I felt stunned. “You think they killed them?”
Tony said, “Jacqui —”
“It’s insane! How could you even think so? I’ve known Joe and Josie my entire life. There’s no way either of them would murder them. Old men? Children ...? No. That goes against everything we believe in!”
The Colonel said, “Mrs. Spadros —”
“No. I won’t believe it.”
“I’m not asking you to believe it,” the Colonel said. “I'm not even accusing anyone. I’m simply telling you what we’ve learned so far.” He leaned upon his armrest. “Tell me about the grandfather.”
My heart was pounding as I wiped a tear away. “He’s ninety. Joe claimed he was sick, dying.”
Colonel Hanafuda nodded. “Men are at their most dangerous when they have nothing to lose.” He rose. “I think you’ve told me what I needed to know.”
Tony had risen when the Colonel did. “How can we help?”
I still sat, too stunned, too upset to move. The Colonel gazed down at me. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to your friends about this meeting.”
I nodded.
“But other than that, go about your ordinary lives. Visit if you wish.” He leaned over to place a hand upon mine. “I’m sorry to have upset you.”
I looked up at him. “They didn’t do this.”
His face was grim, yet his voice was kind. “I hope not. Never fear, we’ll learn the truth of this, one way or another.” He gave my hand a soft squeeze, then left.
While Tony and Sawbuck brought the men out to their waiting carriage, I sat there and cried.
* * *
I’m not sure why the Colonel’s allegations upset me so. I hadn’t seen Joe since before I’d been captured by Jack Diamond, and it’d been longer since I’d seen Josie. I missed them, but I’d been too focused upon my own predicament to go to them.
And I didn’t know what to tell them. I’d returned to Spadros Manor, something I’d vowed never to do. They must be wondering if I’d gone willingly. I’d written once, to let them know I was well, but they’d never replied.
My emotions were in a tangle back then. Some say it’s the proof that women are too fragile to exist without a man’s steady care, but of the two of us, Tony was the one most in agitation.
But that day I was the agitated one, and I felt glad when he returned to assure me all was well.
***
After a week of struggling to get me into my dresses, one day I came in to see Amelia taking them all apart. “I’m using the panels that are still serviceable to combine them,” she said. Soon I had a larger charcoal dress, a larger deep purple gown slashed with satin, and two larger house-dresses.
But then packages from Tenni began to arrive. In one package, she sent a navy dress matching the one I already wore. In the next, a beautiful forest green wrapper and some empire-waisted house dresses with drawstrings which allowed the dress to expand, much like a hot air balloon. She also sent new bloomers with panels which might be added into the front much later, and chemises with laces to expand the chest area as needed.
And she’d sent a note saying she was making a maternity corset and baby clothes!
I certainly wasn’t in need of any such things as yet, nor would ever be if my plan succeeded. But I couldn’t very well order her to stop, or someone would surely wonder at it.
This was too much; I had to find blood tea to end this, and soon.
But I couldn’t rush it: if this trip to see Reina’s friend went wrong, it could end in disaster.
First of all, I had to have to have at least three of my informants verify the woman — a former midwife turned curio seller — wasn’t one of Roy’s spies.
Without saying why I wanted her to do so, I’d tasked my friend, Lance Clubb’s cousin Karla Bettelmann, with going to the address Reina Bower had given me to meet the woman in person. But I hadn’t heard back from either her or my last informant yet.
I needed something to do. So since all the measurements were made and orders placed, I took my trip to see Josie.
I went in the plain carriage, dark brown without any Family markings upon it, with my footman Honor and driver Zeus dressed in street wear.
It would’ve made a wonderful disguise in the midst of night. But here in daylight, the stout contingent of outriders on black horses screamed “Spadros Family,” even though they rode dressed for the street as well.
So with my navy dress, I wore a black hat with matching veil. After trying to hide my too-large wedding ring under my gloves, I finally put it on a long chain under my bodice.
Neither Josie nor her brother liked Tony much. After the shock of me returning to Spadros Manor, wearing his ring — which cost more than their entire home — would only upset them.
But I didn’t give notice of my arrival. After the Colonel’s report, I wanted to see who was there when guests weren’t expected.
I only hoped Joe and Josie were at home.
