A Lily Among Thorns(43)

Serena cut her eyes at him. “We aren’t going to Decker’s. I’m going to Decker’s. Alone.”

He frowned. “Is it dangerous? Surely it’s better if we go together.”

“It’s not dangerous. You just can’t go.”

“But he’s got my earrings!”

“And he won’t sell them between now and tomorrow morning. I’ll send him a message directly to hold them for me. He owes me a favor.”

“Why can’t I go?”

She looked away, but he saw her eyes crinkle in amusement. “You’re too squeamish to know.”

When they were finally settled under the mulberry trees in St. James’s Park with their lunch, Serena came out of a brown study to see that Solomon looked dejected, too. “I’ll get the earrings.”

He smiled at her. “I know.”

She looked away.

“I really am sorry about my uncle.”

“Why do you let him treat you like that?” She couldn’t have borne it, but then, maybe that explained why he had a large family that were at least fond of him and she didn’t. She took a bite of her pie.

Solomon looked surprised. “Isn’t that how family is?”

“Endlessly belittling? That’s certainly been my experience.”

Solomon snorted. “It’s different when it’s Uncle Hathaway. When Uncle Dewington tells me it’s time I put all this chemical dye nonsense behind me—deuced bad ton, don’t you know—I just want his guts for garters. Uncle Hathaway has my best interests at heart, at least.” He knotted his fingers and neatly cracked a walnut by snapping his palms together. It shouldn’t have been erotic, but it was. It was getting to the point where nearly everything he did was erotic, simply because he did it.

“So has Hannah More.”

Solomon smiled at the walnut in his hand, prying the meat out of its shell. “I’m fond of him, though. His family was awfully good to me when Elijah died.”

“You mean they fell awkwardly silent at your approach and gazed at you pityingly over dinner, and occasionally your uncle would lay a supportive hand on your shoulder.”

He laughed. “Well, yes. But—” He had eaten the walnut, but he kept his eyes on his hands. “Elijah was never interested in the shop. Uncle Hathaway was the only person I could be around without wondering if he would have rather I died instead.”

“But—” she began, appalled. “Surely your parents didn’t think that.”

“Probably not. Probably I was the only one who did. But they were all so unhappy. Elijah was always the one who knew what to say, who made everyone laugh. If it had been me, he could have made them feel better. I—I could barely speak to them anymore. I could barely speak to anyone. How could they not wish it?”

“But—”

“You never met him,” Solomon said with finality. “You don’t understand. He may have looked like me, but he was special. When he walked into a room, everyone turned to look.”

When Solomon walked into a room, every fiber of Serena’s being swung toward him like a needle toward the pole. “You’re special,” she said stubbornly. “And your uncle still doesn’t appreciate it enough.”

He sighed. “Serena, I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t necessarily want to discuss it.”

She nodded.

“After Elijah died, I moved my laboratory into the back of the shop for a while.”

“How kind of him, to allow you to use his space in your work for his business. I’ll wager he doesn’t pay you enough either.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Maybe.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant. I moved it there because I—well, I caught myself eyeing the bottle of arsenic. And I didn’t think I would, but I knew I wouldn’t if my cousin Clara might find the body.”

The oyster Serena had just eaten transformed itself into a brick in her stomach.

“I couldn’t sleep and I’d show up there at all hours to work. Uncle Hathaway took to waking at three or four in the morning and coming downstairs. He’d bring in tea, and then he’d go into the other room and work. He didn’t try to talk to me, but I could hear him through the door and it—it helped.”

Serena leaned back against a tree. “I—”