London Calling (11 page)

“Oh. Oh, dear.” An anxious frown appeared between Miss Fanny’s brows. “I hope none of the maids . . . ‌ Were they important papers, Charles?”

“Important enough,” the Admiral replied briefly.

“Oh, dear,” Miss Fanny said again. She fluttered her hands helplessly. “I’m sorry, Charles. I shall certainly speak to the servants most sharply.”

“Yes, do.” The Admiral was still frowning. “And I shall keep my desk locked, in the future.”

With that, he wheeled and went out, leaving the women alone once more. Miss Fanny, hands twisting a handkerchief, sank down gratefully into a chair.

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. So upsetting. Not that I understand anything of such matters myself, of course.”

Susanna hesitated. Then: “Are you sure it was one of the servants?” she asked Miss Fanny. “Has anyone else gone into the Admiral’s study, do you know?”

Miss Fanny shook her head. “Why, it might have been anyone in the house, I suppose. The door is not kept locked. Anyone might have wandered in. Why, I was there myself, earlier, looking for Charles.”

Marianne, from her place by the fire, looked up suddenly. “I saw someone going into Father’s study last night,” she said.

Susanna turned. “You did? Whom?”

“Who’s the one who’s always making up to Father‌—‌hanging about him every moment he’s here?” Marianne’s lips twisted scornfully. “Mrs. Careme.”

Chapter 11

“And now we ought really to take our leave of you,” Aunt Ruth said, rising. She held out her hand to Marianne. “Miss Tremain, thank you so much for your kind invitation. I am sure I speak for both Susanna and myself when I say that we accept with pleasure.”

Susanna looked sharply at her aunt, and Ruth went on, turning to her, “I was just telling Miss Marianne how we have recently discovered that the drains in the house we have rented must be entirely fumigated. Such an inconvenience, and such an unpleasant smell to the process, as well. And Miss Marianne”‌—‌Ruth laid a hand on the girl’s arm‌—‌“has very kindly invited us to stay here while the procedure is completed.”

Miss Fanny frowned. And Marianne looked so completely blank that Susanna wondered whether the invitation was as much news to the other girl as it was to her. But then she said, rather gruffly, “Of course. We shall be glad to have you.”

“Thank you, my dear.” There was genuine liking, Susanna thought, in Ruth’s smile at Marianne. “Susanna and I shall go home to pack our things, and return later this afternoon.”

#

Susanna managed to wait until she and her aunt were in the carriage and driving home before she said, “Having the drains fumigated? For heaven’s sake,
can
you fumigate the drains in a London town house?”

“I have no idea.” Ruth’s face was serene. “But I needed a reason for our house to be unlivable for a few days, though not permanently ruined, and that was the best I could do. Besides, if I do not know, you may be certain that Miss Marianne does not. And Miss Fanny, for all her chatter about domesticity, is far too busy being spiteful to bother acquainting herself with the actual details of running a home.”

“You do not like her?” Susanna asked.

Ruth frowned, a faint line appearing between her brows. “I am sorry for her. But no, I cannot say I like her. Why? What was your opinion?”

Susanna recalled her hour’s conversation with Miss Fanny. She
was
sorry for the older woman. And yet there was something unpleasant about speaking with her‌—‌all the anger and bitterness wrapped up inside Miss Fanny’s vague, twittering manners. It was like biting into a whipped-cream pastry and finding it laced with poison. “The same, I suppose,” she said.

“Miss Marianne is a very sweet girl, though, underneath that crust of resentment against the world,” Ruth went on. “I am more sorry for her than ever. It is hard to be as young as she is.”

They were both silent a moment. Then, without looking at Susanna, Ruth said, “That was an interesting story of Admiral Tremain’s, wasn’t it? About someone tampering with his papers? And Miss Marianne said that she saw Mrs. Careme in the Admiral’s study.”

“Aunt Ruth—” Susanna began.

But Ruth waved her to silence. “No. You need not tell me anything more. But I trust you will satisfy my raging curiosity when this is all over? Or perhaps we might establish some sort of code for you to answer questions without having to speak? One blink for yes, two for no . . .”

Despite herself, Susanna smiled. “I do owe you a debt, Aunt Ruth‌—‌for managing to procure an invitation to stay in Admiral Tremain’s house. Thank you. For your help and‌—‌and for everything else. I am glad not to be in this alone.”

