On Wednesday afternoon, Cynthia entered the kitchen in one of her new, trimmer frocks, a spring in her step. She smiled widely at me as she leaned her hands on the kitchen table, right in the middle of a dusting of flour.
“I know this was your doing, Mrs. H.”
I looked up from crushing parsley and dill in my mortar, the herbs releasing their pungent fragrance. “What was?”
Cynthia stood up. She thumped her hand to her chest, leaving a smear of flour on the dark blue fabric. “I would like you to greet Mr. Elgin Thanos’s new assistant for his mathematics lectures.” She spread her arms, her eyes sparkling.
“Excellent.” I laid down the pestle, forcing myself to remain on my side of the table. It would never do for me to rush around and embrace her. “I am pleased he talked Sir Arthur into it.”
“He jolly well did. Sir Arthur’s brush with death has made him an agreeable and affable man. He thought it a grand idea to have me help Thanos keep his equations straight. Truth to tell, I imagine he saw what a muddle Thanos started to get himself into at the lecture last week and leapt at the solution.” Cynthia leaned toward me again. “I thank you, Mrs. Holloway. Truly.”
“I only wished to help,” I said, trying to sound innocent.
Cynthia straightened up once more, sending me a sly look. “You forget that I grew up in the house of a confidence trickster. You are up to something.” A grin split her face. “But I don’t mind. I am happy to be useful, and to help out dear Thanos. I am glad to call you friend.”
She swallowed, and my eyes grew moist.
Before either of us could dissolve into sentimentality, she spun away and ran off, her loose skirts swinging.
“Well, that is that,” I murmured, and returned to crushing herbs for my sauce.
On Thursday morning, Mrs. Bywater came to the kitchen to suggest I forgo my day out, as Lady Clifford had more guests coming for supper and card playing. Tess looked hurt, as Mrs. Bywater clearly did not believe her up to the challenge of preparing a large meal by herself.
But my Thursdays were sacrosanct. I told Mrs. Bywater without flinching that to give up Thursday would mean the end of my employment. Not even the offer of a whole day Monday instead could move me. I saw Grace two days a week—though Mrs. Bywater did not know of the reason for my inflexibility—and that was the end of it.
I stoutly declared that Tess would do fine until my return this evening, and to my surprise, both Mr. Davis and Mrs. Redfern agreed with me. Tess wilted in gratitude, and then almost spoiled it by puffing herself up after Mrs. Bywater departed and proclaiming that she commanded the kitchen now. I left her to it, knowing Mr. Davis and Mrs. Redfern would not let her head swell too much.
I donned my hat and light spring coat and made my way via omnibuses and by foot to Cheapside, and so to the Millburns and Grace.
“I have a treat for you today,” I told Grace after I greeted her and the family. “We are going back to the Crystal Palace, to see more of its wonders.” It had been a place of tragedy, but I did not want to shun it. With an excited Grace, who was eager to go, I could weave happier memories around it.
We departed at once and boarded a train to take us south. We rode third-class this time, and I felt much more at home, the conductor brusque but in a cheerful way. We shared our compartment with a good-natured woman and her grown daughter, a young man off to work on the coast, and an older man heading to the Crystal Palace to stroll the park.
I did my best not to think of failing wheels and carriages twisting from the track as we traveled, and we alighted at the Crystal Palace station without a mishap.
A man in a work-worn brown coat and cap, with dark hair and warm blue eyes, met us on the platform. My heart lightened as Daniel greeted Grace and me, took my arm, and led us onward.
* * *
* * *
We strolled the vast park for a time, as the weather was fine, before entering the Crystal Palace itself. Sun in a blue sky slanted through the glass building, warming it through.
“May we look again at the Egyptian Court?” Grace asked after luncheon as we moved down the nave past fountains and vast statues of kings and prominent gentlemen. “I did not see enough of it last time. I want to go to Egypt. I’ve been reading about it in Mrs. Millburn’s history books.”
“Perhaps one day you will,” Daniel said with enthusiasm. “You could be an archaeologist.”
I had only a vague idea about how one went about becoming an archaeologist, but Grace looked pleased, so I did not blight her interest with practical thinking.
Daniel and I led Grace to the Egyptian exhibit and then, when we’d exhausted that, the nearby Greek one. The medieval courts were worth a look as well, so elegant and mysteriously ancient.
While Grace admired suits of armor, Daniel and I reposed on a bench to keep watch over her. He and I sat very close but didn’t touch each other.
“Daventry and his wife are making a journey to Rome,” Daniel told me in a low voice. We’d not discussed the duke or the poisoning during luncheon, as we’d been surrounded by other diners, and I’d preferred to keep the conversation cheerful in front of Grace. “Likely a permanent one.”
I was not surprised. I’d known in my bones that the duke and duchess would never be imprisoned. Arresting a distinguished duke would raise too many questions, but a discreet exit from the country could be attributed to anything, including ill health.
“Will they be watched?” I did not believe Mr. Monaghan would let them go so easily.
“They’ll be guests of a man Monaghan trusts,” Daniel rumbled.
“Which means they’ll be watched very closely.”
Daniel gave me a nod. “As you say.”
I studied the carved stone of the false castle courtyard surrounding us. “Who is he, this Mr. Monaghan?”
Daniel’s lips twitched. “No one I can discuss in a public place.”
We’d spoken in quiet voices, but yes, anyone could be listening. The statuary and greenery afforded hiding places for eavesdroppers. I’d never thought about such things before I’d met Daniel.
“Caleb has kept Tess informed about the poison case,” I said. “Caleb says the barrister might put it to the judge that her mind is unhinged.”
“It very nearly is,” Daniel said. “I saw her initial interview with Inspector McGregor. Her grief drove her to it, she said. She knew she might harm others in the house, but it didn’t matter to her, as long as Lady Covington sickened and eventually died. She’s confessed all and does not want the bother of a trial, says Inspector McGregor, but her solicitor is being very careful.”
“I feel sorry for her, but at the same time—she had to be stopped.”