by C. J. Archer
“And what do your treatments entail?”
“Tonics, creams, tisanes, emetics…it depends on the ailment.”
“What sort of ailments can you treat?”
“Everything.” She opened the ledger and scanned her finger down the page. “I’m expecting a client any moment, but I can fit you in after her in thirty minutes. Will that suffice?”
“How long does it take for the cure to work?”
“It varies.” She eyed me narrowly. “I see you’re a skeptic. That’s understandable. Many people come to me despite having reservations. Usually I’m the last resort. I suspect that deep down, however, you believe modern medicine is failing us. Doctors scoff at the ancient science of herbalism, but it works.” She tapped the lid of a nearby jar with a boney finger. “My cures are based on recipes passed down through the female line of my family over hundreds of years. They don’t fail, as long as you come to me early enough.”
It was a sales spiel if ever I heard one, but I could see how it would work on the desperate who’d tried everything else. Desperation and hope were powerful weapons in the charlatan’s armory.
“Do your customers often return after their initial consultation?”
“Of course, when their supplies run low. No follow-up appointment is necessary, unless one is requested.”
The door opened and a woman entered. One side of her face was covered with a red rash which she tried to hide upon seeing me.
“Miss?” The herbalist indicated her appointment book. “Will you come back in thirty minutes?”
“Not today,” I said.
I left, waited five minutes, then returned to the shop. There was no sign of the herbalist or her client. I quickly slipped behind the counter, pulled out the appointment book, and scanned the column of names. There was no mention of Lady Wrexham so she’d probably just returned to replenish her supply of the herbalist’s cure.
I flipped back through the pages until I came to the fifteenth, the day of Pearl’s death. Lady Wrexham’s name appeared with the time of three-thirty written next to it. The exact time Pearl was pushed over the balcony at the Piccadilly Playhouse.
Lady Wrexham couldn’t have killed her.
Something slapped the back of my head, pushing my hat forward over my forehead. I swung around and caught the broom before the bristles smacked me in the face. The herbalist pulled the broom free from my grip and aimed it at my chest like a shotgun.
Her face took on an even more witchy appearance with her sneer. “I knew there was something strange about you. Get out! Get out of my shop before I put a curse on you!”
Keeping the counter at my back, I slipped out of her reach and hurried from the shop. I raced to the street and didn’t stop until I was safely inside a hansom, heading home.
While the ordeal hadn’t been pleasant, I’d come away with a new appreciation for our kindly family doctor in Cambridge and a vital clue that eliminated Lady Wrexham from my list of suspects.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
But I’d given up the case, of course. Striking Lady Wrexham off my list didn’t make me want to resume.
It bothered me leaving the matter unfinished, however. Lord Rumford was right to be upset with me for giving up. I just wished I could see a way forward.
“Cleo, there you are!” Flossy cried when she spotted me in the hotel foyer. “I’ve had Harmony looking all over the hotel for you.”
I shrugged out of my coat and slung it over my arm. “Why?”
“It’s time to get ready for the Caldicotts’ dinner, silly.”
“Is that tonight?”
She gave me an exasperated look. “Yes! And we both need to get ready.”
“But it’s just gone five.”
She grabbed my arm and dragged me to the lift. John the lift operator waited with a smile and took us up to level four.
The door to my suite was unlocked and Harmony was inside, arranging things on my dressing table.
“I found her,” Flossy announced. “She was out.”
They both scowled at me as if I were a naughty child who’d dodged her chores.
“Do your best with what time you have, Harmony.”
I watched Flossy leave then turned to Harmony. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. We have over two hours before we have to leave.”
“Miss Bainbridge wants me to wash, dry and arrange your hair. She told me to make sure you look your best tonight.” She frowned. “Will there be gentlemen there?”
“I believe so.”
“Then it’s no wonder. We’d best get started.”
“It takes hours to dry my hair completely in winter. We won’t wash it tonight.”
