Esther Hampton Caldwell was the pattern from which Eva had been drawn. Eva was the mirror image of her mother every bit as much as Charlotte was of Katherine. Lovely, polished, well-spoken, and intelligent, Charlotte had forgotten how calming Esther was. After a few moments in her company, she began to relax.
Eva had arrived the night before with Constable Denton, Sammy, and Henry, and now the two children and Dirk were playing with the ponies on the small farm. As the women settled into the parlor with a fresh pot of tea and sandwiches, Charlotte nodded to the window where the children were visible in the distance.
“Sammy is still healing well, Eva?” she asked her cousin.
“He is. Also seems to be returning to his old self. He’s been bright since your visit.”
Dirk lifted Henry into the air and settled him carefully on the small saddle, holding him in place as Sammy led the pony slowly around the paddock.
“Henry’s growing so big, Eva,” Charlotte said. “Even in the short time since I’ve been home, I believe he’s added at least another inch.”
“He changes daily,” Eva agreed. She patted the seat next to her and then poured a cup of tea. “Drink this, Charlotte. You look pale.”
Charlotte obediently sat next to Eva and took the saucer and cup. “Yes, Mrs. Winston, right away.”
“What ails you?” Eva asked as Esther and Sally made themselves comfortable near the younger women.
Charlotte sighed. “Where to begin? You already know some of it, Eva.” As she recounted the events that had occurred since her return to London, she felt overwhelmed by how quickly her life had been overturned.
When she finished, Sally was the first to speak. “Esther, I was wondering what you remember about the time we spent with the Jameses. You were closer in age to Katherine, whereas I was quite small.”
Esther nodded and set down her tea. She folded her hands in her lap and looked at Charlotte, nodding absently. “I suppose what I remember most was how devoted they were to your mother.” She smiled. “But then, weren’t we all? Kat was—” Esther paused, searching for the words. “She was larger than life. Everything was twice as exciting if she was there. She was inventive and clever, and she made certain to include everyone—even me and Sally, the pesky younger sisters.”
Sally chuckled. “I was pesky, no question. You were fun also, Esther. I think if Kat had a confidante, it was you.”
“I suppose so, although she was also full of secrets.” Esther smiled gently at Charlotte. “The diary you found is something she must have hidden from everyone. And you said there are letters from ‘James’ while they were away at school?”
Charlotte nodded. “Not a surname anywhere. Some of them were folded and sealed with my mother’s address written on them. Other times, they must have come in envelopes, but there weren’t any of those to be found. I believe my biggest question now is this: which James did she favor the most?”
“I’m afraid that is a hard one to answer. There were times when I believe she felt an extra measure of fondness for each of them. One at a time, of course. Their families were well connected, and expectations for their futures were set from the cradle. As for which of them she would have been in love with just before she married your father, I couldn’t say.” She spread her hands. “It might have been any of them.”
Charlotte nodded, disappointed. “If I could only narrow down that one thing, I believe it would lead to more answers. My supposition, after chatting about it with John, is that either James or his wife wanted my mother out of the way, so they hit her on the head and shoved her overboard. So which James? Which wife? Or fiancée? James and Phillipa Carter had yet to be married.”
She paused as the others considered what she’d said and reluctantly added, “Or it could have been my father. I must be objective, but it is difficult.”
“Oh, no,” Esther said. “I find that highly unlikely. Your father was a gentle person, and he adored your mother.”
“What was your impression of each of the Jameses?” Eva asked Esther.
Esther picked up her teacup and tilted her head in thought. “Worthingstone was a leader. Handsome, full of charisma, girls in Town always sought his favor. Finebough was introspective, very much a thinker. Paddleton was almost like a ‘younger brother’ sort of friend. He was quiet, tagged along in the beginning because our parents were all friends, but he eventually found his own place. The Jameses each had distinctly different personalities, that is for certain.”
“And the women came later, of course,” Sally said. “Kat knew them from school, and again, our parents knew their parents, so the circle enlarged.”
Charlotte frowned. “Which James would have been in love with her?”
Eva interjected, “Or rather, which woman disliked Aunt Katherine the most?”
Esther pursed her lips and shook her head, thinking. “Hard to say. Many women envied Kat, but few outright disliked her.” Her eyes narrowed. “We might assume from Anastacia’s letter to your mother that she was protecting her own husband. However, she does state that ‘the ladies’ had all decided your mother should stay away.” She took a breath. “I will say that Anastacia Worthingstone and Gwendolyn Finebough were often unkind girls at school. They’re sisters, and thick as thieves.” She glanced at Eva. “My own sweet daughter knew her share of that kind.”
