‘Having become recently acquainted with the Inspector, I sympathize.’ She was about to mention an even more recent acquaintance with Evangeline’s brother but decided it might be counterproductive when she had not yet made up her mind about either of them. It occurred to her then that Harry and John Lange were not physically dissimilar, with the same height and build, though Harry’s hair was lighter and he was not quite so handsome. Strange how a heavy lower lip marred otherwise perfect features.
‘I wrote a letter to Evie the other night,’ Harry said, bringing her thoughts back to the present. ‘The same night she died as it turned out. In it, I apologized for upsetting her. Told her if she wished to wait longer for the wedding I would understand and accede to her wishes.’ He fiddled with his shirt cuff. ‘The marriage was our parents’ wish, you know, but I simply thought that as she had accepted the idea, what was the point of waiting?’
Flora nodded, though his directness surprised her. Or was he trying to divert her suspicions by being the concerned fiancée?
‘When her father turned up at the suffrage meeting,’ he went on, ‘I really did think she had gone to Brighton to teach us both a lesson. Me for being insufferable and her father for his continued scenes about her activities with the NUWSS. He’s one of those men who thinks slavery should never have been abolished.’ He gave a laugh that was more a snort. ‘I didn’t send it of course. The letter, I mean. It’s still in the bureau in my flat.’ He caught the eye of a passing waiter and requested a refill of their coffee pot, giving Flora time to conduct an internal debate.
His controlled tone struck her as more exasperated than heartbroken, whereas John Lange’s emotions had affected his composure. But then when she had first met him, John had only just learned of Evie’s death, whereas Harry had had the luxury of a few hours to grow accustomed to it. Was there a cracked mirror or a smashed vase brushed into a corner somewhere in Harry’s apartment to attest to how he first reacted?
Both Lydia and Miss Lowe had suggested Evangeline was unhappy about their engagement or was the only doubt on Evangeline’s side? Couples married for many different reasons, especially those given guardianship of money. To preserve bloodlines was one, but sometimes for security also, neither of which Flora would have entertained as a reason to spend one’s life with someone. She counted herself fortunate to have found Bunny.
‘Unlike her father, you didn’t disapprove of Evangeline’s enthusiasm for the NUWSS, Mr Flynn?’ She had to raise her voice slightly as the reception area had grown noisier as it filled with people arriving for luncheon.
‘Me?’ His brows pulled together in an enquiring look. ‘Ah, did you think I joined the movement to please Evie, or perhaps because I sought the company of free-thinking young women?’
‘I didn’t mean to imply anything like that,’ she lied, uncomfortable with his powers of perception.
‘I’m a great admirer of Mrs Fawcett as it happens. She’s worked tirelessly for years trying to change the government’s view of women’s role in society. I only hope this new order led by the Pankhurst woman doesn’t ruin what she has thus far achieved. Howard Lange’s objections were purely selfish. He thought Evie’s involvement might affect his career, but then he said that about most of her views on life. Her being a teacher was also a bone of contention between them. They thought she was lowering herself.’
‘You agree then, that women should have a place in the running of the country?’
‘Actually, I do.’ He raised his chin and smiled as if congratulating himself. ‘Evie's father had given her some shares in his company when she reached her eighteenth birthday. Shares on which she was expected to pay tax, but she wasn’t allowed to vote for the government which collected those taxes. They had some heated debates about it on occasion. Evie was always so enthusiastic about the future that we never ran out of things to talk about.’ His eyes dulled suddenly, surprising Flora yet again with the depth of his feelings. He didn’t strike her as a man who treated women lightly. Was John Lange wrong in his assessment of his sister's fiancé, or prejudiced against Harry Flynn for other reasons?
‘You still haven't told me what you were doing at Boltons Library,’ Harry asked suddenly.
Flora considered her response as he thanked the waiter who replaced the empty coffee pot with a full, steaming one.
‘I think I did. As I said, I enjoy reading.’ She wasn’t ready to tell this man everything. After all, he could simply be an excellent actor.
