Miss Parnell leaned forward, the fringe of her shawl sweeping the ground as she stood up. She knelt down next to her daughter, who continued working. “Oh, my dear girl, you’ve come back to me.”

  “Who, Becky? Who are you talking about?” Annie asked. “Miss Oakley, must you persist? This is a breakthrough. Don’t set her back again with memories of the—”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Parnell, but the killer is still at large. People are in danger.” Annie tried to reason with her.

  “He did it, I tell you. He wanted me to be quiet. So I am quiet. I don’t tell.” Becky looked up at Annie.

  “Who told you to be quiet?” Annie asked.

  Becky stood up and her mother held her by the shoulders. “The doctor. He hates the Fenians. I am born of a Fenian. My mother is of the Fenians. We must fight for our land. Our rights. He did this,” Becky said.

  “Are you speaking of Dr. Adams?”

  “The doctor.”

  “Becky, I must know. Do you speak of Dr. Adams?”

  “Miss Oakley, I implore you.”

  Becky shook free of her mother’s grasp and knelt down, turning her attention again to her gardening.

  Annie stood up and stepped away from the girl. “Do you think she is talking about Dr. Adams?”

  “I don’t know.” Miss Parnell wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “After we left the ship, she saw many doctors. Many before we came here. I was in such a state when they took her away, I—I have left my life of public service and only wish to be left alone.” Miss Parnell’s gaze fell away from Annie’s.

  “I understand your brother has been imprisoned for his alleged participation in the Phoenix Park murders. Do you know anything about this?”

  “Why do you persist?” Miss Parnell looked into Annie’s eyes with exasperation.

  “Because I made a mistake, and I’m trying to make things right, Miss Parnell. Surely, you want to see justice done.”

  “How will that justice make my daughter better?”

  “I don’t know, but you seem to be a woman of character. If you have any information that could help me or the police—”

  “I’ve told the police everything I know. They don’t believe me because of my former association with the Fenians.” Miss Parnell looked away from Annie, her gaze settling on her daughter.

  “I would like to understand,” Annie said.

  The silence grew between them. Finally, Miss Parnell sighed, shaking her head. “I have nothing to do with my brother anymore, Miss Oakley—it is no longer my concern.”

  “I would like to know more about the Irish who are so unhappy with the queen. You are obviously well versed in the subject. We saw many people at Trafalgar square protesting Mr. Gladstone and the queen. Do these protesters support your brother and his efforts?”

  Miss Parnell made her way over to her chair and sat. “Many do. But there are so many other factions of unhappy people. It is not only the Irish who are unhappy with the queen, but many of her own countrymen.”

  “Do you think your brother is guilty of this Phoenix Park crime? Do you think he might have something to do with the threat to the queen?”

  Miss Parnell looked pointedly into Annie’s eyes. “My brother is very passionate about the cause, but he would never murder.”

  Annie held her gaze. “But would you?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Miss Parnell appraised Annie without flinching, her eyes cold. “Miss Oakley, I do not believe getting rid of the queen will help the plight of the Irish. She is just a figurehead in matters of politics. Her prime minister, Mr. Gascoyne-Cecil, and her cabinet are the real forces behind the Crown, just as Mr. Gladstone was. My focus now is my daughter. I hope to bring her back to health so we may live our lives in peace.”

  “I understand. I apologize for the question, but I had to ask.” Annie placed her hand on Miss Parnell’s shoulder. She understood the need to protect family over one’s own welfare. Hadn’t she done the same time and time again? She knew she had to leave Miss Brady and Miss Parnell in peace, but there were still some things she had to know.

  “Miss Parnell, as I mentioned when Miss Wilson and I spoke with you and Miss Brady on the ship, I’d found a vial, a tear catcher. It’s very beautiful, with gold etching. Your daughter’s fingerprints were on it. Had you ever seen anything like that?” Annie wondered if the smaller fingerprints she had found on the tear catcher could belong to Miss Parnell.

  “I’m finished answering questions, Miss Oakley. If you don’t mind, I’d like my daughter to garden in peace.”

  “If you could just answer the question.”

  Miss Parnell remained silent.

  “Perhaps I can help you with her case,” Annie said.

  “How can you help me?”

  “I can speak to the police again. I can assure them that your association with the Fenians is over. I can advocate on your behalf.”

  Miss Parnell put her hands to her temples and sat down again. After a moment she turned her face up to Annie. “What do you want to know?”

  “About the vial, the tear catcher.”

  Miss Parnell’s brow rose. “Yes. Before she stopped talking, Becky mentioned something about it. She said she found it on the gangway as we boarded the ship—we figured it had fallen out of someone’s trunk, or perhaps a pocket. Becky picked it up. The police didn’t believe her.”

  “What did Becky do with the tear catcher?”