The way round Market Center was busier than usual, as well as over the bridge to Hart quadrant. The guards at the Hart side of the bridge took an unusually long time to allow my carriage to pass, and people along our route peered at my horses and men with suspicion.
But the Kerr’s home wasn’t far, and we arrived without incident.
I crossed the white stone sidewalk to the well-worn wrought-iron gate. For an instant, the gate reminded me of the thick bars enclosing the Pot, and I wondered why a proud old man like Polansky Kerr would want to live with such a reminder.
A wall of brown stone which matched the house surrounded the property. Leaving my guards at the gate, I went down the grassy stone path and to the white wooden door.
The old woman that Joe and Josie had called Susan answered the door. “May I help you?”
I handed her my calling card. “I’m here to see Miss Josephine. Is she at home?”
The woman didn’t hesitate. “Yes, she’s taking callers today. Please, do come in.”
I wanted very much to question her, ask her surname, who the man was that they’d found with her and where he might be.
But the Colonel’s warnings not to speak of his visit stopped me: if she didn’t wonder at my questions, Mr. Polansky Kerr — Joe and Josie’s grandfather — surely would.
I handed the woman my coat and hat, then followed her along the wood-paneled front hall to their parlor. Just then, Josephine Kerr came tiptoeing down the stairs in a pale pink house-dress.
I watched her with amusement: I’d never seen her try to be quiet before. Upswept golden curls had come loose on her left, and fell untidily across her perfect pale cheeks.
She looked quite unlike I’d ever seen her.
She looked gorgeous.
When she reached the bottom, she glanced up and smiled, whispering, “So happy to see you! Let’s go into the parlor, shall we?”
Her parlor was as it had always been ... but the overall effect was different. The sofa was just a bit farther from the wall than it had been. The order of the photos on the mantel had changed. The coffee table didn’t stand by the hole in the carpet as it once did.
I chose an armchair by the end of their sofa.
Josie had put her curls back into their place. She sat on the sofa beside me, her face pleasant and softly aglow. She leaned her shoulder and both hands upon the armrest, placing her chin upon them like a small girl might. “I’m so glad you came to visit; I’ve missed you.”
I put my gloved hand upon her bare one. “I’ve missed you too!”
“Look!” She showed me her engagement ring: a large heart-shaped diamond, set in white gold, with rubies round it.
“This is lovely!”
She beamed. “I’m so pleased he’s finally allowed me to wear it. Under my gloves when I go out, of course.” She let out a contented sigh. “I think he’s recovering at last from the loss of his wife, the poor dear.” Josie glanced at my navy blue dress. “I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to come out of deep mourning, too.” She squeezed my hand. “You don’t know how much I’ve worried for you.”
A complex wave of emotion came over me; my eyes burned. I’d been forced to wear this dress: I had nothing else left that fit me. And I still grieved the array of people who’d died — some to keep me out of Spadros Manor — who now lay betrayed, unavenged.
I squeezed her hand, blinking back tears. “I still feel it, Josie, very much so. But it was time.”
I trusted Josie with my life. But I knew nothing of the woman who might be outside the door listening, nor of the man with her who might be listening as well. “I hope your grandfather’s well?”
Josie let out a soft breath. “Not at all. I just got him to sleep.”
Her brother Joe had said the man was dying. “Is there any way I might help? Our private surgeon is very good.”
She shook her head slowly, face downcast. “He’s old, Jacqui, with decades of brutal labor and terrible poverty behind him. I doubt there’s much that can be done, other than to ease his way.”
The way she’d described his life shocked me. “It’s not right,” I blurted out, “that the heir to the throne of Bridges has lived like this.”
“True,” said Josie, her eyes downcast. “But we must play the hand we’re given.”
We sat in silence, her hand in mine.
Josie said, “Would you like to see the sketches for my dress?”
“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Your wedding dress?” My melancholy vanished. “Why, of course!”
Josie went to the stack of notebooks upon the window-seat, selecting a large, flat one. She sat beside me, opening it.
A high neck, with puffed sleeves slendering to pointed, buttoned edges at the wrists. The waist narrowing to a point deep in front. Hips blossoming wide, with tiny buttons down the back to a heavily-ruffled, six-foot train. “This is lovely. Who’s your dressmaker?”