Harmony waited for me to bathe then helped me dress in a black evening gown with pearlescent beads arranged in swirls and clusters across the bust and down the front. It was very elegant and appropriate mourning-wear. Despite Flossy urging me to set aside my dark mourning clothes, I wasn’t yet prepared to do so. My grandmother hadn’t even been gone two months.
While Harmony curled my hair with the tongs, I told her what I’d learned about the Wrexhams and their illness, and about Lady Wrexham’s visit to the herbalist.
Five minutes before I was due to meet the others in the foyer, there was a brisk knock on my door. I opened it to see my uncle, looking troubled. Harmony excused herself and slipped out.
“I’ll just collect my cloak,” I said to Uncle Ronald.
“I’m not here to escort you down.” He entered my suite, closing the door. “I’m here to have a word about something very disturbing.”
I suspected I knew what this was about, but gave him an innocent smile anyway. I would have to brazen my way through the scolding that was coming.
“You know we’re very happy to have you here with us, Cleo.”
“But?”
“But I’ve received a complaint about you from Lord Wrexham.”
“I see.”
“You’ve been bothering him and Lady Wrexham, it seems.”
“I’ve been making inquiries as part of my investigation into the death of Lord Rumford’s mistress.”
“What do the Wrexhams have to do with it?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
He tugged on his cuffs as he waited for more. I merely waited too. “You must end that line of inquiry,” he eventually said. “Wrexham is a powerful fellow. I don’t like upsetting him.”
“Of course. I have no evidence against him anyway, so if he did do it, he’s going to get away with it.”
He winced. “Let’s assume he didn’t do it. Now, to the other matter.”
“There’s another matter? Who else has complained about me?” In truth, there could be a number of people, from Mr. Culpepper to the Larsens, although I doubted they would approach my uncle.
“Mrs. Short says you’ve been associating with the maids.”
I blinked at him, not quite sure how seriously to take him. He appeared quite serious, however. “Harmony is my personal maid. She does my hair and cleans my room. That’s all. I don’t keep her from her duties.”
“Mrs. Short says you’re becoming too friendly with the girl.”
“Is that a problem?”
“I know things were different for you in Cambridge, and this is all new. But here, family do not become friends with the hotel staff. It’s not wise.” He gave me a sympathetic smile. “I see that notion upsets you.”
“It confuses me. Why is it unwise?”
He took my hand in both of his and patted it. “You’re a kind-hearted girl, so it’s not surprising that it never occurred to you, but it’s my duty to warn you about people who befriend you simply so they can gain something.”
I snatched my hand away, bristling at his condescending tone and his sweeping assumption. “That isn’t fair. Harmony hasn’t asked any favors from me.”
“She will. I don’t blame her, of course. Her situation is such that, if presented with the o
pportunity to befriend her employer’s niece, she’d be mad not to take it.”
He reached out to pat my shoulder, but I shrugged him off.
His lips flattened. “I know you miss your friends in Cambridge. That’s only natural for an amiable, intelligent girl such as yourself. You’re like your mother, in that regard. She enjoyed having her friends around her. But there’s no need to go searching for friends among the staff. You have Flossy, naturally, and all of her acquaintances too. Tonight will do you good. I hear Caldicott’s sons are very upstanding young men and are at an age to move to the next phase of their lives.”
My entire body deflated with a silent groan. He could only mean they were on the hunt for wives. And Flossy and I were being offered up like lambs to the slaughter.
Perhaps I was being overly dramatic, but after enduring such a trying conversation with my uncle, I was not inclined to be optimistic.
“As a thank you to your aunt and me, I would appreciate it if you put on your most charming manner tonight. This dinner is important.”
“Why?”
“Sir Lawrence Caldicott is my banker.” He didn’t elaborate as to why he needed to curry favor with his banker. I knew the hotel business wasn’t an easy one, but surely the hotel wasn’t in dire financial straits.
Uncle Ronald escorted me down to the foyer via the lift. He fell into conversation with the night lift operator, and I tuned them out. Every part of me silently cursed the Caldicotts for inviting me to their infernal dinner party, as well as Lord Wrexham and Mrs. Short for their complaints. Lord Wrexham I could understand, but Mrs. Short had no right to interfere.
