Perhaps hiring a detective might not be such a bad idea after all? She brought a slice of the succulent white flesh to her mouth but lowered it to her plate again. The dinner she had anticipated with pleasure tasted like sawdust in her mouth.
Chapter 9
At breakfast next morning, Ed’s continued restlessness was manifested in surly, monosyllabic responses to Flora’s attempt at conversation. His irritation resulted in his clumsy manhandling of the crockery and the upending of a jug of milk over his trousers. His complaint the handle was too small, Flora accepted without a word, while Bunny merely glared at him over his newspaper. Muttering darkly, Ed stomped off to his room to change.
Her appetite spoiled, Flora excused herself and went up to the nursery to spend some time with Arthur. The sound of the doorbell, followed by the sharp tattoo of Stokes’ footsteps across the hall tiles drew her attention. Vaguely wondering if the caller might be Inspector Maddox with some encouraging news, she paused on the half landing, only for the voice of the caller, drifting up to her vantage point, making her freeze on the spot.
‘I’m not expected, Stokes,’ Lady Jocasta greeted the butler. ‘Though I’m sure Mrs Harrington won’t mind my calling so early. I assume she’s at home?’
At Stokes’ murmured assent, Jocasta swept past him into the sitting room.
Flora took a slow step down when she spotted Ed’s jacket draped over the bannister rail. Grabbing the garment, she sped up the stairs, avoiding the one which creaked on the turn in the landing and entered his room.
‘Hey! I’m still changing in here,’ Ed protested, rapidly turning his back and continued fastening his trousers. ‘I’m not thirteen anymore. A chap needs his privacy.’
‘Keep your voice down!’ Flora snapped, closing the door behind her. ‘Your sister is downstairs.’
‘Oh, cripes! She mustn’t know I’m here,’ he halted with his belt still undone ‘You know what’s she’s like. She’ll get the whole story out of me within the first ten minutes.’
‘Which is why I came to warn you not to come down.’ She held out his jacket. ‘Here, you left this downstairs.’
‘Thanks.’ As he took the jacket and swung it onto the bed, something clattered to the floor. He bent and retrieved what at first glance appeared to be a four-inch metal spike attached to a mother-of-pearl handle. ‘What’s this?’ Ed peered at it frowning.
‘It fell out of your pocket.’ Flora took it from him. ‘It’s some sort of needlework tool. I didn’t know you had taken up sewing?’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ he snorted ‘Why would I want such a thing?’ Ed perched on the edge of the bed to tie his shoelaces. ‘I’ve never seen it before. Are you sure it came from my jacket?’
‘Yes, I—’ At the sound of approaching footsteps, Flora placed the tool on the mantel beside an ormolu clock. ‘I’d better go down and keep Jocasta occupied. You’re not to leave this room until she’s gone.’
‘What!’ Ed’s shoulders slumped. ‘Can’t I even pass the time with Arthur in the nursery?’
‘Not a good idea. Jocasta might ask to see him, which would cause all sorts of problems. It’s best you remain here until I tell you she’s gone.’
‘She’ll be ages,’ Ed muttered. ‘You know what Jo’s like when she gets talking.’
Ignoring him, Flora tugged the door closed and descended to the first landing, almost colliding with Stokes on his way up.
‘There you are, madam. Lady Jocasta Fitzhugh is—’
‘Yes, I know, Stokes, I heard her arrive,’ Flora interrupted him. ‘Where did you put her?’
‘I installed Lady Jocasta in the sitting room, madam.’ His inference he wouldn’t ever ‘put’ anyone anywhere was clear. ‘I’ll inform her you’ll be with her directly. Oh, and the master has already left. He said to tell you he will be home for dinner this evening.’
‘Thank you.’ The fact Stokes could never bring himself to call his employer ‘Bunny’ still amused her. ‘Oh, and Stokes?’
‘Yes, madam?’ His shoulders stiffened slightly as if anticipating an unwelcome request.
‘I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention our house guest to Lady Jocasta.’ Her gaze flicked to Ed’s bedroom door and away again.
‘As you wish, madam.’ His top lip curled a little before he gave an acquiescent nod and left.
