by Beth Byers
“She sleeps too much,” Nanny said. “Mrs. Kate is much better behaved.”
Vi carefully placed the tiny Lily in the nanny’s hands and escaped before she commented too freely on that statement. She skipped down the servants’ stairs towards the next level. There were strawberry scones and Turkish coffee ahead, she told herself just as a door slammed.
Vi paused on the landing as the servants’ stairs door one level below opened. Before Vi could call a good morning, she heard a woman speaking in distress. “I know! I know!”
“We just need to think this through,” Mr. Russell said.
It was his voice that clued Violet in that the woman was Mrs. Forman. “I don’t want to have anything to do with this,” the woman argued, her voice cracking. “I can’t.”
“Lavinia,” Mr. Russell said with the same sort of calming tone that Jack used when Violet was well and truly walking the road to madness. “There are positives and negatives here. Something has to give, and I refuse for it to be you, me, or Izzy.”
“There has to be another way,” Mrs. Forman replied, sniffing hard as their footsteps descended, ending the door at the bottom of the stairs being closed.
What in the world had that been? Violet needed to have a heart-to-heart with Rita. The sense that something was wrong wouldn’t be mused away this time. It was possible that Rita knew what was happening and if she did not, she was the most likely person to help Vi get to answers. Violet waited until she was sure she was alone on the stairs and then she found her way to Rita’s room. Vi knocked on the door and heard some frantic shuffling before Rita slowly opened the door, revealing only her head.
“Oh Vi!” The relief in Rita’s tone was so distinct that Vi laughed.
“Jack is already dealing with the vicar, Ham.” Vi made sure her tone carried and Rita stared at Vi in horror.
“My father!” Rita hissed. “Vi, you devil!”
Vi’s wicked grin had Rita attacking Vi with a smack on the shoulder. Vi jumped back, laughing. “You’re safe! He just chased his lady down the stairs.”
“What?” Rita opened the door and Ham slipped across the hall and into his own bedroom. He was wearing yesterday’s suit with his tie hanging around his neck. The angle of his head and his close-cut beard hid his smile, but she caught the humor in his gaze.
Vi slipped into Rita’s room. “What the devil is going on with your father?” Vi demanded.
Rita paused and then said, “I don’t know for sure.” Rita had already bathed, given her wet hair and the towel turbaned around her head. She wore one of the kimonos that Vi had gifted to her and she left Vi to flip through her dresses.
Vi pulled out a pale blue dress. With Rita’s bright blue eyes, golden blonde hair, and peaches and cream skin that dress would set off her coloring as though it had been designed for her. Which, no doubt, it had.
“Give me a clue,” Vi said as she held the dress out to Rita. “I took Lily up to the nanny and found myself eavesdropping on the weeping Lavinia Forman and your father. I felt as though I had intruded, but my goodness. I was just coming down the stairs.”
Rita was putting her cosmetics on quickly while Vi explained what she’d seen in the hall as well as in the parlor the night of the awful dinner party.
“I don't know the details,” Rita said carefully.
“But—” Vi urged.
“When I first met Lavinia Forman, I believe Benedict Brantley was her lover. They just seemed…closer than a man should be with a widow.”
Vi’s jaw dropped.
Rita met Vi’s gaze without apology. “He can be charming when he isn’t determined to be terrible.”
“He brought his wife to chase his lover?” Vi demanded. “What a horrific rogue!”
Rita shrugged. “I’m not certain that is the reason he’s come. When I first started visiting Father, it was funny how one of the Brantley sons was always there. When I brought Ham, they acted as though he were interloping. Mind you, however, they pursue poor Delilah as fervently.”
“Their cousin?’
“The heiress. The Brantleys are well enough off. At about Denny’s level perhaps, but Delilah Brantley is as rich as Father.”
Vi sat down on the bed. “Why are Mina and Delilah putting up with the man then?”
“Because,” Rita snapped, “Dennis Brantley was a misogynistic fiend who locked up the money from the ladies. Delilah doesn’t get more than a low allowance until she marries.”
