Lady Rights a Wrong Read online

  “Lady Cecilia, Miss Hughes, how kind you are to come today,” she said. She looked sad but composed in her black silk dress and hat, and even smiled wider when she saw Jack’s basket. “And you brought Sir Jack!”

  “I hope he won’t be in the way; he simply yowled and howled when we tried to leave him behind,” Cecilia said.

  “Not at all. Mother would have enjoyed him. Do let me show you to some empty seats. Perhaps you would like to come to Primrose Cottage after? I can give you the bicycle then. We’ll be returning to London as soon as possible. We can aid the inquiry from there, I’m sure.”

  “Of course,” Cecilia said, but she knew not everyone wanted to go back to London. The Winters seemed to want to stay in Danby permanently. She studied the faces of the crowd as they followed Anne toward the front. Mary Winter was sniffling into her handkerchief, while her husband looked rather bored by it all. “Where is Miss Black? Is she still ill?”

  “I fear so,” Anne said, her tone unreadable. “Your excellent Dr. Mitchell was with her when we left. I’m sure he will give her some laudanum; she keeps talking about Mother’s ghost and it makes her quite agitated.” She led Cecilia and Jane to some seats near the front and to the side. “Forgive me, I must greet the rest of the guests. Thank you again for coming; it’s so kind.”

  Cecilia and Jane settled into their seats, Jack in his basket at their feet as they listened to the music, the hushed whispers. Had it only been a few days since the excitement of Mrs. Price’s rally, her stirring speeches? It seemed ages; everything was so different now.

  “My lady?” Jane asked. “What do you think he would want here?” She gestured to Inspector Hennesy, who hovered near the door, hat in hand, looking rather uncomfortable.

  “I suppose he wants to see if anyone does anything suspicious,” Cecilia said. “In the novels, don’t the villains sometimes come to funerals to gloat?”

  “Well, Sergeant Dunn told me once I should take care and not go out in the evenings alone. Maybe they know something we don’t.”

  “Interesting,” Cecilia murmured.

  There was a small stir of latecomers at the door, and to Cecilia’s surprise, Henry Price walked down the rows and sat down beside her. He looked all that was proper for a widower, a black band on his arm, his face composed in solemn lines, perfectly polite but perfectly distant.

  “Lady Cecilia,” he said with a bow of his head. “I hear that you befriended my wife and elder daughter in recent days. That is most kind of you to take the time for them. You must have many duties at Danby Hall.”

  His tone struck her as coolly condescending, like her mother at some of her charity benefits. And of course, he was quite wrong. Her duties at Danby helping her mother write invitations and trying to play the piano were not exactly onerous. She would probably be even less busy when Patrick and Annabel married. It seemed quite silly next to the Union’s work.

  “Not at all,” she said. “They have been very kind to me. I enjoy their company; their conversation is most fascinating.”

  “Indeed?” Mr. Price looked doubtful. “I am not sure about Anne, but yes, my wife could be quite charming when she wished to be.”

  “Were you much in love once?” Cecilia remembered Miss Merriman and all her suitors.

  Mr. Price frowned. “When I was younger, and quite foolish, I may have imagined myself so, Lady Cecilia. Amelia was beautiful and vivacious, where I was terribly sunk into my work. But beware the whirlwind passions of youth, my dear. They do lead a person quite astray.”

  Cecilia thought of her own distant romantic prospects and nodded. “And you were—led astray?”

  He laughed wryly. “In a manner of speaking. Our views of life, our wishes for the future, proved to be quite incompatible. Family life should be a haven of peace.”

  She wondered if he did have a prospect of a “new” family now, as the rumors of his love life in London said. Did he need to get rid of his wife to move forward into a haven of peace?

  There was no time to say more, as the memorial service began. As a young lady in her white gown and sash played the violin, more Union members came onstage bearing wreaths, and Anne rose to deliver a eulogy. All the while, Mr. Price sat next to Cecilia in quiet watchfulness, his hands folded serenely on the handle of his silver walking stick.