Ruth smiled. “Do not thank me, my dear. Just think what an adventure I shall have to relate to your uncle when I get home.”

Then she broke off and studied Susanna’s face a long moment, her brown eyes kind. “And try not to worry about James, my dear,” she added. “I expect he is well able to look after himself.”

Chapter 12

When Susanna and Ruth arrived back at the Tremain house, they encountered Miss Fanny on the front steps‌—‌apparently just returned from a shopping expedition, for she had a covered basket over her arm.

“Oh!” Fanny turned at the sight of them. She wore a brown velvet pelisse and an ancient-looking black bonnet trimmed with jet beads, and she looked flustered, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“Oh, there the two of you are.” She gestured to the basket she held. “I have just been to the fishmonger’s. I like to be sure that the carp is quite fresh‌—‌dear Charles is so very particular about the fish we serve.”

Ruth exchanged a glance with Susanna, then said, gravely, “I hope we are not putting you to any trouble.”

“Trouble? Oh, dear me, no. Of course, it all makes for a great deal more work, but there, I will not complain. I am only glad to be useful in my own small way.”

Before either Susanna or Ruth could answer, they were interrupted by a voice from behind. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

Turning, Susanna saw Major Haliday approach the front steps. He was dressed for the street in his regimental coat of blue, his face still a little flushed from the cold outside‌—‌and he seemed in high good humor. He swung his walking stick jauntily and whistled a little through his teeth as he bounded up the steps towards them.

“A delightful day, is it not?” The Major bowed gallantly, then said, “Miss Fanny. Pray, allow me.” He reached for the shopping basket. “Is this to go to the kitchen?”

But Miss Fanny gave a little shriek of alarm, and clutched the basket more tightly. “No. That is, no thank you. Pray, don’t trouble.”

Agitation made her almost incoherent. “I shall take it myself. I must speak with Cook, in any case. It is not heavy. I am well able to manage.”

Clutching the basket tightly, she opened the front door and scuttled down the hall, towards the green baize door that led to the kitchen.

Major Haliday watched her go with a tolerant shrug, then spread out a hand, inviting Susanna and Ruth to precede him into the house. “After you, ladies.”

Susanna followed her aunt into the entrance hall. And then she and Ruth both stopped as Helen Haliday emerged from the drawing room.

She wore a blue silk gown of elegant cut, with long lace sleeves and a demi-train, but her face looked pale and shadowed, the skin stretched taut over cheeks and temples, and her mouth was set in an angry line.

She looked past Susanna and her aunt to where Major Haliday still stood in the doorway. “Where have you been?”

Major Haliday sketched an airy gesture and smiled. “Out and about, my dear. Out and about. Making my fortune.”

Mrs. Haliday’s face hardened. “I suppose that means you’ve been out gambling again.”

Her voice was flat with contempt. But for once, Major Haliday appeared quite untroubled by his wife’s scorn. He threw back his head and laughed. “That would be telling, now wouldn’t it? Never you mind about where I’ve been, my dear. That’s my affair. And the rewards are entirely mine.”

With a final laugh, he turned and went past his wife towards the door of the library, still whistling softly through his teeth.

An awkward silence fell after the library door had closed behind him. Susanna, watching Helen Haliday’s face, thought that she would even be glad of an interruption from Miss Fanny. Mrs. Haliday’s eyes had filled with sudden tears, and her expression was twisted with such naked misery that it seemed almost indecent to look at her.

Ruth glanced at Susanna again and said, in a murmur, “I suppose we can hardly march upstairs and open bedroom doors until we find ours.”

Mrs. Haliday roused at that, though, shaking her head and blinking hard. “Oh, I can show you which rooms you’ve been given. I noticed Miss Fanny overseeing the maids this morning while they got them ready. I suppose your coachman has already unloaded your bags? Ring the bell when we get upstairs and I am sure someone will bring your luggage up to you.”

She led the way up the stairs, with Susanna and Ruth following behind.

Ruth’s room proved to be a spacious, airy chamber towards the front of the house, with delicately gilded furniture and a blue flowered carpet on the floor.

“And this one is yours, Miss Ward.” Mrs. Haliday opened a door next to Ruth’s, displaying a room very much like the first, though Susanna’s carpet was peach-colored, and her bed was a carved mahogany four-poster.

“Thank you,” Susanna said.

