Charlotte leaned against the comfortable sofa cushions in Eva’s parlor and laughed at Amelie’s retelling of her four-year-old daughter’s latest antics. “By the time I reached them,” she said, “Sophia had cut a lock of hair this long from Cassandra’s head!”
Eva laughed. “I suppose we should consider the bright side—that Cassie didn’t lose an eye to sharp shears.”
A week had passed since Charlotte’s attack, and she still felt off-kilter. She’d returned to work, but she could hardly keep the nature of her “accident” a secret; her bruised face was still a rainbow of garish colors. She’d given her colleagues the briefest of explanations for the reason she’d acquired a large Scottish shadow, but she told the entirety of the situation to the matron and Mr. Corbin. They supported the situation, but she detected uncertainty in their gazes as they passed in hallways.
True to his word, Dirk did not demand anything of her other than communication about her schedule and a promise to not “lose” him intentionally. She admitted to herself after the first day back at work that his presence was a relief, especially when she was anywhere outside.
Charlotte had yearned for an evening with her cousins since her return, and the thought of her father’s enemies—her enemies—keeping her from it hadn’t sat well. John had agreed to the “ladies’ night,” but only if he was allowed to attend. He promised to stay with Nathan and Michael in the billiard room, and Charlotte finally relented, even though Eva’s and Nathan’s home was fully staffed and buzzed with activity day and night.
John had also been true to his word; she’d not seen him since their arrival, although she occasionally heard creaking just outside the parlor door. If she could only have hidden her face, with its bruises and healing scratches, the evening of fun with her cousins might have been like any other they’d had through the years. She’d informed them and Sally shortly after the incident had happened, but she knew her face was a constant reminder of it, and she resented the assailant all the more for encroaching on her sacred space.
She was determined not to spare another thought for her attacker or the revelations she’d learned from John or about her mother’s collection of Jameses. It was as though a storm hovered on the horizon—she knew it would eventually arrive. But not tonight.
She turned to Eva. “How is Sammy? Away at school?” Charlotte asked, referring to her cousin’s adopted son, now a young teen.
Eva’s smile faltered. “Yes, but we’re bringing him home. His last few letters have hinted at what we assumed was teasing, but the headmaster contacted Nathan about the suspension of three older boys who have been harassing some of the younger ones.” She winced. “The boy survives the first ten years of his life on the streets of London only to find himself preyed upon in a civilized setting.”
“Hah,” Charlotte said and rolled her eyes. “There is nothing civilized about a gathering of boys of just about any age, but especially the teenaged set. Will you hire a tutor for him?”
Eva nodded. “I had reservations about sending him away last year, but he seemed to do well. This year means a different school with older boys, and I was doubly concerned.”
“Sweet boy,” she said with a concerned frown. It was Amelie who had first met Sammy and brought him into their fold. “I’d like to send some of the Yard’s finest after the older bullies.” She paused. “I do know a couple who would perform favors for a price.”
Charlotte laughed, despite her anger on Sammy’s behalf. “Imagine the headlines: Detective Inspector’s Wife Charged with Assault-for-Hire.”
Amelie scowled as Charlotte and Eva continued laughing. “I wouldn’t be caught,” she said. Her statement only increased the mirth in the room. “I know how to think like a criminal, now,” she said, lifting her glass in salute. “You laugh, but won’t you be surprised when Sammy is avenged and nobody is the wiser.”
Charlotte nudged Amelie’s foot. “Don’t worry, dearest. Eva and I would never breathe a word of anything said in this room tonight.”
Eva nodded. “It’s true. The crown prosecutor could put me on the stand, and because I have such a demure, trustworthy face, they’d believe anything I say.”
Charlotte laughed but had to acknowledge it was probably true. Eva was stunningly beautiful, and although she possessed a core of steel, her demeanor was a picture of polish and tranquility.
Eva cleared her throat. “And how are your housemates getting along?”
Charlotte felt herself flush and then was irritated because she had no reason for it. “They’re fine, everyone’s fine. Keeping me safe, protecting life and limb.”
Eva nodded innocently. “I just wondered. Close proximity does breed such cozy familiarity. Just remember the three of us living there! We loved each other before but grew ever so much fonder after living together.”
Charlotte scoffed. “Which one should I grow closer to? The big, silent Scot or my dear friend?”