Eva nodded and looked at Charlotte. “I did notice more bite in those two the other night at supper, whereas Mrs. Carter said hardly two words until I asked about her charity, and Mrs. Paddleton even fewer.” She shrugged and added, “Quiet doesn’t always mean a lack of vitriol, however.”
“If I’m not mistaken,” Sally mused, “Anastacia and Gwendolyn had feathers in their caps for their future husbands from their first Seasons. Both sisters and their parents were instrumental in helping the men get elected.”
Charlotte chewed on her lip. She tried to imagine someone accosting a person the way she suspected her mother had been. She examined her thoughts critically, objectively. “If my mother was struck from behind and then shoved over the side of the boat, I imagine it would have taken a fair amount of strength.”
Eva nodded thoughtfully. “Or two people might manage it. One to distract, the other to strike the blow, then both to maneuver the victim over the railing.”
“That could work,” Charlotte said. “I fear the weapon used may resemble a small tool—something like a pickax, but I cannot be certain from the autopsy photos alone.”
“Would someone have access to a pickax on a river ferry?” Eva frowned.
Esther looked at Sally. “I’m fairly alarmed. Do they always speak like this?”
Sally nodded. “They’ve both seen plenty of corpses, I’m afraid, and spending so much time in the company of detectives has a way of hardening the most delicate of women.” She smiled at Charlotte and Eva, who chuckled.
“I don’t know I’ve ever been considered ‘delicate,’” Charlotte said. “And Eva is beautiful, but I’ve seen her hefting photography equipment like a sailor.”
“That leaves Amelie.” Esther laughed.
Eva’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “You mean the girl who stabbed a man in the neck with a hatpin?”
Charlotte’s laughter grew, and as the conversation continued, her spirits began to rise. By the time supper came around, she was feeling more like herself.
Esther and Sally left first to prepare for the meal, but before Charlotte could leave, Eva held up her hand. “One moment, if you please. Sammy and Henry will be barging in here any moment, so you must be brief.”
Charlotte frowned. “About what?”
Eva looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “You and John! Nathan was useless with the details, and Amelie and I are at our wits’ end! One moment you were dancing like two clinging vines and the next you disappeared.”
Charlotte hadn’t been expecting the question and heat rose in her face. “We . . . nothing. We just talked and then went home.” She grimaced. “And found my room in shambles.”
“Your coat was left in the cloakroom at my mother-in-law’s house. What did you wear outside?” Eva’s attention was riveted to Charlotte’s face.
“His coat,” Charlotte mumbled.
“His coat! And which door did you use to leave?”
Charlotte paused before admitting, “The servant’s entrance.”
“Ah!” Eva sat back against the couch, her eyes huge. “The two of you, grown, professional adults, sneaking about like bandits!”
“You know how people will talk,” Charlotte protested, “and once we’d gone into the other room, we couldn’t very well just waltz back in.”
“Why not?”
“My hair was mussed.”
Eva’s mouth dropped open and a smile formed. “He kissed you!”
“What did you think we were doing in there?” Charlotte hissed. “Of course he did!” She also sank back against the couch. “We were quite compromised.”
“So,” Eva said, eyes bright, “when will you marry?”
“Marry?” Charlotte felt a measure of alarm. “One kiss, Eva, that was all it was. Anything beyond a kiss near a ballroom is impractical. He is tied to his career, and I cannot have one if I marry.”
“The heart frequently makes decisions for the brain,” Eva muttered, shooting a dark look at Charlotte. “Your practicality might just find itself out the window.”
“Then I shall climb out the window and retrieve it. Come now, Eva, examine it through my eyes.”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course I love him!” She paused, frowned, and shook her head. “I love him dearly, as you do, as Amelie does, as Michael and Nathan do. We all love each other as does one big happy family of friends.”
“Some of us love certain members of our family of friends a bit differently than others,” Eva told her drily.
“I cannot, I do not, have time or energy, I simply—” She shook her head again. “Eva, I do not trust love as far as I can throw it, and as I’m learning, love is ridiculously heavy and cumbersome. My own mother may have been fickle, at best, and I’m very much like her. I have her temperament; I do things unconventionally. I pursued medicine, for heaven’s sake.” She shook her head. “I will not repeat her history.”
“Of course you will not repeat her history.” Eva reached for Charlotte’s hand and clasped her fingers. “You are not her, Charlotte.”
Charlotte sighed. “My mother fell in love with a man whose familial expectations for his marriage were clearly set in stone. I will not do the same.”
“John’s life has already deviated from the course his parents would have set for him.”
“My career demands I remain single. John’s career depends on maintaining a relationship with his father.” Charlotte lifted the corner of her mouth in an almost-smile. “I am one of ‘those Hamptons,’ Eva. Perhaps more so than any of us. I will not put him in a place where he must choose.”