  * * *

  “Shall I find Mr. Collins and tell him we’re ready to go back to Danby, then, my lady? I think he’s waiting at Mr. Talbot’s shop,” Jane asked as they emerged from the sadness of the hall into the gray day. Anne and Nellie had already vanished, and Monty and Mary were walking away toward their own lodgings. Jack seemed to be snoozing quietly in his basket, but Cecilia could see the gleam of his bright eyes between the wicker slats. He was watching everything, too.

  “Yes, of course. Would you mind waiting at the shop with Mr. Collins, Jane? Have some tea, see if there’s anything new on the shelves. I have to go by Primrose Cottage to fetch the bicycle, and then I will come and find you.” She also had to find out if Jesse had learned anything from Lord Elphin at the Crown.

  “Yes, my lady. Come along now, Jack, and be on your good behavior at Mr. Talbot’s shop with all those breakables.”

  Cecilia watched Jane take up Jack’s basket and walk away, and she turned toward Primrose Cottage. She still felt sad after the service, and worried about the Prices. The cottage looked as well as could be expected. The shutters were open to let in the pale-gray light, and smoke made a silver spiral from the chimney.

  As Cecilia knocked on the door, she found it was ajar, and she pushed it open. There were trunks and hatboxes stacked in the small foyer, as if Anne was ready to fly at the first available moment. Nellie came hurrying down the stairs, a valise in her hands, but Cora was nowhere to be seen.

  “Oh, Lady Cecilia, do come in!” Nellie called, adding her case to the pile of luggage. “Would you care to wait in the sitting room? Miss Anne won’t be long. I’ll bring some tea in just as soon as I finish carrying down these boxes.”

  “No hurry, Nellie. I am quite fine waiting,” Cecilia answered. She made her way into the sitting room, which had a cheerful fire crackling in the grate but didn’t seem to have been tidied anytime recently. Luckily, she found the table still cluttered, with the scraps of paper scattered amid the glasses and cards, and she snatched one to tuck into her handbag and examine later.

  “Oh, Lady Cecilia,” Anne said, rushing into the sitting room. She tucked a stray lock of dark hair back into its braided knot and brushed some dust off her black skirt. “The bicycle is ready, but it seems we needn’t hurry quite so much after all. Inspector Hennesy has left a message to ask if we can stay a little longer, which is such a nuisance as we’re nearly packed. I’ve told Nellie she can leave on the evening train, though, as she is so eager to return to London. I have the feeling she would quit my employ rather than stay here a moment longer. There isn’t much for her to do around the cottage. I was so sure I could help with any inquiries from my own home now.”

  Cecilia thought of the inspector’s warnings. “That must be a great inconvenience.”

  Anne frowned. “Indeed. There is a lot of work to be done in London now, to make sure the Union is kept on a steady course. Now Mrs. Palmer will have to run the office for a few days.”

  “Is Mrs. Palmer allowed to leave, then?”

  “It seems so. But Cora must stay until everything is made clear.”

  “What of your sister and her husband?”

  Anne shook her head. “I haven’t spoken to them. I would imagine Monty will be anxious to get back to his work, unless he thinks he has some inheritance to be hanging about for. Really, I am not entirely sure why any of us must stay. It’s just London, a train ride away, not Abyssinia.”

  “I am sure you have so much work to be done in London.”

  “Yes, especially with Mother gone and so many decisions to make about t
he Union. It is my responsibility now, and I think . . .” She paused with a short laugh. “But you do not need to worry about such things. Come, let me get the bicycle for you. Do we have time for a quick riding lesson?”

  * * *

  Cecilia made her way downstairs early for dinner, long before the last gong, hoping to find Jesse and have a quiet word about what he’d found out from Lord Elphin. Luckily, he was alone for the moment, putting the final touches to the dining table. Silver epergnes of fruit gleamed in the faint light, while the crystal he carefully placed at each spot glittered.

  “Lady Cecilia,” he said calmly, quite as if he was expecting her, as he put the polish to the silver fruit bowl in the center of the table and made sure it was straight on the white damask cloth.