‘I see. You’re sticking to that story, eh?’ He chuckled but didn’t appear angry, simply resigned. ‘Inspector Maddox did give me a few details, which I assume he expected me to contradict and thus incriminate myself.’
‘I can imagine him doing that.’ Flora smiled.
‘He said Evangeline’s brooch was missing. Well, those weren’t his exact words. He said she wasn’t wearing any jewellery other than her engagement ring.’ A shadow crossed his features and he stared off across the room. ‘It’s a family piece, the ring. The police seem to think it will come back to me when all this is over, but I don’t care if I never see it again. When I mentioned the brooch he seemed to know nothing about it.’
‘Which wasn’t true as I had already mentioned I saw her wearing it that night,’ Flora said. ‘It’s a horrible thought. To be killed for a piece of jewellery worth no more than a few shillings. Strange that her attacker left the engagement ring. If it was a robbery as Maddox believes.’
‘A few shillings?’ Harry scoffed. ‘I should think not. Those were rubies and some rather fine emeralds. Evangeline had the brooch made to her specifications and was very proud of it. I often warned her to be careful where she wore the thing, but she took no notice.’
Flora frowned. John Lange had told her the brooch was made of semi-precious stones. He hadn’t seemed very concerned to hear it was missing. Perhaps she was wrong. Or maybe Evangeline had misled John on purpose? It wouldn’t be the first time a young woman was economic with the truth where her spending was concerned.
Chapter 19
Flora declined Harry’s offer to walk her back to the apartment with the excuse her father’s building was in sight of the hotel. They parted outside the main door, when, too late, she realized Harry now knew where she lived; which she found worrying, with him still high on the suspect list.
A sudden, heavy cloudburst sent her through the entrance doors at a run with Sally close behind her, the pair exploding into the lobby laughing hysterically and shaking raindrops off their coats and hats.
‘I’ll go and get the fire started, Miss Flora,’ Sally called as she disappeared into the apartment.
Dunne noticed Flora’s dismayed look at the double trail of wet footprints that now marred the pristine floor. ‘Don’t worry about that, Miss. I’ll call someone from the housekeeping staff to see to it.’ He approached a table, from which he swept a thin pile of newspapers and added them to a larger pile on the counter.
‘That's quite a collection you have there, Dunne.’ Flora nodded to the neat piles as she tweaked a damp curl off her forehead.
‘Aye. I store them for the maids to light the fires in the mornings.’
Flora halted on her way to the apartment as a thought struck her and she returned to the desk. ‘Mr Dunne, how far back do those papers go?’
‘’Bout four months or so.’ He shuffled the pile and withdrew one from near the bottom. ‘This pile here is from June. Why, Miss?’
‘Might I borrow them for a few hours?’ She summoned her most winning smile. ‘I’ll bring them back when I’ve finished with them.’
‘Don’t see why not.’ The furrows in his forehead deepened. ‘Though why you would want old copies of The Times is beyond me.’
‘Thank you, Mr Dunne, you’ll have them back as soon as I’ve finished with them.’ She smiled again and hefted the pile into her arms.
‘What have you got there, Missus?’ Sally stared as Flora hurried past her.
‘Come with me, I’ve got an i
dea.’ She headed for the dining room, stopping short when she caught sight of the single place for luncheon set at the end of the oval table. ‘Mr William isn’t coming back for luncheon, I assume?’
‘Er, he left a message with Randall.’ Sally bit her bottom lip. ‘He’s eating out and is going straight to some meeting this afternoon.’ She smoothed her apron and planted herself in front of Flora, obviously in an attempt to distract her. ‘What’s this idea you had then?’
‘What? Oh, yes.’ Swallowing her disappointment, Flora dumped the pile of newspapers on the sideboard. ‘I was trying to work out why Evangeline would need that mailbox she had hired. I assume she was receiving correspondence via the box and not to her home, in which case, who would it be from?’
‘It don’t make sense to me.’
‘It’s quite logical really.’ Flora arranged the papers in neat piles at the end of the table. ‘How did whoever was writing to Evangeline know to contact her using the mailbox?’
