arah found herself repeatedly falling into step a few paces behind Raven as they made their way along the Cowgate. A pattern had emerged whereby Raven would slow down in response, only for her to drift into the rear again soon after. Eventually he stopped dead and turned to her with a querulous expression.
‘Why are you dawdling? Are you trying to make us late?’
It took his saying this for her to understand what she was doing. She had an impulse to apologise but she swallowed it.
‘I was not dawdling,’ she replied. ‘I am more used to accompanying Miss Grindlay or occasionally Mrs Simpson, servants not being expected or indeed permitted to walk alongside their employers. It is a matter of habit rather than a reflection of your perceived status,’ she added.
Raven’s ignorance of the everyday practicalities of her station was proving a source of frustration to himself and of teeth-grating irritation to Sarah. In the ensuing couple of days following their late-night discussion, he kept appearing in the kitchen or intercepting her in hallways with the same question.
‘Have you had opportunity?’ he would ask.
After a good half-dozen replies in the negative, she laid it out for him.
‘My duties do not allow much time for social visits; certainly not during hours that are safe or appropriate for a young woman to be out upon the streets. Besides, it is not as though I can simply knock upon the Sheldrakes’ kitchen door and start asking questions. It would be best if it appeared a casual encounter.’
‘You said you know this girl. When do you normally see her?’
‘My opportunities to converse with Milly in the past have generally been in the gift of happenstance. As I said before, we would sometimes meet when we were both on errands, such as to the haberdasher’s or occasionally Duncan and Flockhart.’
‘You were out in the town only today,’ he pointed out.
‘I was with Miss Grindlay,’ she responded.
Raven looked exasperated. ‘Then the Lord knows how long I might be waiting.’
Sarah was about to give him a broadside by explaining that the only free time she got was on Sundays, when she realised that she knew precisely where and when she would find Milly and indeed the entire Sheldrake household.
‘You will be waiting until the Lord’s day,’ she said. ‘I can speak to Milly after Sunday worship.’
‘The Sheldrakes attend the same church as we do?’
‘No,’ she confessed, immediately seeing where her plan would fall down. The Simpson household all had to attend Sunday worship together at St John’s, Dr Simpson favouring Thomas Guthrie’s sermons above all others. Milly would be in attendance elsewhere. ‘Though perhaps you could suggest to Dr Simpson you have heard that the minister in a particular church is an interesting speaker and that we are both curious to find out his perspective upon certain matters.’
Raven had looked less than hopeful in response to this notion. They both knew it would sound an odd and unlikely thing to suggest to the professor.
‘Do you even know the name of this minister whose church the Sheldrakes attend?’
‘I only know his name,’ Sarah admitted. ‘Not where his church is. He is the Reverend Malachy Grissom.’
At this, Raven’s eyes bulged. ‘You know, I think we just might be able to convince Dr Simpson of my curiosity after all.’
It was for this reason that they were now walking along the Cowgate, Raven having discovered the location they sought. It was a bright, if cold, Sunday morning and yet he seemed to be permanently looking about himself, as though wandering here in the dead of night. This state of anxious vigilance was perhaps why he was so irritated at having to slow down for her.
‘What are you looking for?’ she asked. ‘Anyone would think you were avoiding someone.’
‘I am. Some former acquaintances with whom I’d rather not be reunited.’
‘Why not? Who are they?’
‘They don’t concern you, for which you ought to be grateful.’
‘I thought we agreed you would keep nothing from me.’
‘Only in matters pertaining to this endeavour.’
‘And how am I to know you are telling the truth regarding what matters do or don’t pertain to it?’
‘I was attacked and I had my face slashed, remember? I am apprehensive of running into the culprits again.’
‘But why did they do it? Don’t say you were robbed at random, because I don’t believe you.’
Raven sighed. ‘Because I owe them money, and I don’t have it. Is that clear enough for you?’
It was not. Sarah had plenty more she might ask, not least why he owed them money, but she knew when to leave well alone.
Sarah had been speaking the truth when she said she didn’t dislike him, but she did dislike his presumption of superiority over her, as she disliked it in all young men. Given the same chance, she was confident she would excel over any of them, so it stung when all they saw was a housemaid. Out of necessity, Raven was looking beyond that. Or at least she was offering him the occasion to. She hoped he didn’t disappoint.