  “She placed it in a box labeled ‘lost and found’ on the ship.”

  Then how did it end up in the refrigeration hold? “Why do you ask, Miss Oakley? And what has this to do with the doctor?”

  Annie blinked away her musings and focused on Miss Parnell’s question.

  “Someone has threatened to kill the queen. If it is Dr. Adams Becky is talking of, she obviously feels he has something to hide. Is there any reason Dr. Adams would want your daughter put away? Any reason at all?”

  Miss Parnell turned away from Annie and stared off into the distance. The silence grew. Just as Annie was about to repeat the question, Miss Parnell turned back to face her.

  “Dr. Adams is Irish—and he despises the q
ueen.”

  Annie’s heart flipped. “How do you know this?”

  “I didn’t, until we were brought here. One of my brother’s associates, a Mr. Shaunessey, is also receiving care here. He immediately recognized Dr. Adams on one of his visits. Apparently, Dr. Adams and Mr. Shaunessey had been on opposite ends of an argument during a Protestant protest in Ireland.”

  “But what does that have to do with the queen?”

  “Dr. Adams opposes Catholic freedoms in Ireland. You know, he is of the Order of the Orange.”

  “The ribbon. Yes. I saw the ribbon he wears pinned to his lapel.”

  “The order is fiercely Protestant. They formed when William of Orange defeated the Catholic King James in the Battle of the Boyne in 1690. The Orangemen feel that the queen has let the Catholics in Ireland run riot. Apparently, Dr. Adams’s mother was killed in a house fire caused by the Catholic faction for independence. He blames the queen.”

  “Oh, dear.” Annie’s mind whirled with this new information. So her suspicions about Dr. Adams had not been unfounded. The man had a bias against the queen because of the death of his mother. Annie remembered the portrait of his mother hanging in his office on the ship. Could he have lied about the amount of viper venom he had on board? Could he be Bhakta’s killer? If so, wouldn’t it be have been convenient for him to keep quiet when Annie accused Becky Brady?

  Matron Dixon walked toward them. “It’s time for Miss Brady to take some rest,” she said, her eyes crinkling with her wide smile.

  “Thank you for this information, Miss Parnell. Again, I am sorry for any distress I may have caused you and your daughter. I will do my best to convince the police of her innocence. I hope she becomes well again, soon.”

  “I do, too.” Miss Parnell held a handkerchief to her mouth. “She is everything I have now. Everything to live for. I will stay with her until she is well, or until. . . .” Miss Parnell turned her face away.

  Matron Dixon leaned over Becky. “Miss Brady, it’s time to come in. We have some tea and cakes waiting for you inside.”

  Becky placed her gardening tools in a canvas bag at her feet, and then stood up, handing the bag to Matron Dixon. Miss Parnell took Becky’s arm and led her away.

  At the entrance to the hospital, Annie climbed into the carriage and told the driver to head back to the grounds at Earl’s Court. She stared out the window, her mind whirling with this new information about Dr. Adams.

  Overwhelmed by her thoughts, she set them aside and let her mind drift. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Since they had arrived in London, Annie had not had the time or the ease of mind to enjoy this once in a lifetime opportunity. She decided to put all her efforts into releasing her worries, so she could at least enjoy the sights and sounds of the city during this carriage ride.

  Were a few brief minutes of peace and happiness too much to ask for?

  People from all walks of life teemed in the streets. The air, thick with smoke, left a haze in the sky, but the people seemed unaffected as they bustled to their destinations or strolled looking into shop windows.

  As they passed one of the larger hotels, Annie’s gaze settled on a woman walking a few feet ahead of her, wearing a red, tattered coat. Could it be Gail Tessen? The woman walked at a fast clip and then suddenly stopped. She turned her head toward the carriage, looking to cross the street, but Annie couldn’t see her face clearly. Where was she going in such a hurry?

  Annie pulled on the bell, signaling the driver to stop.

  He leaned his head body back toward the window. “Ma’am?”

  “Follow that woman in the red coat,” Annie instructed him.

  “Aye!” he said.

  The carriage turned to go down the street the woman had taken, but then stopped again. “What is it?” Annie called out, leaning her head out the window. “Follow that woman!”

  “Got an overturned cart in front of us.”

  Annie was about to open the door to get out and tell the driver to wait for her, when the carriage started to move again. Annie could see the red coat in the distance. They followed her for some time and then the woman turned, crossing the street again to take a different road.

  In minutes, they ended up at Trafalgar Square. The woman hurried past the monument, folks camping there watching her walk past. She headed down a narrow street—too narrow for the carriage. The driver leaned toward the window again.

  “That’s as far as I can go,” he said. “Do you want to get out?”

  Annie watched as the woman stopped at a doorway, looked in both directions as if worried about being followed, and entered the dwelling.