“Me,” Josie said, as if this were obvious. “We just have the money to pay for the materials. I think I’m a fair seamstress; I’ve made me and Joe’s clothing for years.” She leaned back with a satisfied smile. “I’ve always wanted to make my own wedding dress. Nothing in the ready-made shops is anywhere close to what I like.”
“Where is Joe, anyway?” Everything there reminded me of him. I could smell him in the room. Not that I wanted to see him; it would only cause trouble, particularly if the men outside saw him as well.
But I missed him. The thought of him still pulled me, just like those bottles in Peedro’s shop. If he was here ... I wanted to know.
Josie shrugged. “He’s out looking for work.” She let out a breath. “Mr. Hart’s not fond of Joe, and once I’m married and Grandpa turns in his cards, I don’t think Mr. Hart will want to support Joe anymore.”
This was disturbing. But something else nagged at me: why would a man not support his betrothed? “Your dress. Could you not ask Inventor Etienne to hire you someone? My dressmaker is excellent.”
Josie chuckled, but an edge lay beneath her smile. “Do you doubt my abilities so? Besides, Grandpa has forbidden it.” She placed her hand upon mine. “This marriage is burden enough. Then to ask the bridegroom for money that should come from the dower?” She snorted bitterly. “As if we have any of that lying around.”
“I wish there was something I might do.”
Josie shrugged. “I’ll need help with fitting, and hemming. And there will be yards of trimming to do.”
“Whatever you need.” Then I remembered Tony’s fears, and what I’d promised. “But we can’t do it here.”
“Why not?”
I sighed. “My husband and Charles Hart have had a falling-out. If you peek out of your window, you can see what I had to bring even to come here.”
Josie only nodded.
“I had to promise him I'd never go into Hart quadrant again.”
“Oh, Jacqui!” Josie seemed near tears. “To never see you again? This is terrible!” Her face turned angry. “Anthony Spadros.” She almost spat the words out. “Why is he always so afraid?” She tucked her feet underneath her, leaned over the armrest. “Tell me why you went back to that man. Can you possibly love him?”
I took a deep breath through my nose, let it out, mind racing. There was no way I could tell her the truth. “The matter’s complicated. But I do care for him. He needs me right now.”
All true, just not in the way she might see it.
I patted her hand. “But there is a way we might meet. I can hire a room in Spadros, or even upon Market Center if you prefer.”
Josie’s eyes widened in delighted surprise. “That would be wonderful! Oh, Jacqui, this is your best idea ever. When do you want to next meet?”
We had Tony’s event in a couple of weeks, and between that and the cases I still worked on, I had nary a moment’s peace. “This time next month.”
By then, I should be free of this child and preparing to return to my apartments. It would be the perfect reason to meet with Josie: one friend consoling another in time of grief. Tony might even let her come to Spadros Manor. “I’ll send you the details.”
Josie rose, grabbed my hand. “Come see what I have.”
She led me up the stairs. Faint snoring came from the far right. She took me left, down a brown paneled hallway, past where I’d been to see Joe when he lay abed after his injury. At the next door, she went in.
Her bedroom was done up in pale peach and white, with many a ruffle and embroidered pillow. I didn't normally like pale colors, but this fit her. “Your room is beautiful.”
Josie beamed, then went to a small wooden travel-chest. Inside lay mementoes of all kinds. She took up a box the size of her palm: inside it lay two locks of hair. One was tightly coiled black, the other straight and pale yellow, tied together with an ancient cord. “From my parents,” Josie said. “My father gave these to me when Grandpa took us from him, so we might remember them.” She closed the box with a sigh. “I recall nothing of my mother and little of him, but I keep these here always.”
She took up a stained, ragged, but clean kerchief with lace that used to be white. “My mother’s. My father said it was the nicest thing she owned. One of her customers gave it to her.” She smiled to herself. “I'll wear it tucked into my bag on my marriage day. Then she’ll be with me.”
I swallowed the grief back. Nothing of my mother had been to my wedding. At the time, I couldn’t even tell Tony that she lived.
Then Josie held up a necklace of dented and chipped blue beads of various sizes. “Treysa made this for me one Yuletide.” Josie sighed. “And now she’s gone.”
Murdered by Tony, along with our friends Ottilie and Poignee, for slandering him where the public might hear.
