House of Salt and Sorrows(49)

Now alone on the steps of the shop, I didn’t know what to do. A group of men covered Edgar’s body with a sheet and pushed the crowds back onto the sidewalk. I wanted to join my sisters and Cassius, but suddenly I was terrified of getting too close to the body. The white sheet was quickly turning red. I turned away, studying the display of pocket watches in the window as tears sprang to my eyes.

He hadn’t jumped. He couldn’t have.

Fisher returned moments later, his eyes dark as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Annaleigh. No one was there.”





“Someone was there!” I repeated hours later, nearly shouting in frustration, as Camille sat at her vanity, playing with a new color of blush. She swirled the brush over her cheeks, turning them a creamy shade of peach. “You can’t possibly be going dancing tonight.”

“Why? Because Edgar killed himself? I never thought of him in life; I should hardly be expected to grieve him in death.”

“You were crying this afternoon. I saw you!”

“It was upsetting. It’s not as though people hurl to their deaths every time I make a trip to the market.”

I took the pot of color from her. “Please don’t go. Stay home with me.”

She arched her eyebrow. “I will not. And you shouldn’t either. Come with us and forget about everything.” She smirked, applying a generous swish of color to her lips. “Of course, I suppose you wouldn’t want to forget everything about today.” She handed me a sparkling necklace. Tonight’s theme was the Jewels of Court, and she was wearing the rose-gold dress from the triplets’ ball. “Can you fasten that for me? The clasp is so tiny.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What shouldn’t I forget?”

Her smile was sly and knowing. “I saw you through the tavern windows before…Edgar. Alone with that boy.”

“The Graces were at the counter, getting cider.”

I settled the paste jewels against the hollow of her throat.

“You looked awfully happy to be talking about cider. Who is he, anyway?”

“You’re not ready yet?” Ligeia asked, striding in. “We’re going to miss the first quadrille!”

“I’m ready,” Camille said, standing with a twirl.

“I’m not going.”

Ligeia’s face fell. “Why not?”

I cast the blush aside. “We saw a man die today. How can you possibly want to go dancing?”

“We didn’t really see him die. He was already dead. Besides, we finally have new shoes.”

I toyed with a little hangnail on my ring finger. A fat drop of blood welled up as I ripped it free. “They’re not broken in. You’ll get blisters.”

Camille handed me a handkerchief. “Then we’ll get blisters. Go off to bed, then, spoilsport.” She kissed my cheek good night. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

I tried one last tactic. “You look as though you could use a good night’s sleep as well.”

Despite the swipe of color across her cheeks, dark circles remained under her eyes, purple and splotchy against her pale skin.

“I’ll do that. Tomorrow.”

Camille grabbed her reticule and turned off her sconces, plunging the hall into total darkness, save for my candle’s glow. She and Ligeia slipped down the back stairs, heading to meet Rosalie and Lenore in the garden.

Furtive giggling escaped from Mercy’s room. No doubt she, Honor, and Verity were up to some mischief. I listened at the door for a long moment, wondering if I should break up their fun. There was humming and laughter and Mercy counting out beats above it all.

“And one, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three, turn.”

Even they were dancing tonight.

After lighting the candelabras on either side of my bed, I hung up my dinner dress and put on a clean nightgown. It was soft voile, dotted along the neckline and sleeves with bands of embroidered snowdrops.

At my own vanity, I took out a handful of hairpins and combed through my twisted locks. Mama said brushing your hair before bed not only left it radiant but also helped untangle pent-up thoughts from the day, ensuring relaxed and peaceful slumber. I wasn’t sure how many strokes it would take to unravel this particular tangle. I feared I’d never get the image of Edgar’s broken spectacles from my mind.

The silver brush caught the candlelight, hypnotizing me through the mirror as it swooped over my dark locks. Had I made a mistake, not going with my sisters? I was too alone with my thoughts here. If I’d gone dancing, I’d at least have been too busy to stew.

Someone ran past my door, snapping me from my reverie.

I poked my head out, looking down the dark corridor. A burst of giggles sounded from the back stairs. With a tired sigh, I headed toward them. I’d catch the Graces in whatever game they were playing, send them to bed, then go to sleep myself. It was far too late for such nonsense.

I scurried down the hall, hoping to stop them before they woke the whole house. As I stepped on the first tread, I heard laughter from behind me. I whirled around, holding my candle out, but no one was there. Peering into the darkness, I squinted, but the shadows remained still.

“Verity?” I could always count on her to crack first.

Silence.

“Mercy? Honor? This isn’t funny.”