The clock in the hallway chimed six and Cole took his pocket watch out to check. “I didn’t realise it was so late. If you’ll both excuse me, I want to see how my father is and if he is calm or sleeping, I’ll take my sisters to see him. It… it may be the last time.”
Thea approached him. “Is he really that bad?”
“I am no medical man but yes, I believe he is. The doctor also left opium granules with his nurse, and that is never a good sign. I fear that in his already weakened state, the opium may make him comfortable, but will shorten what life he has left.”
“If he is in pain, isn’t that kinder?”
Cole nodded his head, blinking rapidly to ward off tears. “Yes, you’re right, of course. Somehow though, even if he had another five years, I suspect it would be too soon.”
Thea stretched up to kiss him but wary of his promise to her father, he looked over to Copley, who had turned his back and was looking out over the grounds.
Cole seized the moment and pulled Thea into a tight embrace, drawing what comfort he could from her to give him strength for the ordeal that was to come.
“If you need me, come and find me,” she said. “If not, I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Thank you.” He kissed the top of her head, then stepped out of the embrace. “I’ll see you later, my dear. Sir.” He nodded to Copley, who turned and nodded in response.
***
Thea stood where she was, watching the door long after Cole had left, and Lord Copley approached her.
“Are you all right?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She turned to look up at him and he was surprised to see her eyes swimming with tears.
“I can't imagine what he’s going through, to lose both his parents so young. If I...” She swallowed as her tears spilled over. “I’m sorry for the things I said earlier, Papa. Sometimes I take you and Mama for granted and I shouldn’t. You are both so important to me and…”
“Hush.” He pulled her into a hug. “Your mother and I will be around for a long time to come, never you fear.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Suddenly she looked up at him, her expression shocked.
“Thea?”
“I just realised, I’m going to have to leave home, aren’t I? Live here, with Cole, but without you and Mama, Caroline, Joan and Kathryn. I’ll even miss Francis!” She sounded appalled at the idea of missing her brother. Oh, I didn’t think this through, did I? What have I done!”
He couldn’t help being a little pleased by her cold feet, at least he knew that she understood the implications of marriage, at least a little. For her not to have thought through every aspect of her choice however, spoke to the depth of her feeling, he felt.
“It’s not too late to call it off,” he teased.
“That’s not helpful, Papa!”
“I’m sorry, dearest.” He didn’t look in the slightest bit sorry. “This is one of the reasons I wanted you to be cautious, to give yourself time to realise the changes marriage brings, and come to terms with them.”
“Can't we just live with you? The Dower house is huge.”
“I would not object, but Cole will be master of this estate, and rather soon, it seems. But you will surely be in London for part of the season, as will we; you do have three sisters who need husbands, after all, and I’m sure that we will be frequent guests at each other’s homes. We’ll probably end up seeing more of each other than we do now.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For putting up with me, for not disowning me, for wanting what’s best for me, for loving me, although I’m not the easiest person to get along with. It’s not that I try to be contrary, if I could behave like every other young lady, my life would be a good deal easier. And yours.”
“And a lot more prosaic.” He smiled. “You know that of all your siblings, you take after your mother most of all. Crossing paths with your mother was the biggest blessing in my life, so to have a daughter like her, feels like another blessing, not a curse.”
“Thank you anyway. When I see some other fathers out there, I realise how lucky I am to have you. Actually, most people couldn’t hold a candle to you or Mama, not just those who are parents.”
“I do hope Cole is an exception?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “I hope so too.”
***
“You simply must tell us how you did it!” Flora Small declared, taking Thea’s hand as she entered the parlour.
“Yes,” Mrs Small agreed, also approaching. “I simply cannot fathom how it was accomplished.”
“Nor I,” Peter Buchan added. “And father has been trying all day and still cannot explain it.”
Almost everyone was crowded around her now, save for the older Buchan brothers, who were staring from across the room.
“Is that true, gentlemen? Do you concede?”
“Fine, show us!” Mr Buchan snapped.
“I shall take that as an agreement, the Irish families will be so pleased to receive your generous donation.”
“Just get on with it,” Lord Buchan urged.
“Very well, does anyone else have a coin they wish to donate to a good cause?” she asked.
Half a dozen coins were thrust in her general direction, causing her to rear back for fear of being struck in the face.
“Oh, let me take a seat first, please.”
The guests parted like the Red Sea for Moses and Thea made her way to an armchair.
“Is Master Cole not here?”
“He is coming,” Lord Small assured her. “But he did ask me to warn everyone that he might be a little late.”
“Oh. Well in that case…” She raised her hand and balanced the coin on two fingers and her thumb, then waved the other hand over, clicked her fingers and the coin vanished, to a round of applause. She held her position however.
“Where is it?” Miss Emily demanded. “Please.”
“Look at the way I am positioned, what is the only conceivable hiding place?”