“They say it’s lucky to wear something blue at your wedding,” Josie said, “so I’ll wear this too.”
She had other things inside. A set of petticoats she’d made from fine fabric she found on deep clearance. A tea service of an old-fashioned design, yet in perfect condition. “I found that at the poorhouse shop,” she said, “For my first real home.” Her face fell. “But I don’t suppose I’ll ever use it at Hart Manor.”
I took her hand. “It’ll be your real home. You can use whatever you like in your rooms between the two of you.” I thought of what Mr. Hart had told me, that his son Etienne feared being passed over for others. “I don’t know Mr. Etienne well. But it may be he just needs to feel there’s something special when he’s with you. That you share something no one else has.”
Josie nodded, eyes intent. “I’ll remember that.”
“It’ll anchor him from any rash moves,” I said, suddenly amused. “We wouldn’t want that in an Heir.”
Josie took up a drawstring pouch beside the small chest. “Would you like to stroll the garden?”
I smiled at her. “I’d love to.”
We walked back down the hall, down the stairs, out to the narrow back porch and down a few steps to the garden.
Josie’s back garden was ringed with the same brown stone as her home. Her roses were beginning to bloom. I took out a cigarette and lit it. “Your flowers are lovely.”
But the bushes hadn’t been tended: some were overgrown, others had dead sticks in the midst of them. Weeds grew here and there.
Josie smiled at me. “I’m glad you like them.”
I pushed any suspicion from my mind. Josie was planning a wedding and caring for a sick old man, with as far as I could tell, only an old woman to help. Trimming rose bushes was likely the least of her worries.
I took a drag of my cigarette, blew smoke into the air. “How’s the wedding coming along?”
“Oh, good grief,” Josie said. “The invitation list is monstrous!”
It was over a year away. “They have the list already?”
She spoke as if explaining it to a child. “Jacqui, the marriage of the Inventor Heir is one of the most momentous occasions in Hart quadrant’s history.”
I didn’t recall my wedding being so big as all that: a small chapel out in the countryside.
Then something tickled the back of my mind ... something Inventor Call had said. “But ... how was he married at all? I thought Inventors could never marry.”
Josie snorted. “Who is going to tell Charles Hart that his precious Heir can’t be Inventor and marry?”
That explained quite a bit.
“Etienne wants to have it in this amphitheater almost as big as the Cathedral, with a full dinner in the park afterwards.” She sighed. “At least his Family is paying for the printing and post.” She glanced over at me. “How is Master Jonathan?”
Her question took me off guard. “Hmm?”
“The last you were here, you said he was ill, very much so.”
Since I hadn’t been to see him, I didn’t actually know. So I told her what Blitz had said. “Quite unwell.”
“I don’t mean to pry,” Josie said. “But what happened? The few times I’ve seen him, he’s always looked in good health.”
So I told her of his illness as a child, and how it damaged his heart. “When he was young, they told him he would die.”
Josie gasped, hands to her mouth. “To say that to a child!”
Grief touched my throat. “Yes.” I couldn’t imagine what that must have done to him.
We walked around through the flowers then back towards the house; a dented white tea-table and chairs now stood there. I hadn’t seen them when Tony and I visited, but that was some three years prior. They looked old, likely purchased at a poorhouse shop.
Josie said, “Would you care to sit?”
So we sat, and I smoked, while she took fine thread and a mass of what appeared to be lace from her pouch.
She began to work using some small instrument. “What is this you’re doing?”
“Tatting,” she said. “Miss Susan showed me how. It’s for my veil.”
I sat speechless. She played the piano better than I did. She took care of her grandfather’s affairs. She drew exceedingly well. She made her and Joe’s clothing. And now this? How did she know how to do all these things?
Josie glanced up at me and giggled. “Don’t look so surprised! There’s really little to do here. I don’t have balls to attend, or detective cases to manage. I have only the one servant, and she’s well-taught. Few will welcome one of the Kerrs into their homes, so I rarely need call on anyone.” She gave a small wistful smile, not looking at me. “At times, I envy you your life.”
I wished I could tell her she shouldn't, not at all. It'd only been with the greatest strife and toil that my life was even close to what suited me. But my experience as Lady of Spadros would do nothing to help, and would only make her fearful of the crushing regimented burden that faced her for the rest of her days.