I reached across the corner of the table and laid my hand on her plump one.
“It isn’t right, no. I intend to find out what happened, Mrs. Gamble, and bring whoever did this to justice.”
It was a bold statement, and an overly dramatic one, but it made Mrs. Gamble wipe her eyes and give me a nod. “I’ll help as best I can, Mrs. Holloway. The fact that someone tainted my food ain’t to be borne.”
* * *
* * *
I’d hoped to ascend to the main house to speak to Lady Covington, but the housemaid who came down to refresh her ladyship’s tea said she wasn’t receiving anyone, including me.
Because I’d failed her? Or because the lady simply couldn’t bear to see any person who would wish to speak about Erica’s death?
I would leave her be for now. I told Mrs. Gamble to sit and rest while I poured hot water into the teapot the maid carried, using the kettle Mrs. Gamble had heated for us. Lady Covington asked for nothing to eat, the maid reported, but I had a sniff and small taste of the lumps of sugar in their bowl on the tray. They tasted of only sugar, so I waved the maid off.
“Thank you for the chat, Mrs. Holloway,” Mrs. Gamble said as I resumed my coat to leave. “It did me good.”
“It did me good too, Mrs. Gamble. Thank you for the tea.”
“Anytime, love.”
I left her puttering about her kitchen and made my way up the outside stairs to the garden.
The sun breaking through the clouds warmed me. I loosened the top button of my coat as I looked around the green paradise.
One would never know this garden was here if one did not walk in through the gate. A high wall separated it from the street, and the gate had close-set gratings that blocked the view from without.
The garden wound through land between Lady Covington’s home and the house behind it on Upper Brook Street. I walked along, admiring the low hedges and rows of herbs and flowers, impressed by how the meandering path made the garden appear larger than it was. The walkway ended at another gate, which led to the mews between Upper Brook Street and Upper Grosvenor Street.
“Morning.”
I jumped and spun to find the gardener behind me. He smiled, teeth showing behind his dark beard.
“Didn’t mean to give you a fright, Mrs. Holloway. Did you come for more herbs?”
“Not at all,” I said coolly. “I wanted to give her ladyship and family my condolences.”
“Aye, a bad business.” Symes took another step to me. “Poor Mrs. Hume. No one really liked the poor woman, which is even sadder.”
I had to agree. “Have you heard of anyone named Henry, Mr. Symes?”
Symes took off his hat, rumpled his thick hair, and clapped the hat on again. “Can’t say that I have. Who is he?”
“This is what I do not know. I believe Mrs. Hume left the house now and again, dismissing her maid before she returned. Do you have any idea where she went?”
Now Symes’s gaze turned suspicious. “Why do you want to know that?”
Cynthia had described these absences, which were strange. They might have nothing to do with the poisoning—or everything to do with it.
“It might not matter at all. But then again . . . who knows?” I lifted my palms.
“It’s police business now,” Symes said. “Not ours. Lady Covington is not happy about that. She won’t have police in the house.”
“Not even to discover who killed Mrs. Hume?”
“That’s why her ladyship sent for you in the first place.” Symes was even closer now, not in a threatening way, but one a little too familiar for my liking. “I know all about that—not much goes on in this house the staff don’t know. Her ladyship thought you could help, but you couldn’t. Not your fault,” he added quickly. “What do the likes of you and me know about these things?”
His tone exuded sympathy. Our betters asked too much of us, it said. He and I should draw together over this tragedy I’d been expected to prevent.
I took a step back. “What sorts of plants do you grow here, Mr. Symes?”
Symes grinned, not offended, and waved a hand over the garden with a glow of pride. “All sorts. We have carrots coming up, lettuces, and I’ve planted the tomatoes and peppers in the hothouse.” He motioned me to follow him, and against my better judgment, I did.
The hothouse sat on the south side of the property, against the wall that separated it from the mews. It was a long, low building open at either end with many glass windows to trap the sun’s warmth.
I stepped inside after Symes, close air surrounding me. In any other circumstance, I would be delighted. Large pots of tomato plants lined a bench, and below those, the large green leaves of peppers showed. None of the plants had any flowers or fruit at the moment, but that would come later, in July and August. If the plants thrived, the household would have all the tomatoes and sweet peppers they wanted.
Several flats held seedlings, each carefully labeled as beans, cucumber, courgettes, and spring onions. All specimens looked healthy. From this bountiful hothouse and the lush grounds, I concluded that Symes was an excellent gardener.
“Anything you want from here, you just say, Mrs. Holloway. As soon as I harvest, I’ll set things aside for you.”
“You ought to ask Lady Covington first,” I admonished. “These are her vegetables and herbs, after all.”
Symes shrugged. “She said I should give you what you like. She’s taken with you, is her ladyship.”
“She was taken with me, you mean. She might not be now.”
“Aye.” Symes nodded. “They expect too much.” He gave me a hopeful look. “Maybe I do as well?”
I straightened. “Mr. Symes, you are a kind man and a talented gardener. But I am very busy.”
Symes’s face fell. I did not like to disappoint him, but I truly had much to do, not to mention a daughter to look after and a man I was falling in love with. I did not need the complication of a well-meaning gardener who wanted to walk out with me.
“Ah well. Don’t think too harshly of me, Mrs. Holloway. You are a fine-looking woman.”
“I appreciate the compliment,” I said politely. “I will take you up on the offer of the herbs and vegetables. They are excellent specimens.”
“Thank you.” Symes accepted my praise as his due. “I do my best.”
“Well, good day, Mr. Symes. If you happen to discover who the person called Henry is, will you please tell me?”
“As you like.” Symes clearly wondered why I’d fixed on this Henry, but he nodded.