by Lisa Campell
Now they just had to wait for her, and while the day was a nice one with the weather being warm and the park was very pretty to look at, Emilia was getting impatient. She wanted this to hurry along so she could start searching for more answers, but there was only so much she could do before she had to step back and let things take its course. And Emilia didn’t like it.
It had been nearly three weeks since her father’s death. And Andrews was still walking around. That shouldn’t be permitted any longer, and Constable Bowers was merely going through the motions. He wasn’t doing anything; Emilia knew that much. So, she had to do it herself.
“You are mad, you know that?”
Emilia turned to Charlotte, who was sitting on a bench while Emilia paced around on the path.
“What?”
“You’re meant to be in mourning and instead you’re lying in wait for Lady Margaret hoping to get close to her son so you can find something to show he killed your father.” Charlotte frowned. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous this sounds, and what you’re risking when you’re found out?”
“When I’m found out?” Emilia snorted. “I’m not going to be found out. I’m going to get the answers I need. If the man’s innocent, there’s no harm done, and I can slip back out of his life again.”
Charlotte stared at her. “Do you really hear yourself? You’ve already made up your mind. Even if you find nothing, you’ll be certain that he’s guilty anyway.” She looked away. “If you end up in a sanatorium after this, I will not be coming to visit you because all I will be saying is ‘I told you so’.”
Emilia glared at her friend. Charlotte was still against this, and she had been trying to talk Emilia out of this for the past three days. But Emilia was steadfast. She knew what she wanted to do, and it was going to happen. She was going to find out what was going on.
“I have to try something, Charlotte.” Emilia pressed a hand to her belly, her stomach churning. “Something is not right about this, and I want answers. The only way I’m going to get it is to get close to the man everyone says is responsible.”
“You have answers to your father’s death. You just don’t like them.” Charlotte looked away. “I can’t believe I agreed to do this.”
“You’re doing this because you love me.”
“Lately, I’ve been doubting that.” Charlotte looked up. Then she sat up and nodded towards the other side of the park. “That’s Lady Margaret now.”
Emilia turned. From where they were, they could see the huge vast of space that was the park outside the village Charlotte lived in. Lady Margaret lived not too far away, and she was known to take a walk every morning. She was a very healthy woman and very sociable; it was known that a forty-five-minute walk could turn into three hours if she got talking to people. Lady Margaret was also a staunch supporter of her son, so while Emilia wasn’t about to take her word as gospel regarding Andrews, she knew she would be the best choice in getting her son to listen.
Chapter Six
The tall, dark haired woman wearing pale blue had appeared in the entrance to the park. She seemed to be arguing with a younger woman, who’s jet-black hair was curled into tight ringlets around her face. It was uncommon to see such a public argument, and Emilia had to admire the way Lady Margaret drew herself up to her full height and scolded the other woman. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but there was a lot of finger-waving and the younger woman was starting to ease back with a look of fear.
Lady Margaret was certainly something to behold.
“Who’s that with her?”
Charlotte glanced at her with a slight smile.
“I thought you’d met Lady Evelyn Wilson before.”
“I have, but I’ve never seen her looking like that.” Emilia squinted as she took in Lady Wilson’s appearance. “Her hair is different, and she looks a bit more...fuller-figured.”
“Fuller-figured?” Charlotte made a sound that could only be described as fighting back a giggle. “Are you implying something, Emilia?”
“It’s just an observation.”
Emilia wasn’t even sure if that was the case. She just looked at Evelyn Wilson and saw a completely different person. Not that Emilia took the time to look the other woman up and down; she made a point of keeping her distance, especially with the way Lady Wilson treated other people, especially younger women. She had the ability to make you feel very small with just a sniff and a turn-up of her nose. Emilia had no time for people like that.
The rumours about her were that Lady Wilson was obsessed with Thomas Andrews and she wanted to be his wife. Emilia had no idea why any woman would want to be with a man like Andrews, but even Andrews wanted nothing to do with her. That was his only saving grace, in Emilia’s eyes.
It wasn’t going to get him into her good books, though. Not by a long shot.
From the look of it, Lady Margaret had no time for people like Lady Wilson, either. She was scolding the woman, leaving Lady Wilson scowling like a petulant child. Then Lady Margaret turned and strode away, the younger woman staring after her in complete bewilderment. She shouted something after Lady Margaret, but the widow kept walking.
Emilia tugged Charlotte to her feet and began to edge her along the path.
“Come on, Charlotte.”
“Slow down, please!” Charlotte staggered before getting her balance. “You don’t need to throw me around like a rag doll.”