  Cecilia tiptoed closer and whispered, “What did you talk about with Lord Elphin today, Jesse? I didn’t see him again after the service.”

  Jesse grinned. “I ought to be due hardship pay, my lady, for listening to the old boor for so long.”

  Cecilia laughed. “Indeed so. Above and beyond.”

  He rearranged the pears and hothouse peaches in the bowl. “He’s certainly not happy with ladies like the Prices. Railed on and on about how they’re ruining the fabric of society and causing unhappiness in the family, though I’m not exactly sure how that affects him. Maybe there’s something about his own wife? No one seems to know much about her. Maybe she was an independent sort, too. After a measure of Mr. Perkin’s finest lagers, Lord Elphin’s conversation isn’t the most coherent, I must say.”

  “There was really a Lady Elphin, then?” Cecilia cried, surprised.

  “Did you never meet her?”

  “Not at all. I’ve never heard of her. But then, I seldom see Lord Elphin in a social capacity. He tends to stay on his own estate, unless he’s haranguing ladies for wanting the vote. What did he say about this Lady Elphin?”

  Jesse shrugged. “Just that they were happy once, until she decided to start reading. And women who go beyond their natural spheres are ruining the treasured social order that made England great. You abandon your children, let your households starve because you won’t attend to the kitchen . . .”

  “We drink in pubs?”

  Jesse gave her a mock-stern glance that made her giggle. “That’s the worst thing of all, my lady.”

  Cecilia laughed. “I did have a ginger beer the other day at the Crown. It wasn’t as thrilling as I expected. But if I don’t think I’ve heard of a Lady Elphin, I have definitely never heard of an Elphin Junior. Maybe if he did have a wife, she left him ages ago, before there were any children to neglect by demanding the vote. Good for her then, whoever she is.”

  “I could ask my aunt if she ever knew any Lady Elphin, or any old scandals there.”

  “Good idea, Jesse.” Mrs. Mabry and her late husband had owned the greengrocer’s shop for decades; nothing in the neighborhood would have escaped her notice.

  “I did get the sense that, whatever bee he has in his bonnet, it does have to do with the Prices,” Jesse said, turning a wineglass so it faced the right way, the engraved crest at front.

  “The Prices? He does seem to dislike them, but they’re London people.”

  Jesse shrugged. “I’m not sure, but he certainly detests them. Says they’re leading the innocents of this district astray in their quest to do all that fabric-of-society destroying.” He smiled at her over the gilded edge of the glass. “Are you being led astray, my lady?”

  “I should hope so. What fun is life without a little straying?”

  “Daisy did say . . .”

  There was a note of familiarity in his voice when he said that name that gave Cecilia a rather uncomfortable twinge of—could it be jealousy? Certainly not. “Daisy, is it?”

  “Miss Perkins, the landlord’s daughter. A very nice girl, very observant. She said Lord Elphin likes to complain about modern Delilahs like Mrs. Price whenever he’s in his cups. Women of the London stews of iniquity.”

  Cecilia sniffed and pushed away an image of Jesse flirting with Daisy over the bar. “I think I might need a small visit to a London stew myself, just to see what I can find about the Prices’ past.”

  “You need to go to London, my lady?”

  “Yes, it seems that is where Mrs. Price did most of her work, and her home is there as well. Maybe the mysterious Lady Elphin is there, too. And who knows what else.” Like Mr. Winter’s law office, which he seemed to be so keen to leave. And the Union headquarters. “Yes, I need to ask a few questions in London.”

  Jesse smoothed the tablecloth with a concerned frown. “I hope you’ll be careful there.”

  “Careful?” Everyone seemed so intent on warning her lately. First the inspector, now Jesse. And she was more inclined to listen to Jesse.

  “One lady is already dead. And the situation does seem—complicated. Someone might not like questions being asked, you know.”

  Cecilia was touched he cared what might happen to her. “I do promise I’ll be careful. I’ll be much less noticeable in London than I would be here, anyway.” The last gong sounded, a brassy echo through the cavernous rooms of Danby, and Cecilia realized everyone would be downstairs in only a few minutes. “I should go. Thank you so much, Jesse. You have been such a great help.”