‘Why were you so confident that Dr Simpson would sanction this absence from our normal Sunday worship?’ she asked as they passed beneath George IV Bridge.
‘The Reverend Grissom has been campaigning against the use of ether in childbirth. He has been distributing pamphlets about it all over the city.’
‘Why on earth would he want to do that?’
‘Not why on earth. Why in heaven. There is a Bible verse stating that “in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children”. He believes that the pain of childbirth is in some way sacred.’
‘What arrant stupidity. And we are to listen to this man?’
‘I anticipated that Dr Simpson would be curious – or at least amused – to know what else he might have to say. The Bible also states that when you are committing a charitable act, the right hand should not know what the left hand is doing. Given that surgery could be described as a charitable act, perhaps the Reverend might suggest the surgeon be blindfolded, or have one hand tied behind his back out of sight.’
Raven found this notion more amusing than Sarah, but that was because he was missing something rather obvious.
‘He would suggest no such thing, for I doubt it a coincidence that he has chosen to object to the relief of a pain he is certain never to endure. If Grissom had a dose of the toothache, I can’t imagine him finding a theological justification why Mr Sheldrake should not use ether in his dental extractions.’
Raven indicated that the place they sought was just ahead, its congregation already filing through a set of doors on the south side of the Cowgate. It appeared to be a modest meeting hall, and not a church as anyone might ordinarily recognise one.
‘I expected somewhere grander,’ Sarah admitted.
‘Not all ministers of the Free Church were as fortunate as the Reverend Guthrie in retaining their premises following the Disruption,’ Raven told her. ‘Many have had to make do with whatever halls and meeting places can be found.’
Sarah had heard mention of the Disruption, but paid little attention to matters involving pious old men bickering with each other. As she understood it, the schism had come down to the right of patronage, which allowed the state and wealthy land-owners to appoint a minister to a parish over and above the wishes of the parishioners. Those who broke with the main Church four years ago had consequently needed to form their own ministries, with the support of those in the laity who wished to follow them. Hence the ad-hoc nature of this place of worship.
She and Raven slipped inside, taking their seats towards the back. Sarah had seldom found churches to be joyful or inspiring places, but this one seemed particularly drab, and yet very well attended. A few minutes later, she watched the Sheldrake household file in close to the front, their position perhaps reflecting the dentist’s contributions to the new parish’s coffers. Mr Sheldrake walked in at the head of the line, his wife, son and two daughters taking their seats alongside him as Milly and the rest of the household staff slipped into the row behind.
Sheldrake struck Sarah as an unlikely match for his dowdy and grim-faced wife. He was a tall, smartly dressed fellow, slim of build and clean-shaven. In the same way that it was said of certain women that they were handsome, Sheldrake could be said to be pretty: a feminine quality not only to his features, but also in the way he carried himself. His clothes were modern and fashionable to the point that there seemed something incongruously rakish about him, though perhaps any note of finery seemed incongruous in this dour setting.
She glimpsed Milly momentarily between the rows of heads. She looked numb and shocked, trying to suppress tears. Milly would have known for some days about Rose’s death, but Sarah understood from experience that being back in a familiar place for the first time could serve to bring it all home, another reminder of death’s finality.
The room fell silent as the Reverend Grissom entered and took his place behind the lectern that served as his pulpit. He was a small man with the proud gait of one who believed himself to be at least a foot taller. Fine grey hair hung lank around his crown as though draped from a circular pelmet, his pate bald but for a few wispy tufts that Sarah felt the constant urge to ascend the stage and shave. Beneath it his face was dominated by a nose so large and pointed that when he turned his head it was as though he were indicating the direction in which he imminently intended to leave.
Unfortunately, he did not leave for quite some time. He preached at considerable length, though had nothing to say about ether. He talked much of humility whilst his tone, demeanour and indeed every physical gesture emanated self-importance, his permanently serious expression admitting no hint of levity.
Sarah thought it must be exhausting to be constantly dismayed by so many things.
‘Pride makes men fools,’ he said, his voice surprisingly loud for a small man. ‘Vanity makes them seek glory in their own reflection, and they do not seek that reflection merely in the looking glass, but in the admiration of others. How they wish to see it in the faces of their peers, but worst is how they crave to see it in the faces of women.’