“You said you would introduce me.”
Charlotte sighed. “And I wish I hadn’t.”
“It’s the least you can do.” Emilia pointed out. “You don’t need to be further involved.”
“That’s the problem.” Charlotte muttered as Emilia tugging her into motion. “I’m already involved too much.”
Emilia ignored her friend and they made their way down the path. Charlotte managed to fall in step with her friend and Emilia linked her arm through Charlotte’s. This felt like when they were younger and went for long walks together. Nowadays, Peter would join them, and while Emilia liked Peter, she wanted time alone with her closest friend. Selfish? Probably, but with people she cared about dwindling, Emilia wanted to keep what she had.
Lady Margaret was reaching the fork in the path right in front of them. Charlotte glanced at Emilia with a wary look, and then she turned back with a bright smile and a wave.
“Lady Margaret, good day.”
Lady Margaret turned. It took her a moment to focus, and then she was giving them a warm smile that Emilia felt all the way down to her toes. She had such a lovely smile, and it lit up her whole face.
“Mrs. Chambers! Good morning.” She reached out and clasped Charlotte’s hand. “How are you faring? I understand you went to help with a family friend after a loss. Is that friend doing all right?”
“She’s doing well enough.” Charlotte glanced at Emilia. “It’s going to take her a while to recover from losing her father.”
“That’s understandable.” Lady Margaret sighed. “I remember when I lost my husband. You don’t quite recover, but you do learn to live with the grief. My son says it’s mellowed me out; now I understand life is more tenuous than I realised.”
Emilia bit back a retort. She would not make a comment, not now.
“I think she’s going to manage the grief...given the circumstances.” Charlotte’s cheeks flushed and she hurried on. “This is my friend, Emilia...Perry. She’s come to stay with me for a while. Emilia, this is Lady Margaret Andrews.”
They had decided on Perry so Emilia could get closer to Andrews. If she used her real name, he wouldn’t entertain her at all. But her mother’s maiden name? Nobody was going to bat an eyelid. Emilia could only hope that she didn’t bump into anyone who knew her to give the plan away.
Or that Charlotte gave her away.
Emilia dropped into a curtsy.
“Lady Margaret.”
“Miss Perry.” Lady Margaret nodded in return. “I trust you’re well this morning?”
“Perfectly
well, given the circumstances.” Emilia straightened up. “And it’s actually Mrs. Perry. I’m a widow.”
“Oh.” The older woman blinked. “Forgive me.”
“It’s fine.” Emilia looked down at her clothes. She had been wearing black since the day before the funeral, and it still felt surreal. “It’s been a few months since he…well, since he passed. I don’t think it’s quite sunk in.”
The other woman softened. Her eyes seemed to be sympathising as she smiled at Emilia.
“I understand perfectly, my dear. It wasn’t until I was out of mourning for my husband that it really had any clarity. Losing someone you love with all your heart is hard.”
Emilia wholeheartedly agreed. Just merely thinking about her father was enough to build a lump in her throat and she knew she was going to start crying again in a moment. She swallowed and looked away.
Charlotte chimed in, subtly stepping on Emilia’s foot.
“Actually, Lady Margaret, seeing as we’ve run into you, I thought you might be able to help Mrs... Perry.” She hurried on as the older woman arched an eyebrow. “She’s looking for work. Her husband didn’t leave her any provisions in his will that would allow for her, and the allowance she gets from her brother-in-law is measly, to say the least. Barely anything to last on. I was wondering if you would be able to suggest somewhere Mrs. Perry could seek employment?”
“I see.” Lady Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t have any provisions at all in your husband’s will?”
“No.” Emilia shook her head. “I’ve nothing now, and I must swallow my pride and look for work to sustain myself. My allowance is practically non-existent, and I’m not about to go and beg my in-laws for more.”
She and Charlotte had agreed on this beforehand. Women could be left something in a will, but it was common enough practice for a man not to leave his wife anything once he passed or they would be left something but in the care of another relative. Emilia had never understood that, not until her father had done it to her. How could a man who claimed to love those in his family treat them in such a way? Emilia put that aside. Not now. Rage about it later.
“I see.” Lady Margaret still looked sceptical, but she didn’t push it further. “What sort of work were you thinking of, Mrs. Perry?”
“Anything, really.” Emilia shrugged. “Chaperone, companion, governess, I’ll do it.”
Emilia was not being entirely untruthful, she knew Uncle Christian was under instructions to put her on an allowance, but she doubted she would see any of the money. He would just drink or gamble it away. Nothing left for her after all that.
She pushed the resentment aside. Not the time.