“Oh,” Vi’s gaze narrowed. “Same with the mother?”
Rita nodded. “Plus, if she marries again, the allowance is halted.”
Vi saw red at that and had to breathe through the rage before she was able to speak. “So, their loving father and husband saddled them with the brother who is…undesirable.”
“To be a little fair to Dennis, Mina is a bit useless. She was always making questionable choices in India. Mother despaired of her.”
Vi didn’t see that as a reason for the woman to be held captive to her brother-in-law. Vi sighed. “What about you and Ham? What’s the plan there?”
Rita snorted and then laughed. “Father tied up my money as tight as it could be.”
Vi grinned.
“Not that he has to. Ham is completely trustworthy. That being said, however, Father set him down, told him the way it would be, and Ham asked him to tie up the money even tighter.”
“So the Brantleys thought they had you and Delilah and they’re losing both?”
“Mmm,” Rita agreed. “Plus Father’s connections. Just because he’s retired doesn’t mean that Father doesn’t know everyone.”
Violet tapped her fingers together and considered. Jack had too much on his mind at the moment to be entirely happy with the distraction. The question was, however, should she throw the Brantleys out after the fête that day or should she let them linger around, causing trouble because it would distract Jack?
As Rita finished her lipstick, Vi determined to go and drag Lila out to the celebration. They could re-evaluate at the end of the day. Until then, however, Vi supposed she had better put on a hat and a smile. She paused in the doorway and asked, “Why did Ham decide to leave Scotland Yard?”
“My father suggested that it would be better that Ham learn how to help with the business stuff before Father died. Ham had been venting about a superior to Father and they had a long walk, a long talk, and then Ham said he was done at the Yard.”
“Jack is thinking of working with Smith.”
Rita nodded. “Ham is too, I think. He said that he’s not so worried about learning to manage the funds. Not when I’ve been trained some, and we have you. It’s more that…I don’t know…like Ham has been given freedom to realize that there was lot about his work that he didn’t like, and that he could live his life differently now.”
Vi’s eyes widened. “Our boys need to find a new passion together. Something that isn’t Scotland Yard.”
“Something that will keep them happy,” Rita agreed. “They’ll hate being idle rich men.”
“Whereas, you and I…”
“Born for it,” Rita shot back with a grin. “Born to be useless.”
Vi laughed and then hooked her arm through Rita’s. “I believe we were also born to judge flower arrangements.”
Rita groaned. “They said something about pie, however.”
“They did. I am hoping for some sort of tart-like creation.”
“I could get behind a Victoria sponge,” Rita admitted.
“Beatrice is fully focused on scones, which I admit, has me intrigued as well. Shall we over-indulge?”
“Victor,” Rita told Vi, “has arranged a special cordial, liquor, and beer contest.”
“Of course he did.” Vi laughed. “He’s going to be zozzled within an inch of stumbling drunk into the new swimming pool. Come then,” Vi said, “put your party face on. Sweet young girls will be shortly weaving the maypole, the boys will be showing their prowess at archery or something, the grandmas will be f
ighting it out in the contest tents, and I believe Denny could be persuaded to run a three-legged race with someone.”
“Ginny,” Rita suggested. “He adores her.”
“Ginny!” Vi agreed. “You can partner Izzy.”
“Father can,” Rita countered. “If he’s going to romance the mother, he should start by persuading the daughter to look on him fondly.”
“Mmm,” Vi agreed. “Do you think your father really loves her?”
Rita paused and her eyes filled with tears. “Possibly more than Mother.”
Vi shook her head and then took Rita’s hands. “It’s possible to love differently and equally. Your father now isn’t the same man you knew in India when he was married to your mother.”
“Isn’t he?”
“Are you?” Vi shot back. “After losing your mother, nearly losing Ham, finding out your aunt—who you loved—murdered your mother and stepmother? Are you the same person?”
Rita slowly shook her head.
“Then why would your father be? Lavinia Forman is quiet, gentle, loving, and devoted. She’s not obsessed with his money, and she seems to like him rather a lot.”