Instead of leaving, though, Mrs. Haliday took a step towards her, into the room.

Ruth had remained in her own chamber, so that Susanna and the older woman were alone.

Mrs. Haliday paced towards the hearth, where a warm fire already blazed. Then she said, abruptly, “Take care how you choose a husband, Miss Ward.”

Her voice was harsh, and she spoke as though the words would not be suppressed.

Susanna was silent a moment, then said, “Marriage is a great risk for any woman, I suppose.”

“A risk, yes.” Mrs. Haliday gave a short, bitter laugh. “Rather like a gamble. Only if you bet wrong . . .”

Her face twisted as she stared unseeingly into the flames. “When my father died, he left me with a handsome legacy. That is why Brooke married me. Of course, at the time I thought he was sincerely in love with me.”

She broke off and looked at Susanna. “I don’t know why I should be telling you any of this‌—‌except that I feel suddenly I must speak of it, or go mad.”

Susanna hesitated, struggling with a pang of conscience. The misery in Mrs. Haliday’s face was quite sincere. And it seemed callous to take advantage of her sudden urge to confide. But she was also remembering Major Haliday’s air of suppressed triumph downstairs‌—‌his broad smile as he told his wife that he had been making his fortune. He might have meant gambling. But equally, he might have meant—

Susanna made up her mind. “Tell me anything you like,” she said, “if it will help.”

Mrs. Haliday smiled a small, bitter smile. “I don’t know that it can help‌—‌but you are kind.” She lifted her shoulders. “Really, there is not much more to tell. I was taken in completely by Brooke. He was such a dashing figure‌—‌in his uniform, just back from the war. And he can be very charming when he likes. There was no one to make any objections to our marrying. There was only my mother, after my father died, and she was as much deceived by Brooke as I was. So we were married‌—‌and I found out almost at once what kind of a husband I’d picked.”

She was silent a moment, staring into the fire, her face bleak. “Everything I had‌—‌money, property, jewels, everything‌—‌belonged to Brooke after we married. That is the law. And Brooke certainly saw it as his. He started to spend it almost at once. Drink‌—‌gambling‌—‌horses. Even other women.”

Mrs. Haliday’s eyes met Susanna’s. “Pretty, isn’t it?” she said bitterly. “Keeping mistresses on his wife’s money. Well, one can’t go on like that forever. Money runs out. He has gambled and drunk his way through nearly the whole of my fortune. Soon we will have nothing at all left. And I am powerless to stop him.” She broke off. “Powerless,” she said again.

For a moment, Susanna didn’t reply. “And is there no one you can go to for help?” She asked. “No one who might be able to influence your husband?”

“Influence
Brooke
?” Mrs. Haliday gave another of those short, hard laughs. “Not likely. He has far too good an opinion of himself to listen to what anyone else has to say.”

She stopped and was silent, her gaze turned inwards. And then‌—‌Susanna thought she was likely regretting the impulse that had led her to confide her troubles‌—‌she turned and swept towards the door, the blue silk gown trailing behind her. At any rate, she did not meet Susanna’s eyes again as she said, “I shall see you at dinner, then.”

#

Dinner proved an awkward, uncomfortable meal, with little in the way of conversation, and frequent long, unpleasant pauses. The Admiral appeared troubled, and presided over the head of the table in frowning silence, while Marianne looked sullen, and Miss Fanny anxious.

Even Mrs. Careme seemed affected. She wore a shimmering gown of tangerine-colored silk, but her manner lacked its usual animation, and the color in her cheeks looked hard and set, as though it owed more to art than nature. She sat in the hostess’s place at the foot of the table, but ate and spoke little, and from time to time Susanna caught her gaze straying across the table to where Major Haliday sat, with an expression Susanna could not quite read in her slanted green eyes.

Major Haliday, alone, appeared untroubled. He seemed in the best of spirits, laughing and jesting and carrying on an animated monologue, to which scarcely anyone responded. Towards the end of the meal, he lifted his glass, which had already been refilled several times.

“I’d like to propose a toast.” His voice was growing a trifle thick, but he turned to Mrs. Careme and went on. “To our fair hostess. Long may she continue the brightest jewel in Admiral Tremain’s crown. The most glittering ornament . . .”

“Yes, thank you.” Mrs. Careme cut him off before he could go on, her voice tight and clipped. “That will do. I think it’s time we ladies withdrew. Shall we?”