‘Because she told them?’ Sally’s upper lip curled in obvious confusion.
‘That wouldn’t make any sense would it? No, what if she wanted to hear from people she didn’t know?’
‘You’ve lost me, Missus. Why would she want letters from people she didn’t know?’
Flora propped her hands on her hips and exhaled noisily. ‘This made more sense inside my head, but I still think there’s something to it. Suppose Evangeline was appealing to young women like herself who wanted to be suffragists but didn’t know how because their families wouldn’t allow it?’
‘Go on, I’m following so far.’ Sally narrowed her eyes. ‘I think.’
‘Consider this. To help young women who wanted to join the NUWSS without their parent’s knowledge, Evangeline put an advertisement in the newspapers inviting correspondence. For instance, something like: “Do you want to know more about women’s suffrage in confidence?”’ Excitement mounted as she sifted through the papers, laying them in date order on the polished table. ‘Lydia said Evangeline was an eager recruiter for the NUWSS. Perhaps she used that mailbox to attract new members without the correspondence being delivered to her home address where her parents would surely have disapproved.’
‘But what’s that got to do with her death?’
‘That’s the flaw in my theory, but it’s worth pursuing. It’s also the only lead we have. These papers might be able to tell us who was writing to Evangeline.’
‘The classifieds you mean?’ Sally asked, brightening.
‘Exactly. We need to search for one which refers to Boltons Library and has the same number of the mailbox which is on the receipt.’ Flora withdrew the slip of paper from her pocket and peered at it. ‘Number 32. And while I’m doing this, would you finish lighting the fire, Sally? It’s freezing in here.’
Sally hefted the coal scuttle into both hands with a grunt and crouched at the grate.
Randall appeared just as Flora finished sorting the papers into piles in date order, a plate covered by a metal dome held in both hands as if he carried the crown jewels.
‘Your luncheon, Miss Flora.’ His glance slid to the pile of newspapers, then to Sally, who bent to the hearth brushing coal dust into a shovel. ‘Yours is in the kitchen, Miss Pond.’
Sally grunted and heaved to her feet, swiped a hand over her forehead leaving a soot mark. ‘Would you serve it in here? Miss Flora and I has things to do.’
He gave a start, and with a muttered, ‘As you wish,’ backed out of the room.
‘You shouldn’t goad him, Sally.’ Flora bit her lip to prevent a smile. ‘He’s not used to having someone like you disrupt his routine.’
‘Aw, he’s not as bad as he seems, Miss Flora. He’s just a bit proud, like and not used to sharing his kitchen.’ She slapped her hands together to remove the coal dust. ‘I’ll make him some tea this afternoon and tell him what I heard about that Lady Braeburn on the top floor. That’ll bring him around.’
Flora smiled to herself as she picked up one of the papers from a pile on the dining table, admiring of her maid’s ability to turn hostile characters to her advantage. Sally’s sterling efforts with the barmaid, Meg had shown that.
*
The clock on the dining room mantle struck three and as the last melodious chime faded away, Sally yawned, her back arched against her chair. ‘We’ve been at this over two hours, Missus, can we please stop. I’m getting the cramp in me back.’
‘Not yet, we’re only halfway through these.’ Flora added the paper she was looking at to the pile on her left, then plucked another from the diminishing stack beside her.
‘Staring at all those small letters is making my head hurt.’ Sally picked up another one with obvious reluctance.
‘Which is it, Sally, your back or your eyes? Choose an ailment and stick to it or no one will take your complaints seriously.’
‘If I’m tired, Missus, I can’t imagine why you aren’t.’
‘I’m on a quest and thus energized. Besides, why should I be?’ Flora examined a list of requests for ladies’ maids, valets, and private tutors. ‘Goodness, there’s a man here looking for his third wife.’
‘How did he manage to lose her in the first place?’ Sally grunted.
‘Don’t be facetious, Sally. He wishes to marry again and appears to think the classified section of a national newspaper will be the easiest course. I don’t know whether to admire his confidence or condemn him for laziness.’
