A Dreadful Splendor (91)

Flora’s wet face pressed into my shoulder. “Oh, Maisie,” she bellowed. “I’m so sorry.”

“You gave Maisie one of Auntie Lil’s concoctions?”

“And she died the next day!” Flora pulled back. Her face was streaked with tears. “I only wanted to make her better, honestly. But William told me he overheard the doctor say it was unexplained how her heart stopped. But I know it was me! I killed Maisie!”

My heart went out to her. An accident, an act with consequences you could never erase—this I understood. But then I remembered what Barnaby had told me. “The doctor said she had a weak heart already, and was susceptible to the illness. He would know; he was with her all night.”

She sniffed. “But William told me what he heard.” A myriad of expressions swept across her face. I watched her struggle to puzzle the pieces together.

A little nudge was in order. I went to the table and poured a cup of tea, then offered it to her. “Here, a spot of this will help.”

Flora took the cup. It rattled on the saucer. She stared at it for an eternity before dissolving into tears again. “Oh, miss! I’m so sorry. It was all William’s idea. He wanted me to put one of Auntie Lil’s sleeping potions in your tea. He wanted you to be so drowsy for the séance everyone would think you were drunk. He wanted the lord to kick you out. He hates you, miss. And I didn’t want to do it—I likes you, I really do. But he said he’d tell the lord about how I hurt Maisie. And if I hurt Maisie, I might have had somethin’ to do with Lady Audra’s death. I can’t go to jail! I can’t have Auntie Lil thinkin’ I’m so terrible.”

At last. I breathed a sigh. “He’s trying to sabotage the séance on purpose, Flora. And there’s only one reason.”

Flora lowered her head, accepting this truth. “Do you still needs me for the séance?” she whispered. “I don’t want to see him.”

“No,” I assured her. “Don’t fret. After tonight you won’t have to contend with William anymore. I’ll see to that.”

Her devastation was heartbreaking. For so long she had been burdened with this grief. I hoped I could offer her one morsel of cheer. “Maisie also said you have a genuine beau in your midst. You just have to open your eyes to see him.”

She wiped at her nose with her sleeve. “Oh, Jenny. I’m a right mess. Let’s not speak of this any longer. And my heavens, look outside! The sun’s goin’ down. We’ve got to get you ready.”

Flora was true to her word. In no time I was fitted into the crimson dress overlaid with black lace. My hair was carefully pinned back, a few curls left to skim my cheeks. When I looked in the mirror, I hardly recognized myself. For the first time, I looked entirely like the sort of creature who belonged among the finery of Somerset Park.

“Too bad you ain’t got no necklace, Jenny,” Flora said, touching my collar. “The neckline is elegant for sure, but plain.”

I reached for the velvet box on the vanity.





Chapter Fifty-Three




With every candle lit, Somerset Park was luminous. Garlands of evergreen boughs studded with blooms from the greenhouse decorated the main foyer. I stood at the railing overlooking the main hall and watched the couples twirl below. Long tables of refreshments lined the back wall: punch in sparkling crystal glasses, silver bowls of nuts, tiers of brightly colored tarts. The celebration had been going on for some time. I had grown weary watching the revelers, and had no intentions of joining them. This was not my world.

As it turned out, Mr. Pemberton was an excellent dancer and was never long without a partner. Even so, as he effortlessly stepped in time with each new song, his eyes searched the balcony and found mine. It would have been easy to feel jealous of the various women whom he held in his arms, but I could no longer afford to indulge such romantic desires. This would be our last evening together. I made myself recall his reply when I told him I couldn’t dance.

Then you should hope no one asks you.

It would have been much easier to leave Somerset Park if Mr. Pemberton had remained proud and cruel.

I hadn’t spoken to him since our time in the library that afternoon, but he sent me a note; a horse would wait for me at the stables with a satchel of money, to make use of if I so chose. The fact he thought I wouldn’t fulfill my promise of making William confess to Audra’s murder left me with a faint sense of foreboding.

I spied William a few times in the crowd. He was sullen and distracted, keeping mostly to himself in the corners. I could practically read his mind, knowing that everything he saw was rightfully his. Each time Harry swept past him, he took a full glass from the tray.

I was glad. The more inebriated he was, the more careless he would be later.

Mr. Lockhart occupied one of the settees pushed off to the side. He nodded appreciatively at the dancers while his cane tapped in time with the music. A heavy layer of guilt settled inside my chest. He had plucked me from inevitable doom and asked only that I give Mr. Pemberton peace. A peaceful séance was the opposite of what I would be delivering. I would be denying a dying man his last wish. I hoped he would understand.

One person was oddly absent. Perhaps Dr. Barnaby’s grief would be too difficult to hide among all this festivity. Or maybe he was preserving any emotional fortitude for the séance.