I handed it to Ivy. "How tragic," she said after she had read it. "To think, the poor woman was waiting to be executed, and this is the sort of correspondence from which she was to take consolation."
"I'm sure everything was read by her jailors. Hardly circumstances in which someone would be willing to divulge personal details. But you're right. It is sad." I touched the fading ink on the page. "I had hoped for something else, something that would reveal the significance of the queen's letters."
"Could he have more of Léonard's letters?"
"That, Ivy, is an excellent question. He must have been following me when I went off in search of the letters. How else would he know I was looking for them?"
"I wonder..." she began, but was interrupted by Robert.
"What are you two discussing? I thought Hargreaves was with you."
"No, darling, Emily and I were talking about another of her admirers," Ivy said, standing and giving her husband her arm.
"Hmmm. Dangerous topic these days, eh, Emily?" Robert was quite handsome when he smiled.
"It wouldn't be a dangerous topic if people would limit themselves to the discourse of facts."
"Until reality becomes as interesting as fiction, I'm afraid that's unlikely," he said.
"That reminds me," I began. "How are you enjoying the book I lent you, Ivy?"
"Oh, it's...well...I thought — "
"What book is this?" Robert asked.
"Mount Royal," I said. "Are you familiar with it?"
"It's not the sort of thing that Robert—"
"Not more trash by that Braddon woman, I hope," Robert said. "A dreadful waste of time."
"I prefer to think of it as an entertaining escape," I said. "Have you any concept of the amount of effort it takes to run a large household well? Ivy's overdue for some relaxation."
Robert looked at me, then at Ivy, then at his shoes, then back at me. "There are plenty of methods of relaxation that are not so utterly without merit." His smile softened the remark, but not enough.
"I didn't mean —" I said, but Ivy interrupted me.
"Oh, it's perfectly all right, both of you. Robert has arranged for me to assist the Duchess of Petherwick with her charity work, so I've no time at all for reading."
"What are you doing for her?"
"Sewing baby clothes for orphans."
"Sewing? And this is meant to be relaxing?" I looked at Robert.
"Ivy enjoys handwork." I could see there was no use arguing. With effort, I managed a smile. Robert pulled a heavy gold watch from his pocket. "It's getting late. You should go home, darling. I'm to meet Fortescue and some others at my club." Even Ivy's curls seemed to droop, and though Robert didn't look closely enough to notice, she could hardly keep her eyes from filling with tears. "I'll get the carriage for you."
"No, Robert," I said. "Let Ivy come home with me." I stopped myself almost at once, disgusted to find that I was talking about my friend as if she were not there. "Would you come with me, Ivy? It's so lonely at my house without Cécile."
"I wouldn't want to leave you alone, Emily, but Robert — "
I hoped he would protest. "Of course you shall go with Emily. I'll be dreadfully late — you may as well stay the night." He looked more pleased than he ought to with this arrangement. "I can't imagine you'll have finished analyzing the events of the evening before morning."
And I couldn't imagine that, if he knew what sort of events we would be analyzing, he would approve of his wife spending the night with me. But as I gave the matter more thought, I decided that Ivy and I would not sit up until all hours discussing my investigations. Instead, we would read out loud to each other favorite passages from Mary Elizabeth Braddon's books.
15
The day after the ball I called again at the White residence, and again the housekeeper rebuffed me. "I don't think the lady of the house needs to be bothered by the likes of you," the housekeeper said, glaring at me.
"Excuse me?"
"A lady in mourning should be left alone. This is a house of decent people. I won't have you harassing my mistress."
That a servant would speak to me in such a tone was astonishing, and I could hardly find my voice to reply. "That is a decision to be made by Mrs. White, not you. You give her this note. I shall come back in an hour and expect a reply." I had thought it likely that Mrs. White would refuse to see me and in preparation for this possibility had brought with me a letter explaining that I needed to discuss with her some information about David Francis at the earliest possible moment. After an hour had passed, I returned to the house. This time the housekeeper admitted me, though she made no effort to make me feel welcome.
I began to understand her behavior the moment I met Mrs. White. She was younger than I had expected but extremely frail, and looked on the verge of falling apart. She came into her drawing room, clinging to furniture as she walked, so slowly it was painful to watch. At last she lowered herself into a straight-backed wooden chair.
"Forgive me, Lady Ashton, for not admitting you when you came before," she said, her voice so soft that it was difficult to hear. "I've never been fond of society and find it worse than ever now that Mr. Francis — " She pressed a hand to her forehead.
"I am most sorry to disturb you during such a difficult time." I wished there was something I could say to make this conversation easier. "I have promised to assist in the investigation of Mr. Francis's death and am hoping that you might be able to help me."
"Are the police not capable of handling the matter themselves?"
"Yes, of course they are, but there is some concern that they made an arrest too quickly."
"Who is concerned?"
"Mrs. Francis."
"I see." She had not looked at me directly since she entered the room. "I have not met her, of course. I understand she was quite devoted to Mr. Francis."
I had no answer for this. Mrs. White sat in silence, but she was not at ease, tugging at her cuticles while she held her hands in her lap. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, but there was a tiredness in her eyes that made her look far older. I waited as long as I could bear to before speaking.
"I have offered to help Mrs. Francis, but please know that I am not here to sit in judgment of you. I just thought that, given your...closeness...to Mr. Francis, you might have an idea of who would have wanted to harm him."
"Mr. Francis was a complicated man."
"Did he have enemies?"
"I wouldn't know, Lady Ashton. As you may have guessed, the part of his life that he shared with me was very limited."
"Did you see him often?"
"He came to me every Sunday. He felt it was important that he see the boy at regular intervals."
"His son?"
"Yes. He visited more often before Edward was born. Things change after a child comes."
"But surely he wanted to see Edward?"
"He wanted a child, and until he was certain I had provided one, it was necessary for him to spend a great deal of time with me."
"And you did not object to this?"
"Why should I?" She did not appear to have the energy to object to anything.
"Has he provided for the two of you?"
"As you can see, we are comfortably settled."
I bit my lip. "Forgive me — I do not mean to insult you or to criticize the choices you have made. But why would you agree to such an arrangement?"
"I was brought up well, but my father lost his fortune in a bad business deal. When he died, some years after my mother, he had nothing left. I had no skills and therefore no way to earn an income. My only brother is in the navy, and I've no other relatives. I had nowhere to go."