“She does,” Rita muttered. “She loves Father. I know she does.” Vi waited until Rita added, “I do want him to be loved.”
“He’s not your priority anymore, Rita. Ham is. He deserves to be someone’s precious one. To be loved and worried over and…all those things.”
“I want Father to have all of that, too.” Rita tossed aside her powder puff and turned to face Vi. “I just want it to be my mother.”
Vi pressed her hand over her chest. Who didn’t want such a thing? What wouldn’t Vi do to have her mother back or her great aunt? “Enough of this. Let’s be happy.”
Chapter 9
“I don’t want to,” Lila said. She had retrieved the baby from the nanny, and she was holding little Lily in front of her as though Vi and Rita were attacking her rather than asking her to walk to the fête below with them.
“Lila,” Rita whined. “Rally round.”
“No,” Lila said. “There are grandmotherly types out there. They’ll give unwarranted advice about babies. I’ve only been a mother for a few weeks and it’s overwhelming.”
“We’ll protect you,” Rita said. “Leave Lily. No one knows you well enough to realize you’ve a baby anyway.”
“Then they’ll just think I’m fat. Or worse”—Lila’s expression turned horrified--“still expecting.”
Rita groaned and turned to leave as Vi said, “Lavinia was Brantley’s lover. He’s here to ruin her relationship with Mr. Russell.”
“What now?” Lila demanded.
“There will probably be a ruckus. Something to tell tales over.”
Lila’s gaze turned avaricious.
“Also, Delilah Brantley is an heiress. The elder Brantley is controlling her funds and keeps her restricted. And wants her to marry one of his sons, the boys Rita cast off for Ham.”
Lila rose. “I’m keeping Lily. I am not fat.”
“You are vain,” Rita snapped. “No one cares what size you are.”
“I do,” Lila said. “I love my clothes.”
“You won’t come for me, but you’ll come to see my father’s heart broken?”
Lila nodded without equivocation. “A ruckus between a jilted lover and the new, rich lover? It’s operatic. And with the addition of wayward heiresses? Letting opportunities slide like this would be criminal.”
Violet shook her head and slid Lily into her own arms. The baby had transitioned from wrinkly and red to an actual angel. Her wisps of blonde hair, her bright eyes, her rosebud mouth. She was perfect.
“You could have one of those,” Lila told Vi.
“I have one,” Vi said, holding the baby closer. “Three, with this angel, and another on the way.”
“One of your own,” Lila said, running her hands over her dress. She frowned fiercely, pinched her cheeks meanly, and then applied a red lipstick. “Nothing to be done for it.”
“You know you’re beautiful,” Vi said without sympathy. “Hurry. We’ll miss the arrival if we don’t find a good spot to watch.”
“Front row seats, so to speak,” Lila said. “Like at a play.”
“We’re box seats creatures,” Vi told Lila. Rita shot them both dark looks, but neither of them cared. They were callous, but they’d fight for Rita, her father, and now his lover. It would have to be enough.
There was a tent with tables to eat and linger, but there were also tables under the blooming apple trees. Lila staked out a spot in the shade with Lily while Rita gathered drinks and Violet scones, pies, and sponge.
“They’re here!” Lila hissed as Violet set down the plates of food. She had to gather a local girl to help and the girl followed their gaze. The auto had driven all the way up the long drive, bypassing the locals who had been asked to not prevent an exit. The driver stopped the auto in front of the doors as though they were the guests of honor.
Vi watched as the driver opened the doors for those attending. Mrs. Mina Forman and Delilah had dressed up for the historical costume contest. They were complete with furs, dressed like what the wealthy would have worn to get onto the Titanic. Vi snorted at the oversized hat with the veil over Mina Forman’s face, and the hat pin that held the massive monstrosity on her head. Delilah wore an equally large hat, but her dress looked like something Queen Victoria’s cousin might have worn.
“Oh my,” Lila muttered.