  “No,” Annie said. “We can return to the grounds.”

  She settled back into the seat as the carriage turned and headed back the way they had come.

  “If that’s Miss Tessen, what is she up to?” Annie wondered aloud. Miss Tessen had told her she’d no place to stay, so whose house had she entered? Perhaps she was visiting a friend—a friend who had no room for her. Maybe she was running an errand for someone, like Mr. Post, although Annie couldn’t imagine what the errand could be.

  In truth, there could be any number of reasons Miss Tessen had left the grounds to visit the dwelling. And in truth, it really wasn’t any of Annie’s business.

  But when had that ever stopped her?

  When Annie arrived back at her tent, she found Frank dressed and reading the paper.

  “There you are,” he said. “Nate was looking for you. He wants to do another practice before your performance tomorrow. I thought I would go with you. See how the course is set up. Where have you been?”

  Annie told him she’d gone to see Miss Parnell and Miss Brady. She didn’t tell him anything else. He looked wretched.

  “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  “I need to get out of bed.”

  Annie knew his inactivity was contributing to his disheartened spirits. Although she worried about him, it might be good for him to get out. She looked at the watch pinned to a ribbon on her chest and sighed. She would be late for practice.

  After slipping into her tan buckskin skirt and white cotton blouse, she buttoned her knee-length leather gaiters over her boots, retrieved her guns, and dashed out of the tent, calling to Frank that she would see him at the practice arena.

  When she arrived back at the barn, Buck was groomed and saddled, and Miss Tessen was securing the bridle over his ears. Annie saw no sign of the red coat. If it had been Miss Tessen she’d seen in the streets, how had she returned so quickly? Could she have made her way back shortly after Annie had seen her—and gotten Buck ready as Annie dressed?

  Mr. Post stood some distance away, leaning against a fence railing, watching the young woman’s every move. Annie knew he didn’t like that she had hired Miss Tessen, and she also knew if Miss Tessen made even the slightest error, she would never hear the end of it. Annie had to give him credit, though, for his diligent concern about her and her horse.

  “Mr. Post, how did she do?” Annie walked up to him, securing her gun belts around her waist.

  “Did all right. Knows a horse, that’s for sure.” Mr. Post spit some chaw on the ground.

  “Was she here the whole time I was gone?”

  “She finished cleaning Buck’s stall and your tack pretty quickly. I told her to go cool her heels for a while.”

  “Oh. Do you know where she went?”

  “Nope.” He picked up a bucket at his feet. “I gotta go see if the colonel’s horse needs any water. Are you good here?”

  “Yes, thank you, Mr. Post.”

  “Miss Tessen?” Annie asked as she approached Buck. “Did I see you in town earlier?”

  “Me? No. I’ve been right here on the grounds.”

  Could she have been mistaken? She could swear she had seen Miss Tessen in town.

  “He looks quite handsome,” Annie said, still distracted with the image of the woman in the red coat walking past Trafalgar Square.

  Buck
nickered at her, and she slipped him a sugar cube she’d stashed in her pocket. She then checked the position of the saddle, the tightness of the girth, and the position of the bridle. All looked in order.

  “Nice work.”

  “Thank you,” said Miss Tessen. “I’ve missed working with horses. It’s so soothing for the soul.”

  “Don’t I know it!” Annie could already feel her muscles relax and the tightness in her chest subside as she stroked Buck’s neck. He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly.

  She loved that she brought him peace, as he did for her. She felt like she’d been holding her breath for days. Even the persistent, low grade nausea had subsided. Thoughts of pregnancy slipped into her awareness, but she pushed them aside. She didn’t want anything to ruin her time with Buck. She had to be focused for practice.

  As she was about to mount, she saw Lillie, Bobby, and Hulda walking toward her. Lillie’s ensemble included buckskin trousers, a pistol belt, a man’s shirt and suspenders, and a beat-up hat that looked like it had come from the garbage bin. It severely contrasted with the makeup she’d caked on her face. From the neck up, she looked like a parlor girl, and from the neck down, she resembled a cowboy.

  Odd as Lillie looked, she was nothing compared to Hulda. Her sister looked like a parlor girl all the way around: eyelids coated with coal-dark shadow, rouge like two ripe apples, and lips the color of blood. Hulda all too much resembled a lady of the evening. The black, laced trim neckline of the dress she wore showed considerably more bosom than Annie wanted to see. The hem barely reached her knees, exposing her stockings and lace-up ankle boots. Much to Annie’s annoyance, Bobby was grinning like a fool, never taking his eyes off her baby sister.

  “Hulda, what are you wearing?” Annie tried to keep the anger out of her voice. She remembered her last skirmish with her sister and didn’t want to go there again. She would have to tread lightly, but still get her point across.

  Hulda placed her hands on her hips. “A dress, silly.”