Flora carried on down the last flight of stairs to the sitting room, ran her hands down her skirt, summoned a bright smile and counted to three before she pushed the door open.
‘Good morning, Jocasta, this is a surprise.’ She glided forward to receive her cousin’s exuberant kiss. ‘How lovely to see you. You look well.’
Flora had shared a schoolroom with Jocasta and her two elder sisters until they were old enough to attend separate schools in town; an arrangement she had never questioned, but had made sense when she discovered the Trent children were her cousins. Having always been close to Jocasta, referring to her as such came naturally, but she couldn’t quite think of Ed the same way. He would always be her charge, which might explain why she still felt responsible for him.
A year older than Flora, Jocasta’s boundless enthusiasm for everything life had to offer was viewed by some as unbecoming in a wife and mother. Fortunately, her husband, Jeremy, as well as her family, adored everything about her. As for Flora, Jocasta was the sister she had always wanted.
‘I’m in rude health, as they say.’ Jocasta accepted her hug and then resumed her seat. ‘I’m sorry for arriving unexpectedly, but I have some serious news to impart.’
‘Really?’ Apprehension sharpened Flora’s voice. Had news about the body and Ed’s part in it somehow reached the family?
‘Nothing horrible, I assure you, so you can close your mouth, or as Nanny would say, you’ll catch a passing fly.’ She released a burst of delighted laughter and lowered herself onto a sofa. ‘I do love the way you think the worst, which means I cannot resist teasing you. I’m having another baby.’
‘Oh, that’s – that’s wonderful. You had me worried for a moment.’ Flora sank onto the space beside her, a hand pressed to her midriff to still her rapid heartbeat. ‘Congratulations. Have you announced it yet, or is it too soon?’
‘You know me, I’m no good at keeping secrets, so I don’t expect you to keep it either. Jeremy is delighted, of course, and hopes it will be a boy this time, but I don’t think he minds either way. His parents, on the other hand, eagerly anticipate a male heir to the family money.’
‘Don’t they regard your Mabel as an heir? Surely she’s entitled to a share of the family fortune as well?’
A chubby toddler of eighteen months with a halo of golden curls, Mabel was her father’s pride, even if her mother seemed less than enamoured. Jocasta left the child to a nursery maid, in the vague hope she would become more engaging when she grew a little older. A view of parenting universally adopted among Jocasta’s circle, but one which Flora had never felt comfortable challenging.
‘You’re so, well – modern – Flora. You do make me laugh.’ Jocasta removed her gloves with neat, feminine movements and laid them on the sofa beside her. ‘Mabel will never be left out, but you know how reluctant the landed gentry are to split up their estates.’
‘I’m afraid I do,’ Flora said, attempting not to sound too cynical.
‘The day she was born I insisted upon our daughter having a settlement generous enough to ensure she’ll never be at the mercies of a younger brother or, worse, a spendthrift husband.’
‘I apologize for underestimating you, Jocasta.’ Flora felt new respect for her erstwhile irresponsible friend and cousin. ‘When is this longed-for son due?’
‘He’ll be an October baby and we’re going to name him Octavius, or maybe she’ll be an Octavia?’
‘Are you serious?’ Flora’s eyes widened.
‘Not in the slightest.’ Jocasta giggled. ‘But it will cause a stir in the family for a while until we come to our senses. Which will be the consensus when we change
our minds anyway.’ She giggled again.
‘You shouldn’t tease your poor family.’ Flora shook her head slowly. ‘A Libran child then, who will be lazy but fair and appreciate the beauties of life.’ Flora approached the bell pull, torn about whether to feel envy or sympathy for the unborn mite. ‘May I offer you coffee?’
‘Er, no thank you.’ Jocasta grimaced. ‘I can’t stand the smell of the stuff at the moment.’ Her toffee-coloured eyes widened in eager anticipation. ‘I wouldn’t mind some tea though, and some cake if your cook has some freshly baked. I cannot stop eating sweet things with this pregnancy.’
Having delivered instructions to Stokes, Flora scrutinized the ceiling, convinced she had heard Ed’s heavy tread on the floor above.
‘Is something wrong, Flora?’ Jocasta frowned, twisting a chocolate brown curl in her finger. ‘You seem unusually jumpy today.’