Why couldn’t I be friends with whomever I wanted? It wasn’t the nineteenth century anymore, and I wasn’t a society debutante searching for a suitable husband. People moved across different social levels all the time nowadays. Pearl, for example, had risen so far above her station that she’d attended parties with princes and dukes.
It wasn’t lost on me that Pearl had only been able to attend those parties because she was a gentleman’s mistress.
I sighed. I was a fool to think this century was any different to the last. I was fortunate to have been sheltered from the worst of English snobbery, having parents from different backgrounds who’d defied society’s so-called rules to marry. But here, in this most elite of settings, I was surrounded by that snobbery.
I put such thoughts from my mind, or tried to. I had a dinner party to endure and it required my full attention. If I so much as lowered my guard just a little, I might find myself engaged to one of Sir Lawrence Caldicott’s “upstanding” sons.
It was clear from the beginning that I was to be matched with the younger son and Flossy with the elder, even though I was older than my cousin. The eldest must be in line to inherit something over his younger brother, hence Flossy was earmarked for him. As Uncle Ronald’s niece, I was only entitled to second best.
I didn’t particularly care which son I was seated next to at the dinner table. They were both fine young men, well-spoken and educated. If only they were interested in something other than finance, I might have enjoyed their company more.
Although they engaged Floyd in conversation about the Stock Exchange and property transactions, I suspected even he grew tired of their conversation after a while. It continued over dinner too. My gaze met Flossy’s across the table and I rolled my eyes. She pressed her lips together, but a giggle still escaped.
Mrs. Mannering, our host’s married daughter, noticed. “Edward,” she said pointedly to the younger brother sitting beside me, “I hear Miss Bainbridge and Miss Fox attended a show at the Piccadilly Playhouse the other night. You have an interest in the theater.”
Edward politely turned to me, even though I suspected he wanted to continue to listen to his father tell Uncle Ronald about the new motoring venture he was considering investing in. “What are they showing at the Playhouse these days?”
“Cat and Mouse.”
“Ah, the doomed production.” He waggled his eyebrows in what he must think was a mysterious manner.
“Why doomed?”
“The lead actress died. Some say it’s now cursed.”
Mrs. Mannering leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I hear her ghost haunts the dress circle.”
Flossy’s eyes widened. “I didn’t see her, and we were in one of the boxes.”
“Those are excellent seats,” Mrs. Mannering said. “Perhaps the ghost avoids the boxes.”
Edward picked up his wine glass. “What did you think of the show, Miss Fox?”
He seemed to be only half listening as I gave him my review so I cut it short. “It was quite good, although I think a ghostly presence will add to it. I’m not sure if the actors would appreciate a phantom’s presence, however.”
“It’ll need something sensational to improve ticket sales. I hear there was a flurry of interest after Miss Westwood died, but that’s dwindling again. It’s a shame. The show’s season will end early.”
“Will they put on something else?” Flossy asked.
“Will they be prepared with something else?” Mrs. Mannering countered. “It can’t be easy having to pivot mid-season.”
Edward sliced into his beef. “They’ll need to do something or risk closing the Playhouse’s doors forever. Or at least until a new financial backer can be found.”
I frowned. I was beginning to suspect his “interest” in the Playhouse, as Mrs. Mannering called it, was a financial one, not artistic. “It’s in trouble?”
He nodded but I had to wait for him to finish chewing before he answered. “The manager banks with Father. He’s mortgaged to the hilt. If Cat and Mouse ends early, and he can’t put on something else, he’ll have to walk away, having lost everything. He can’t afford to stay when the rent is so high and there’s no money coming in. He’ll go bankrupt.”
Poor Mr. Culpepper. It was no wonder Pearl hadn’t asked him for money despite being in a relationship with him. She knew he didn’t have any to spare.