“John Ellis needs a distraction,” Amelie interrupted flatly, “or three. He works too hard, too much, and far too late into the night. He delegates, but not nearly enough. There are matters he could hand over to the newer detectives, but he mutters some nonsense about getting something done right by doing it oneself.” She shook her head. “He may as well move into the office, considering how little time he spends at home. When he goes to social events, he ends up with a blinding headache for two days afterward. I feel like a pesky mother hen sometimes, but he doesn’t take care of himself. If I didn’t send Michael out the door with two lunches, I doubt John would take time to eat. Perhaps you can provide some balance, Charlotte, what with the new living situation.”
“Temporary,” Charlotte said absently and frowned, thinking of John working himself into an early grave.
“He needs a wife,” Eva said. “A reason to go home at the end of the day.”
“I suspect the sort of wife his family would choose for him might not be the kind to garner that result, which is why he’s remained single.” Amelie raised her hands as if to forestall any argument. “But that is only my opinion.”
“You should fall in love with him, Charlotte,” Eva said with a chuckle.
“What? Why?” Charlotte mentally kicked herself when she heard the defensiveness in her tone.
“I was only making a joke,” Eva said. “We’ve teased the two of you often enough in the past, but perhaps it was unwelcome.”
“No,” Charlotte said, “I did not mean to snap, Eva. I . . .” She frowned. “My head is all a muddle since returning home. I feel as though the rug has been pulled from under me. Everything has gone sideways since I returned to London. Sitting close to John in the Fulbrights’ library must have set the stage for mayhem.”
The room grew instantly still. Amelie sat up straight, and Eva set her glass on the coffee table. “Sorry, what did you say?” Amelie asked.
Too late, Charlotte realized her blunder. “It was nothing—I was concerned for his health. We went into the library where it was dark and cool, and I gave him a headache powder.”
“Sat close?” Eva echoed. “How close?”
Charlotte waved a hand and shook her head. “Not that close, and not for long. It was nothing, and as I said, my brain is all twisted in knots.”
Her cousins looked at each other, and Charlotte wanted to slap her own forehead and drag her hand down her face. There was no reason at all for anyone to know she’d been feeling . . . things . . . for their friend, and she’d spoken without thinking.
“Of course!” Amelie said. “That’s why he always watches until you’re out of sight. He never does that with anyone else.” She looked at Charlotte. “Oh, dear. This could either be very lovely or very catastrophic for our friendship circle.”
“There is nothing to even think about,” Charlotte said firmly. “He watches me until I’m ‘out of sight’ because he’s taken my safety on as his responsibility. There is no reason to worry that our ‘friendship circle’ will change at all.”
Silence.
“Of course he’s watched me walk lately—I’ve been out of the country for four years, and we’re very good friends! I watch him constantly!” She closed her mouth and wished for a very large hole to open up in the floor.
Eva looked at her in pity, and Charlotte wanted none of it. “Girls. I beg you, do not mention this further. I am trying to find my place here, to make it home again, and I do not need this sort of nonsense running amok in my head.”
Both women nodded, and Eva belatedly said, “Absolutely. Not another word about it.”
A toddler’s cry could be heard descending the stairs, and Eva and Amelie looked at each other.
“Sounds like yours,” Amelie said.
Eva nodded. “Little Henry has yet to sleep through the night in his new bed. I’d let Nathan handle it, but he’ll fuss for me.” She rose and her footsteps echoed out into the hall. “Young man,” Eva said, her tone far from stern, “what are you doing away from your bed?” Her voice trailed off as she climbed the stairs.
Amelie gave Charlotte an arch look. “Good timing, there, Miss Charlotte. You must thank Henry in the morning.”
“Ha. You’re still here to torment me. Perfect timing would be if Sophia appeared in that doorway with a pair of shears.”
Amelie grimaced, and then said, “Actually, I do believe I’ll check on her. Can’t trust that child for even a minute.”
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief once she was alone. Her only problem now was that she was imagining John, lingering at doorways, his eyes on her back as she left him. Heat rose in her cheeks that had nothing to do with her proximity to the fire. Unfortunately, it was a worthless endeavor to even imagine a future with him, with anyone. She’d chosen her path, and it was her career. She wasn’t allowed to be married and work as a doctor or nurse.
Amelie was right. If she didn’t keep her feelings in check, she could be headed for catastrophe.