“Your, uh,” Michael Reynolds stammered. “Well…”
“It is not in my bosom.” She put him out of his misery. “It’s in my sleeve,” she admitted. Aiming the hand that ‘clicked’ down to the floor, shaking her arm until something fell out, landing on the carpet.”
“But how did it get there?” Mrs Dale demanded.
“Easy. It takes practice but like all magic, the solution is decidedly dull. When I click the fingers of this hand, my middle finger hits the coin and if my aim is true, the coin flies into my sleeve.” To illustrate, she first mimicked the actions slowly and without a coin. She repeated the action three times, then picked the coin up and did it again. She did it a total of six more times until everyone seemed satisfied.
Most of the younger men already had coins out and were starting to practice.
“Do you know any other tricks?” Peter asked.
“I know a few sleight of hand tricks.” She performed a few different tricks that although they looked different, were all variations of palming the coins. She refused to disclose how those were done however. “If I show you everything, how will illusionists make their money?”
The fuss stopped soon after and Thea was pleased, not relishing being the centre of attention for too long.
Thea made her way around the room with her father and was surprised to realise that Mrs Cole was being far more civil this evening, and she wondered what had brought about that change. Perhaps she was just grateful that the psychic had been proved fraudulent after all, being titillated by ghost stories is fun but actually coming face to face with one (even an imagined one) was a lot less enjoyable.
When dinner was called, Thea hesitated so that she and her father were the last to leave the room.
“Will Master Cole be joining us?” she asked the butler.
“No, Ma’am, not this evening. He sends his regrets.”
“Is he all right?”
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p; “I cannot say; his valet relayed the instruction that Master Cole wished to be left alone this evening, so I have not checked on him.”
Thea bit her lower lip, her indecision evident.
“It’s nothing personal, sometimes people need to be alone, even from those who they care about,” her father said, gently pulling her onwards. “Check on him after dinner but if he asks to be left alone, respect his wishes.”
She nodded her agreement, although she was clearly distracted during most of the dinner. Rather than being seated by the head of the table, where Cole had sat in his father’s absence, she found herself seated with the young ladies and gentlemen this evening, and she did her best to block their inane chatter out and listen to the conversations at the other end of the table.
“After dinner, Madam Davina is going to read our tarot cards for us,” Mrs Cole announced to everyone but she looked to Thea. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“I thought we had proven her a fraud? Since Mr Platt hasn’t joined us for dinner, I assumed she would have gone by now.”
“Yes, but this is just for pleasure, Lady Athena. She is leaving tomorrow so we may as well be entertained by her while we can. Real or not, she is very diverting.
“Say you’ll come,” Master Peter pleaded. “It will be great fun.”
“And we need you to show us how she does her tricks,” Mrs Dale added.
“Thank you but no, I really must check on Cole, he’s frightfully upset at the moment. Perhaps another time.”
“But how are we going to know how she tricks us?” Lady Flora asked. “Oh please, you must come.”
“Thank you but no,” Thea said with finality.
“She was only asking,” Mrs Cole sniffed.
“And I was only declining.”
There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment.
“Do you like the theatre, Lady Thea?” Lady Emily asked.
“It depends on the play and the skill of the actors. Overall, I prefer the ballet.”
“Really? Why?” Miss Eliza more demanded than asked.
“Probably because I admire the grace of ballet dancers.”
Eliza’s smile was a little snide. “We often envy qualities in others that we ourselves do not possess.”
“You are quite correct,” Thea said. “I am not particularly graceful.”
“How are you at acting?” Emily asked.
“Probably quite poor, why?”
“We had to do something to pass the time so we have been rehearsing an abridged version of Romeo and Juliet. We will be performing it tomorrow evening, after dinner, but we don’t have anyone to play Rosaline. Flora is playing Lady Montague and Rosaline, but it would be wonderful if we could have another woman to call upon.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I fear I would not be a beneficial addition to the performance, especially with so little rehearsal time.” In truth, she could think of little that she would enjoy less than performing.
“I told you,” Eliza said with some glee.
Thea ignored her. “Who is playing the lead roles?”
“Emily and Master Reynolds,” Flora answered. “They’re so good in it, and the Reynolds will be joining us for dinner tomorrow.”
“If you’re worried about learning your lines, I’m sure we could affix them to a prop for you,” Eliza said.
“A kind offer, but I already know Romeo and Juliet,” Thea smiled.
“By heart?” Flora asked.
“Of course.”
“So you have performed it before?” Lady Eleanor Grady wanted to know. At sixteen she was the youngest lady in the group.
“No, I read it once.”
Eliza laughed. “And you think that makes you an expert?”
“Not at all. While I appreciate Shakespeare’s works, Romeo and Juliet is one of my least favourite plays. In fact, I have never even seen it performed; I merely said that I had memorised it.”
“After one reading? I think not.”