‘Depends what he did with the previous two.’ She slapped a hand on the paper in front of her. ‘Are you sure you ain’t tired? Ladies in your condition need to sleep a lot in the first weeks.’
‘Please stop talking about it.’ Flora lowered the paper and simultaneously cast a swift glance at the closed door. ‘It’s relatively early days and sometimes, well, these things don’t work out the way we hope.’
‘You don’t have to tell me. Me eldest sister lost three before she had her boy. ‘Is it ‘cos you don’t want the old Missus to know yet?’
‘I simply wish to choose my own time to let people know the news.’ Flora refrained from reminding Sally not to use that epithet in front of Beatrice Harrington. Sally was not stupid.
‘I’ll tell you now,’ Sally snorted, ‘if that woman don’t know already, she’ll sniff it out before long. Can’t keep anything from her for long.’
‘I’m aware of that.’
A month after she and Bunny married, Beatrice Harrington had dropped loaded hints which indicated the entire process was in Flora’s control, and therefore her fault it had not happened sooner. She had made it clear that Flora had not benefitted from the correct upbringing in order to prepare her for the privilege of being married to her son, therefore producing the next in line was bound to be deemed too much for her to cope with without her mother-in-law’s superior knowledge.
Then, of course, the entire experience would become a whole lot worse when the child arrived.
‘Well you’ve got Mr Bunny,’ Sally said as if she had read Flora’s thoughts. ‘He’s such a lovely man and will make a wonderful father.’
‘Thank you, Sally. I think so too.’ She placed a hand on her lower belly, but it felt as flat as ever. ‘I wish I could be so confident I’ll make a good mother.’
That her own mother had disappeared when she was six re-emerged with all its accompanying doubts. No one knew what had actually happened, or claimed not to know, but Flora could not help wondering if the task of motherhood had proved too much for Lily Maguire, and she had sought escape? Everyone who had known her mother said she never would have left of her own accord, but the truth remained unknown. Perhaps her mother had left her.
‘You’ll be all right, Miss Flora. Everyone will take good care of you and make sure nothing goes wrong.’ Sally had apparently misinterpreted Flora’s silence. ‘Me second oldest sister got into the family way when she was in service. Wouldn’t tell us who the dad was.’ She folded and refolded the corner of the newspaper she was studying. ‘She had to f
oster the baby out to a couple in the country or she would have lost her job.’
‘That must have been very difficult for her.’ Flora briefly forgot her own problems at the sadness in Sally’s voice. ‘Does she manage to see the child?’
‘She used to. Every week on her day off.’ Sally shrugged, her fingers stained by the ink from the page screwed in her hand. ‘The woman who took her wrote and told us the baby died of diphtheria when she was ten months old. We found out later it was one of those baby farms. We’ll never know if the little mite died, or was sold to a family somewhere. Me sister’s married now and got another little girl, so perhaps she’s better off not knowing the truth of it.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Flora shuddered for the tiny life inside her that had barely begun. She went back to the newspaper, though the words blurred through sudden, inexplicable tears. She pushed thoughts of babies to the back of her mind and ran a finger down the page. A phrase scraped at her brain and she went back to read it again. ‘I think I’ve found something,’ Flora murmured, then louder. ‘It’s got nothing to do with suffragists, though. Listen to this, Sally.’
Miss EL seeks ladies who have endured ungentlemanly conduct from a man named ‘Victor’, reputed to be in his late twenties, of medium height with dark hair, a swarthy complexion and what have been described as ‘hypnotic eyes’. To discuss your experiences with a view to restitution for grievances, reply to Miss E L Box No 32, Boltons Library, Knightsbridge. All information will be treated with sympathy and strict confidentiality.
‘Do you think that’s the one?’ Sally’s tone sounded doubtful. ‘The number’s right but there’s no mention of Miss Lange or those suffragist women.’
‘Miss EL?’ Flora enunciated slowly, but Sally still looked sceptical. ‘Forget the suffragists, I must have been wrong about that. It appears Evangeline was looking for someone named Victor, but the advertisement gives no more details or a surname.’
A Knightsbridge Scandal Page 20