  He grimaced. “I’m afraid my questions only made things murkier.”

  “I do have the feeling lots of those puzzle pieces won’t appear to fit together at all—until suddenly they do.”

  She waved at him one more time and hurried to the Yellow Music Room. She was sitting quietly by the window, her mother’s new copy of The Lady in her hands, when her parents appeared. Patrick and Annabel followed them, and Redvers with his tray of sherry glasses.

  “You’re early tonight, dear,” her mother said, smoothing her kid gloves and straightening the yellow lace of her sleeves.

  Annabel sat down beside Cecilia and gently turned the magazine right side up in her hands. “These fashionable coiffures might look a little better this way, Cec.”

  Cecilia felt her cheeks turn hot. “Oh. Yes. I did wonder how to get curls to land that way.”

  “It was lovely seeing Mr. Brown at tea the other day. I do hope he can come again soon,” Lady Avebury said, carefully casual. “So kind of him to make sure you got home safely, Cecilia! He is such a charming young man. St. Swithin’s is lucky to have him.”

  “Yes, indeed. He is very nice,” Cecilia answered warily. “By the way, Mama, I had a letter from Aunt Maggie last week.” Mrs. Margaret Solent had been Lady Avebury’s best friend since their school days, and Cecilia quite adored her. Even though Aunt Maggie and her mother had been debs together, Aunt Maggie had married an army officer with a large family inheritance when Lady Avebury married her earl, and then was widowed after only a few years. She had spent her time since traveling the world and sending back thrilling accounts of her adventures to Cecilia.

  “How is dear Maggie?” Lady Avebury asked. “I hadn’t realized she was back from Persia yet.”

  “Oh yes. I was thinking I should visit her for a few days in London, help her settle in at home again,” Cecilia said, trying to be breezily convincing. “I could also order a new dress for the bazaar. Nothing I have seems quite right.”

  “London?” her mother said doubtfully. “But we haven’t been back at Danby long, and the shooting party is coming up after the bazaar.”

  “I could go with you,” Annabel said. “I would love to look at some of the new hats at Madame Millier’s salon. Perhaps we could go to the theater, as well? I was sad to miss that new show Buzz-Buzz; it sounded like such fun.”

  Cecilia was suddenly thrown into a panic. Having Annabel along on her sleuthing trip was not part of her plans! “Oh, I am really such dull company . . .”

  “You give yourself too little credit, Cec,” Annabel said with a light little laugh. “
Besides, surely we should get to know each other better now?” She glanced at Patrick, who ducked behind his botany book.

  “Well,” Lady Avebury said slowly, “I suppose if Annabel goes with you, and it’s only for a few days . . .”

  “Yes, let them go have a little fun, Emmaline,” Lord Avebury said, rattling his evening papers. “Surely, seeing a play and buying some new hats can’t do any harm.”

  “And I will help Cecilia pick out a lovely new dress for the bazaar,” Annabel said. “I’m sure Mr. Brown would appreciate that.”

  Lady Avebury sighed. “Very well. But only for a few days. You must be back in time to help me set up the bazaar.”

  “Will you go, too, Patrick?” Lord Avebury asked.

  Patrick glanced up from his book, startled. “Me? My experiment is at a delicate place right now. I couldn’t possibly leave it for even a day.”

  Cecilia sighed with relief. At least her entire family wouldn’t be there for her to escape.

  “You would only get in the way of our lovely shopping anyway, Patrick dear,” Annabel said with a laugh. “So, it’s settled. Cecilia and I will just jaunt off to London for a few days.”

  Cecilia made herself smile—and resolved to write to Aunt Maggie right after dinner and beg her to accept some unexpected guests in a good cause.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Only once the train gathered speed, launching out of Danby Village station toward London, could Cecilia really take a deep breath. Her mother had seemed reluctant to let them go until almost the last minute, until Aunt Maggie’s letter saying they would be most welcome and Annabel’s insistence she must have a new hat convinced her they couldn’t get into too much trouble.