His voice dropped as he said this, as though the word itself were obscene.
‘And in this, the worst of women are complicit, for they are the tauntresses. Their pride is served by this. Their pride escalates that of men. They paint themselves, they dress themselves, these jezebels. Not only the fallen ones upon the night-time streets, but in their husbands’ homes too. The proud man seeks their approval. And he seeks that approval manifest in physical knowledge. That is why the greatest sin of a woman is to feed this pride in men, to encourage it. For to do so is to be the occasion of another’s sin, to lead another into temptation.
‘The good wife is modest. The good woman is modest in her appearance and in her manner. It is modesty that I commend, modesty to which I entreat you. As the Lord’s mother was modest.’
Raven leaned towards Sarah and spoke softly as the service ended and the congregation began to disperse.
‘And yet Jesus chose the company of prostitutes over that of preachers.’
Sarah had to stifle a gasp, concerned that his remark might be overheard. However, she suspected that to shock her had been his intention, so she decided to respond in kind, albeit more quietly.
‘I don’t believe your own such dalliances put you closer to the Lord. Was it the sin of pride that made you seek out a woman of the night?’
‘As I recall, the sin of lust was adequate to the task. I cannot pretend to the Reverend Grissom’s modesty, but perhaps he has greater reason to be modest than I.’
Sarah made her way smartly out onto the Cowgate, where worshippers were gathering to trade their Sunday greetings. She and Raven stood close to the doors, the ideal vantage point for interception.
‘You had best keep your distance,’ Sarah told him, watching Mr Sheldrake lead his family down the aisle towards the vestibule. ‘Milly is not going to be very candid with a stranger in our company.’
Raven’s attention appeared to have been taken by something else in any case.
‘Yes, certainly. I’ll meet you back here,’ he said, swiftly departing through the crowd.
Sarah saw Mr and Mrs Sheldrake stop in the vestibule to talk to Reverend Grissom, Milly continuing towards the exit. She stepped into her path and offered a conciliatory smile.
‘Sarah!’ Milly said, surprise in her voice. She sounded meeker than usual, her tones more nasal. Sarah could tell she had cried a great deal in recent days. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I got permission from Dr Simpson to worship here today. I wanted to see you and to tell you how sorry I was to hear about Rose.’
Milly swallowed, looking as though her eyes might fill again. She nodded. ‘Thank you. It has been difficult.’
‘I can’t begin to imagine. I felt so guilty.’
‘Guilty? Why?’
‘Because when I was told she had absconded, I was envious, imagining some exciting life she might have escaped to. I had heard rumours she was seeing someone and had run away with him. Was this true?’
Milly cast an eye to the side, towards the Sheldrakes. It was innocent enough for her to be talking to Sarah, a fellow housemaid, but she was clearly concerned not to be overheard. For the moment, they were not in earshot.
‘I couldn’t say,’ Milly replied. ‘Rose had secrets, and there was a man involved. That much was inescapable.’
Sarah thought this an odd choice of word.
‘Inescapable how?’
Milly glanced again at her employers. She looked afraid she had given something away.
‘I shouldn’t speak further. I’ve said too much as it is.’
‘You can trust me, Milly,’ Sarah implored.
‘I do. But it’s not you I’ve said too much to.’
Sarah placed a hand on her shoulder. The poor girl looked like a hollowed-out shell where once there had been so much more.
‘You must let me know about the funeral,’ Sarah said, trying to keep her talking.
This seemed to burden her even more, tears threatening again.
‘I do not know that there will even be a funeral. And it is my fault.’
‘A policeman came to the house to ask us questions. An Irishman, McLevy. I was only trying to be honest, but because of what I told him, he is of a mind that Rose killed herself.’
‘For what reason would Rose possibly take her own life?’
Milly’s eyes swept to the side again. The Sheldrakes had finished speaking with the Reverend Grissom and were moving towards the door.
‘She was sure she would be dismissed, and she did not know what else she could do.’
Sarah gripped Milly’s arm in case she should walk away.
‘Dismissed for what reason?’
With Mr Sheldrake imminently in earshot, Milly’s last words were but a breath.