It wasn’t until the small hours that Hal saw Frances into a hansom. Thoughts continued to race through her head, shifting from Hal to the family reunion at Lady Torrence’s house and back to Hal.
The night porter let her in, and Frances found herself looking forward to the sameness of her routine. Mallow, despite instructions to go to bed, was no doubt gently napping in a chair in their sitting room with her knitting in her lap, waiting for her mistress to come home. She’d help Frances get out of her dress, they’d have a quick argument about brushing out Frances’s hair, which Frances would lose, and then she’d read for a few minutes before going to sleep.
But the day had one more surprise for her.
“You have a visitor, my lady,” said the porter. Hearing voices in the foyer, a man was already stepping out of the lounge. It was her brother, Charles, in military uniform. The last thing Frances wanted that night was an argument with her brother, but there was no avoiding it.
“Charles. Everything is well? Are you off to war again?”
“No. A regimental dinner. Franny—”
“Was Mary with you?”
“No. It was a dinner for officers, not the annual regimental ball. Franny—”
“Because she needs to be careful in her condition.”
Charles grasped for words, which amused Frances. “Mary said she wasn’t telling anyone yet, not even her mother. How did you—?”
“Silly Charles. Did you really think you could keep a secret like that from me? I’d love a niece I could take to suffrage meetings, but I know you’d like a son, and I know Mary would like to give you a son, so I will pray for a nephew. I suppose you’ll name him James after Father, which would’ve delighted him.”
“Thank you,” he said. “We’ll discuss that later. Anyway, where have you been so late? I asked that maid of yours, and despite all my questions, all I got was her usual, ‘I’m sure I couldn’t say, my lord.’ She knows every little thing you’re up to.”
Frances thought of the evening just ended and suppressed a smirk. Not everything. To her brother, she said, “Charles, it’s very bad form to question a lady’s personal maid like that. Can you imagine father doing that to mother’s maid?” She watched him try to control his temper.
“Franny. Stop changing the subject. Mother didn’t get into fistfights with criminals in the homes of London solicitors. Yes, it was quite the topic of conversation this evening, whether the sister of the Marquess of Seaforth was looking for a position as a sergeant major.”
“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” she said. “I just ran into some brief difficulties when acting for a client.”
“A client?”
“Yes. I’ve recently become London’s first female consulting detective.” Charles lost all power of speech now. Frances rolled on. “You may have heard that I was attacked by a veteran of the Suffolk Rifles, all of whom perished in the Sudan, as I’m sure you know. You may have also heard that I was looking for an actress named Helen, who vanished thirty years ago. Maybe you even heard that I wrote and directed a play at the Emerald Theatre to uncover a terrible crime. Do take Mary to their production of Romeo and Juliet, and mention my name to the manager, Gilbert Rusk. Also, Mallow and I met the king there by the way, and he was angling for another invitation. And we’ll need to talk next week about you hosting a motion picture party. It sounds like great fun. Now it’s very late, and we both should be off to bed.”
But Charles wasn’t going to be pushed away so quickly.
“Franny, I didn’t understand half of what you said. Thank God. You’ve always made a case for living your own life, and I’ve accepted that as best I could. But when word of your exploits involving physical violence get back to me at my club and regiment, it is no longer just your life anymore.”
She smiled sweetly and spoke softly to contrast his rising voice. “Dear Charles, what did you hear? That a soldier attacked me? But no, he died decades ago. It was just an illusion. That I found an actress named Helen? She was also an illusion. An empty grave in Maidstone? Also an illusion. There was never any danger—illusion again and again.” She kissed him on the cheek three times. “For you, for Mary, and for your child. Know this, that the only reality is love. All else is illusion.”
And with that, she swept upstairs, leaving her brother yet again in silence.
Oh, what an exit. I really am the most marvelous theatrical director.