‘No, not at all. What was it you were saying?’ The creaks ceased and she relaxed again.
‘I hadn’t said anything actually, but now you ask, how is your plan to bring Lily and Uncle William back together again? You invited them to dinner, didn’t you?’
‘She calls herself Alice now, and yes, the dinner party went extremely well. Although I’ve promised Bunny not to interfere any more. He says if William and Alice wish to spend time together, they will do so without any help from me.’
‘He’s probably right.’ Jocasta straightened in her seat, her lips forming an ‘O’ as an idea occurred to her. ‘I know, I’ll ask Mama to invite Alice to the house party next month. It would be a perfect opportunity to introduce her back into the family. She’s bursting with curiosity as to where she has been all this time. We talked about her often before they went to America.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ Flora’s stomach dropped. The gathering loomed uncomfortably on the horizon, and she and Bunny were still no closer to removing Ed from the list of suspects for Mr Thompson’s murder. ‘It might not be prudent to include your mother’s former lady’s maid in a family party,’ Flora began. ‘After all, your Mama persuaded William to cancel their wedding all those years ago because she didn’t want her younger brother marrying a servant.’
‘You’re worrying unnecessarily.’ Jocasta waved her away. ‘Grandmamma was the most fervent objector and she’s dead now. Mama is a different person these days. One could say she embraces scandal rather than avoids it.’
‘Which isn’t the reassurance I hoped for.’ The tea had arrived and Flora busied herself with crockery and portioning out Mrs Cope’s lemon sponge.
‘I’m simply saying she has accepted you as her niece and doesn’t think twice about introducing you as such.’
‘I know, sometimes it embarrasses me more than it does her.’ At a recent luncheon at Fullers restaurant, Flora had become the unwelcome centre of attention for that very reason.
‘I enjoy telling people you’re my cousin, just so I can watch their inner debate as to whether or not they should ask me to explain. Incidentally, most of them don’t, out of politeness, so you are something of a mystery. Besides, Mama still feels guilty about Uncle William.’
Flora did not comment, although since finding out her true parentage, she had often wondered what her life would have been like as William and Alice’s child.
‘Mama anticipated he would forget Lily – I mean Alice – within months and marry some American socialite,’ Jocasta went on. ‘That he remained single was a constant disappointment. She’ll be delighted to hear they are back together.’
‘William and Alice aren’t together,’ Flora reminded her. At least not yet. ‘The last thing they need is gossip and criticism.’
‘Don’t give society too much credit, Flora,’ Jocasta said through a mouthful of cake. ‘We love to drag people down. It’s not even malicious, we do it to shore up our own failures and insecurities. Makes us feel superior.’ Jocasta removed cake crumbs from the corner of her mouth with a finger. ‘Believe me, no one really minds where you or Alice came from as long as the stock is good.’
The fragrance of lemon and almond from Jocasta’s plate made Flora’s mouth water, but she cut herself an almost transparent slice with the excuse she was keeping Jocasta company.
‘Eddy will be at the house party, of course, before he returns to Oxford.’ Jocasta tossed three sugar cubes into her tea and stirred noisily. ‘He said he would be coming up to town for a few days, but the wretch hasn’t so much as called me to tell me when he’s arriving.’
Flora’s hand stilled on the teapot as she filled her cup. ‘You know what Ed is like, I expect he’s busy with his friends.’ She set the china back carefully on the tray. ‘Young men about town are always dashing off to restaurants, theatres and so on.’
‘Yes, you’re probably right.’ Jocasta sighed and stared off as she chewed. ‘He won’t want to spend time with his matronly big sister in any case. Silly of me to even expect it.’ A tiny frown appeared between her brows and she tilted her head as she took another bite. ‘Incidentally, when did you start calling him Ed? Was that his idea or yours?’
‘I… er cannot remember.’ She fiddled with an embroidery hoop containing a half-finished initial on a handkerchief which Sally must have left behind. Flora hated embroidery. ‘He must have mentioned it when I last saw him.’ Her gaze went to Jocasta’s skirt as she searched for something to distract her. ‘I do like your outfit, Jo, where did you get it?’