Neve Brantley exited the auto next. Her dress was a variation of the day before but with a sour twist to her mouth. She glanced around the event and Vi had little doubt that she wouldn’t be pleased. Both of the Brantley men wore sporting-type clothes complete with caps and kerchiefs. They looked like they were trying to fit in as something other than what they were. Vi shook her head and then her mouth dropped open when two younger gents exited the auto.
“Tell me those are the sons!” Vi whispered.
“They’re the sons,” Rita groaned.
One held out a commanding arm to Delilah, who slowly took it. She couldn’t have been less disinclined for a plague-covered arm. Vi rose.
“What are you doing?” Rita hissed.
“I can’t help myself,” Vi countered. “What are their names?”
“The one with the breath and the blue shirt is Mitchell. The one Delilah is despising is Benedict Junior.”
“Does he hate the name Benny?”
Rita shot Vi a surprised look and asked, “How did you know?”
Vi popped her last bite of meat pie into her mouth, shrugged, and said, “I have an instinct for these things. Cue Lady of the Manor.”
Rita leaned back, crossed her arms over her chest, and lifted a brow. Her expression said what Rita did not. She wasn’t going to be joining Violet in her mischief.
Vi left them, circling round the tables so she wouldn’t give away Rita’s location.
“Hullo, hullo,” Vi said as Ham stepped up beside her to greet the Brantleys. “How nice of you to come.”
Mr. Brantley nodded regally and Vi barely held back a snort. Ham didn’t bother. “Why are you back again?”
“I thought this was an event open to the public?” Mr. Brantley’s cold grin said he had every intention of bulldozing his way into the event.
“It is,” Vi said lightly. “How delightful that you’re ready to join the village fête, observe the arrangements of flowers, and even engage in some of the strong man contests.”
Mr. Brantley’s condescending smirk didn’t bother Violet, and she glanced at Ham. His even expression let none of his anger out, but she’d hooked her arm through the crook of his elbow and waved them towards the fête.
“Why are you being nice to them?” Ham demanded as they watched the family filter into the crowd. The moment that the elder Mr. Brantley was out of sight, Mina tugged her daughter’s hand out of the younger Benedict Brantley’s care and pulled her into a tent full of doilies.
The cousin
let her go with a mean laugh.
“Oh!” Vi called out to him. “Are you Benny Brantley? I’ve heard about you.”
The elder of the Brantley sons turned. Like his father he was handsome enough. This one, however, was a bit jaundiced. Vi would guess he spent too much time smoking indoors and drinking. He looked her over. “And who are you, little love?”
“Lady Violet,” Vi replied snidely. “Rita told me about you.”
The fellow searched Vi’s face. She hadn’t said or done anything to allude to the fact that Rita had rather a lot to say about the fellow, but Vi could see he guessed exactly how Rita felt about him.
The man’s gaze narrowed on Vi and then he lifted a brow. “The earl’s daughter who married a bobby and made Rita think it would be a good idea? She’ll regret that someday.”
“You are charming as your father,” Vi said cheerily. “I do hope you’ll enjoy the village fête. Do you know, Ham, I heard that Victor’s blackberry cordial woman is here. I am thinking that we should buy the bottles out from under him.”
“He beat us to it,” Ham muttered. “He bought all she’d sell.”
They turned from the Brantley fellow without making their excuses. It was weak as far as slights went, but at times Vi tried to not start trouble.
When they were out of sight, Vi told Ham, “Smith has been looking into them.”
“Why?” Ham demanded.
“Mostly because Beatrice wanted to stay for the fête and strawberry scones and Smith was ready to return to London.”
“So she pointed the demon at your enemies for a scone.”
Vi considered and then admitted, “Why yes.”
Ham’s mean scoff had Vi looking at him. “You really are a pretty devil,” he told her. “As far as I can tell, all of your friends are the same.”
“Says the man marrying one of them. Why did Russell come down here?”
Ham paused. “He’s buying Rita a house here.”
“He’s what now?” Vi gasped. She turned and faced Ham, grabbing his biceps. “Don’t play with me like that.”