Eliza’s gloating attitude was beginning to irk Thea.
“If you would care to name an act and scene, I shall prove it. Any of his works, for that matter.”
Eliza’s eyes narrowed. “Act four, Benvolio’s first lines.”
“‘The date is out of such prolixity: We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke…’.”
“All right, that’s enough,” Eliza huffed.
“Act two, scene two, line 80?” Flora challenged.
“‘By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; he lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.’”
No one spoke for a moment.
“Well?” Eliza demanded of Flora.
“I don’t know, I just plucked the number out of thin air.”
“I think she’s right,” Emily said. “That’s Romeo’s line but he says it in reply to me, and I think my line is 79.”
“‘By whose direction found'st thou out this place?’.” Thea added.
“Why don’t you like the play?” Eleanor asked.
‘Oh, so many reason’s,’ she thought. She realised however, that these people, the young ones among them at least, obviously thought the play romantic so rather than point out what she viewed as the idiocy of Romeo and Juliet, she opted for a safer flaw.
“It’s unrealistic. There is no potion that can mimic death, which takes the play out of the realm of fact and into fantasy.”
“But it’s still good fun,” Flora added.
“I’m sure it is, it’s simply not to my personal taste.” Her father gave her a hard look. “But I look forward to your performance,” she added. She anticipated wincing through an amateur production of a play she disliked, but she needn’t add that detail.
Finally the dinner was over and Thea excused herself.
Chapter Fourteen
Cole’s visit with his father earlier had a certain finality about it that had dulled his mood considerably. Although drowsy, his father had roused himself enough to say a few words to Cole and his sisters, all words of praise, which was unusual.
He had told Marie that she was sweetness itself, then he had told Sylvia that she was a clever girl and must be good. Sylvia seemed to have more understanding of what was happening than her sister but he knew that death was a concept that was foreign to young children and it was hard for them to grasp the implications of it.
Finally, he had made Cole promise to look after them and protect them. He had of course assured his father that he would; even if he didn’t like their mother, they were his kin.
Cole wanted to believe it was the drugs making his father uncharacteristically kind, but he couldn’t escape the thought that his father knew the end was nigh and was setting things in order.
Knowing that he was in no mood for a dinner party and in truth, was beginning to tire of their guests, he chose to remain in his rooms. He would have a simple, cold supper sent up if he regained his appetite but for the moment, he was content to sip the port he had asked to be sent up.
Thea would come and find him eventually, he was sure. What he was not sure of, was her reaction. He didn’t want to hear hollow platitudes and false reassurances. In truth, he didn’t know what he wanted, only what he didn’t.
When her knock came, he called for her to enter and from the doorway, she looked around his living room, taking in the scene.
“He is not improved then?” she asked as she approached, kneeling beside his chair and taking his hand.
“No, although he was lucid for a few minutes. I think he was trying to say goodbye.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s hardly your fault.”
“I’m still sorry.”
He gave her a smile, although it was rather weak.
“Will you bring your port through to our living room?” she asked.
“Thank you, but I want to be alone. I wouldn’t be good company at the moment.”
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“I expect nothing from you but your presence,” she assured him. “I only want to go next door because of the promise I made father, and if he is there also, we will not cause gossip.”
“Thea-”
“Please, Cole. He will read, as will I. No one will disturb you, I just don’t want you to be alone.”
He doubted if that was true; in his experience, people always tried to cajole the sad into happiness but she looked so eager that he found it hard to deny her.
“My dress…” he had removed his cravat and collar, his waistcoat was unbuttoned, as were the top two buttons of his shirt.
“Is fine,” she assured him. “Besides, you owe me a dare, do you not? I can ask anything of you and you are honour bound to do it.”
He didn’t have the spirit to continue arguing. “As you wish.”
She picked up his bottle of port and her other hand took his, leaving him only his glass to bring.
In their sitting room, she sat him on one sofa then went to retrieve a book from the sideboard.
“Where is your father?”
“He’s changing into his night clothes, which I am about to do as well, so that Evans can take the rest of the night off. I won’t be long.”
Cole didn’t mind, this had been his mother’s sitting room, and he had many fond memories in here. Oddly however, he felt both better being here, somewhere he had loved being, and worse, because his mother was no longer here to comfort him.
Copley entered and nodded to him.
“Good evening, Sir.”
“No, no formality tonight. You are among family, Cole. Besides,” he gesture to his nightgown and dressing gown, offering a wry smile. “Formality feels a little ridiculous in this get up.”
Cole smiled. He thought that he would like becoming part of this family.
“Would you like a glass of port?” Cole offered.
“Thank you, but I usually have something a little stronger before bed.” He poured himself a brandy from the decanters, then sat in an armchair by the fireplace, which was angled slightly away from the sofas.
He picked up a book that was resting on his side table and opened it.
Murder at Locke Abbey Page 19