‘What this?’ Jocasta returned her plate to the table, stood and twirled in front of Flora, displaying the café-au-lait skirt embroidered with a diamond pattern between knee and ankle, teamed with a matching jacket trimmed with turquoise piping. ‘Maryanne Fielding took me to her new couture house. Chevrons are de rigueur this season. They are everywhere.’
‘I had no idea you frequented a couture house, Jo?’
‘You must let me take you there sometime.’ Jocasta took the opportunity of being upright to check her appearance in the over mantel mirror.
‘What does a couture house offer which a seamstress cannot?’ Flora asked.
‘Exclusivity, my dear,’ she spoke over one shoulder before turning back to the mirror again. ‘They offer designs unavailable anywhere else but that are also instantly recognisable, so everyone knows which house you patronize. It’s like membership of an exclusive club where the name represents not only the tailor’s skill but also how much it costs our husbands.’
‘What a shallow world you live in, Jo.’ Flora smiled, bemused by the aristocracy’s love of private clubs and elite organisations.
‘At least I’ll never drown.’ Her shoulders lifted briefly in a girlish gesture every inch her own as she resumed her seat. ‘The House of Joel is run by two delightful ladies, Miss Ruby and Miss Renee, who design and make one-off pieces for society ladies. Maryanne took me to a showing and I was immediately smitten. It’s just off Bond Street. If you do decide to visit, just mention my name, or better still, Maryanne Fielding’s.’
‘Maybe I will,’ Flora replied, but with no real intention of abandoning her hard-working seamstress whose hands provided for four children and an out-of-work husband.
‘Is there any more tea, Flora?’ Jocasta frowned into her empty cup and reached for another slice of cake with her other hand.
‘Oh, yes of course.’ That Jocasta appeared set for the rest of the morning sent Flora’s stomach into freefall. She hoped Ed wouldn’t get bored and sneak out of his room.
The conversation turned to babies, with Jocasta opining about losing her figure during the hottest months of the summer; all accompanied by three slices of cook’s excellent cake and several cups of tea.
‘Goodness, is that the time?’ She gave the clock a horrified glance. ‘I’m meeting Blanche Hemming for some shopping and then luncheon. I had better get a move on.’ She scrambled to her feet. ‘I expect we’ll next see you at the house party. I cannot wait to meet Alice.’
‘Neither can I.’ Flora summoned a smile as she showed Jocasta out,
hoping nothing would prevent the house party going ahead. She and Bunny planned to travel to Gloucestershire with Jocasta and her husband in their town coach, Jeremy having not yet succumbed to the delights of motor travel. With another Fitzhugh baby on the way, Flora doubted he would any time soon.
She closed the front door on her guest and leaned against it, releasing a slow breath. Suppose they couldn’t prove Ed’s innocence before then? Not only would they have to break the dreadful news to his parents but admit they had known about it at the beginning and, despite their efforts, had failed to exonerate their son.
The responsibility weighed heavily as Flora dragged her feet up the stairs, wishing Inspector Maddox would call soon with some welcome news.
Chapter 10
What had been no more than a jumble of disconnected thoughts during Jocasta’s visit solidified into a plan by the time her guest had left. The first part of her strategy was to write to Mrs Tilney, the lady Amy had mentioned as being a close friend of Sylvia Thompson. While dressing, she pondered how, as a stranger she might phrase the letter in order to elicit information about the Thompsons.
‘She’ll most likely think I have a colossal cheek and tear it up or inform the police I’m a suspicious character who needs a visit from the constabulary,’ Flora muttered under her breath as she examined her reflection in the hall mirror. Her white-on-white embroidered blouse with a fluted front yoke and a straight teal wool skirt was perfect for her planned expedition.
‘Are you talking to me, madam?’ Sally asked as she approached, a pile of linens in her arms most likely destined for the laundry.
‘I’m simply thinking aloud.’ Flora tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, amused at the fact her maid had finally learned to call her ‘Madam’ and not her habitual ‘Missus’, the lesson having been an arduous one. ‘Have you seen Lord Edward?’
‘Not since breakfast.’ Sally moved closer, lowering her voice, ‘He’s in a lot of trouble, ain’t he?’
The Bloomsbury Affair Page 9