The evening wore on, but it improved after Mrs. Mannering forced her brothers to talk about topics other than finance. Indeed, they proved to be quite good company and we talked about all sorts of things once the men rejoined the women in the drawing room after they’d finished smoking.
The clock on the mantelpiece struck one, just as I laughed at something Edward said. I caught sight of Uncle Ronald, Sir Lawrence and Lady Caldicott watching me, smiling curiously. Beside Lady Caldicott sat Aunt Lilian, staring into the middle distance. With her arms tucked into her sides and her fingers clasped together on her lap, she appeared to be holding herself together.
I sat on her other side. “Are you all right, Aunt?”
She touched her temple. “It’s just one of my headaches.”
I met my uncle’s gaze. “Perhaps we should go.”
“No,” Aunt Lilian said. “You young ones are having such a lovely time. Don’t worry about me. It’s nothing.” She offered a smile, but no one was convinced.
Uncle Ronald rose and put out his hand to his wife to assist her to her feet. “Cleo’s right, we should go.”
Lady Caldicott took my hand, trapping me on the sofa. “You look so much like your aunt when she was younger, although that’s where the resemblance ends. You’re not like her in character. She tells me you’re a lot like your mother though.”
“So I’m told.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Your uncle is very proud of you. He couldn’t stop praising you. Apparently you speak Italian.”
I laughed. “Good lord, no. Not fluently.”
“Edward is going to Italy this year for his Grand Tour. Perhaps you can teach him a few words, and when he comes back, he can tell you all about his adventures.”
Oh dear. The trap was opening up before me and I needed to do a quick sidestep to avoid it. Fortunately, I was saved by Floyd offering me his hand.
“Come along, Cleo.”
In the hall, he assisted me into my cloa
k. With his hands on my shoulders and his mouth near my ear, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You’re welcome,” he whispered.
“I didn’t need saving,” I whispered back.
“Oh? So you’re quite happy to have her as a mother-in-law?”
“I wouldn’t let it get that far.”
“Sweet, naïve, Cuz. You have no idea how quickly these things can escalate. It begins as an innocent meeting, as a result of politeness to one’s hostess, and ends with a walk down the aisle. If you’re as determined to avoid the matrimonial noose as you say you are, then you need to be alert when mothers are around. Trust me, I know.”
Edward approached, frowning. “What are two conspiring about?”
Floyd fussed over my cloak, smoothing his hand over the wrinkles at my shoulder. “I’m just giving Cleo some advice.”
“Financial advice?” Edward took my hand and bowed over it. “Please feel free to come to me at any time if you require advice of that nature, Miss Fox. I’d be happy to guide you.”
“Oh, er, thank you,” I managed to say.
Floyd shook Edward’s hand. “Very good of you to offer. Considering Cleo doesn’t intend to marry, she’ll probably value your advice. A woman alone needs to plan for her future. Isn’t that right?”
Edward was rendered speechless, which I suspected was Floyd’s intention.
My cousin steered me outside after my aunt and uncle. “Aren’t you glad I rescued you now?”
He assisted me into the carriage then helped Flossy in too. Once we were all settled and the carriage on its way, Floyd released a deep sigh. “Thank God they eventually stopped talking about money and investing. I was beginning to think they lived and breathed the bank.”
“Is there something wrong with that?” his father barked. “You could learn a thing or two from the Caldicott boys.”
“Like how to bore a woman in five minutes?” Floyd snorted.
My aunt winced and closed her eyes.
My uncle’s eyes flashed like cold steel in the lamplight. “Like how not to ruin your future.”
Edward Caldicott’s opinion of the Piccadilly Playhouse’s financial predicament was the first thing on my mind when I awoke the following morning. Even though I’d vowed I was giving up the investigation, it seemed I wanted to continue. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mr. Culpepper’s situation. If things were as dire as Edward claimed, then Mr. Culpepper was in no position to assist Pearl if she asked him for money. Did Pearl know and not bother to ask? Or did she go to her long-time lover first before calling on Lord Wrexham? But why would she go to Mr. Culpepper first if he wasn’t the father of Millie?
