A Lily Among Thorns(14)
“Yes, my brother Elijah. He spoke French very well.”
The man’s dark eyes examined Solomon, suspicious at first and then merely disappointed. “No, I see you are not he. But it is his face, his voice: yes, his brother. I—did not know he was English.” He shook himself a little, and asked more cheerfully, “But Thierry—Elijah”—he pronounced it carefully—“you are his brother, you know where he is—how I can find him?”
Solomon looked away. “Elijah’s dead.”
“Pardon?” But from the tremor in his voice, Solomon thought the man had understood.
“He’s dead. I’m sorry.”
“Dead. As, he lives no more?”
Solomon nodded. How many more times would he have to say it?
All the blood drained from the man’s face. “I see. How did he die, if you please?”
“He was killed by—” Solomon was about to say the French, but thought better of it. “He was shot.”
The man’s lips parted, as if he himself had taken a bullet. “I see. Please, accept my condolences on the loss of your brother.”
“Thank you. How—how did you know him? Please, I’d like to hear—” Actually, he could imagine it easily. It would have been very like Elijah to meet the Frenchman by chance and see if he could pass himself off as French, and very like Elijah—who had always been announcing he would build a six—no, an eight—no, a twelve-story house of cards, and who had always laughed when it came tumbling down—to see how far he could take it. Apparently rather far.
“Well, after all, I did not know him very well.”
“But—”
“Mais non, I assure you, we did not meet but once or twice.”
“René!” Lady Serena’s voice, behind them, was more unabashedly happy than he’d ever heard it. Solomon felt a small, irrational pang of jealousy. “How charming to see you again. But what is the matter? You look queer as Dick’s hatband.”
“Nothing, ma petite sirène,” he said as she ushered the two of them into her office. “It will pass. I—only I knew this gentleman’s brother, a little, and he is dead, it appears.”
Serena stole a glance at Solomon. “Yes,” she said quietly. “He is.” They stood in silence for a few moments. “But I must introduce to you the gentleman who has taken your room. René, allow me to present Solomon Hathaway. Solomon, this is René, marquis du Sacreval and my erstwhile business partner.” She still sounded so damn happy and trying to hide it, like a child who thought she was too old to make a fuss about Christmas.
The marquis and Solomon evinced equal surprise—Solomon would have almost said the Frenchman looked unsettled. “Did you say Hattaway?” he asked, nose wrinkling. “How very English. And are you from Stratford?”
“Yes, Hathaway,” Solomon said. “Sorry about the t-h. No, it’s no relation to Shakespeare’s wife that I know. We’re from Shropshire.”
The marquis frowned and turned cajolingly to Serena. “You have given him my room, ma sirène? But I will be needing it.”
She shrugged. “If you’d sent me word you were coming I could have saved it for you, but as it is, I’ll hardly ask Solomon to move. You can have the apricot room if you like; it’s just across the hall.”
“He can have the room,” Solomon said, trying not to think of that connecting door. “It’s his, after all.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No, the room is mine. I’m happy to put René up free of charge at any time, but, as I’m sure he will acknowledge, I bought out his share in the Arms when he left for France.”
The marquis pressed his lips together, looking cornered. “It is that which I must speak to you about, ma sirène. I have not been able to recover my lands in France, Napoleon is back, alors, I am forced to return to your green island.”
Serena’s birthmark lifted hopefully. “You must be disappointed, but of course I’ll be delighted to sell you back any share of the Arms you care to buy, up to fifty percent, or to hire you on as my assistant for a fixed salary if you’d prefer.”
“I would be prepared to buy you out.”
The birthmark hunkered down. “Buy me out, René?” she asked. “You know I won’t leave the Arms.”
His gaze held hers unwaveringly. “You are sure that you do not want to consider it? I can give you double what we paid for it.”