Lady Margaret was still regarding her thoughtfully. Then she smiled and beckoned Emilia and Charlotte to follow her.
“Come with me, Mrs. Perry. Mrs. Chambers. I think we need to have a long talk about this.”
“Father!”
Thomas jumped and looked up. Anna was standing in front of him with a scowl, hands on her hips wearing an outlandish outfit over her dress. Thomas sat up.
“Hmm? What?”
“You were supposed to be watching!” Anna stamped her foot. “I wanted you to see what I’ve put together, and you’re not reacting to it.”
“Oh.”
Thomas inwardly cursed himself. He had been dragged into the library to watch Anna put on a show for him. She loved to perform and was very proud of what she could create. The girl was a natural actress. Normally, Thomas watched and found himself enjoying it all, but instead he had been thinking about everything other than his daughter.
Sighing, he reached for Anna and tugged her onto his lap.
“Forgive me, sweetheart.” He hugged her close. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now. It’s...complicated.”
“I see.” Anna sounded dubious. “Is it Lady Wilson again?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you always have that look on your face whenever you’ve been around her.” Anna rubbed at Thomas’ forehead. “You look like you’re about to lose your temper. What’s happened, Father?”
“It’s fine.” Thomas chuckled when he saw Anna’s sceptical look. Just like the one her mother used to give him when she didn’t believe him. “Really. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Why can’t I be worried?”
“You’re only twelve. You shouldn’t need to.”
Anna pouted. “You can’t stop me from being worried.”
“I know.”
But at her age, Anna shouldn’t need to be worrying about anything except being a child. Those were years nobody would be able to get back, and Thomas wanted her to enjoy those younger years. She shouldn’t have to shoulder any responsibility.
Besides, if she did Anna would more than likely end up with a stronger headache.
There was the sound of footsteps and Thomas looked up. His mother was coming through the door, her hair still wet. It had started raining in the last half-hour, and now it was battering the windows. Margaret looked like she had been caught in it.
He couldn’t help but laugh as his mother shook out her hair and water dripped onto the floor.
“You look like you’ve been swimming, Mother.”
“I feel like I’ve been swimming.” Margaret wiped the water out of her eyes. “That was unexpected. Thank goodness I got inside before it got too bad.”
“Grandmother!”
Anna jumped off Thomas’ lap, her elbow jabbing into Thomas’ stomach as she scrambled off and ran to her grandmother. Margaret smiled as she hugged the girl, pressing a kiss to her head. Anna drew back and made a face.
“You smell funny!”
“That’s what happens when you get stuck in the rain, I’m afraid.” Margaret looked her up and down. “What on earth are you doing dressed up like that? I thought you were good at getting dressed in the morning.”
“Grandmother!” Anna pouted. “I was putting on a show for Father, but he wasn’t paying attention.”
Thomas winced. His mother’s eyes twinkled at him over Anna’s head.
“You can’t expect a man to show interest in a show, darling. I had a terrible time getting your father to be interested in the theatre.”
“You did take me to some very boring shows, Mother.”
“They’re only boring because you don’t like culture.” Margaret rested a hand on Anna’s head. “I tell you what, darling, I’ll watch your show. But let me speak with your father first. You can get things ready. Ten minutes?”
“All right.” Anna shot her father a glare. “But Father had better watch this time.”
Thomas groaned as his daughter left the room.
“I was paying attention, really.”
“You can’t get anything past her.” Margaret crossed the room and sat on the couch across from her son, wiping down her skirts. They were splattered with large raindrops. “She’s a lot brighter than you think.”
“I know that.” Thomas sat back and stretched his legs out, fighting back a yawn. “What did you want to speak to me about?”
“I might have a solution for your governess problem.”
Thomas stared. Margaret was smiling at him, a gleam in her eye. She had a plan, certainly. Thomas frowned.
“How so? And don’t say I must send Anna away because I’m not doing that.”
“I was never going to suggest that.” Margaret rolled her eyes. “I was out for a walk and I bumped into Charlotte Chambers.”
“Chambers.” It took a moment for the name to sound familiar. “Peter Chambers’ wife? I know her. She’s a nice woman.”
“She was out walking with her friend, a Mrs. Emilia Perry.” Margaret paused. “And her friend is looking for work.”
That got Thomas attention. He sat up.
“Did you just say a married woman of noble upbringing was looking for work?”
“She’s a widow, actually. Her husband left her with practically nothin
g, just an allowance controlled by a family member who gives her very little.” Margaret shrugged. “So Mrs. Perry is looking for work so she can look after herself.”
