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Toby had known that he and Nicky were—not lovers, but something of that shape. Had he simply guessed? Or had Nicky let something slip, or even deliberately told Toby to provoke a reaction? If so, he’d succeeded: it was painfully clear that Toby had been jealous.
He’d exposed Nicky’s goings-on. That might be a motive for murder for some men on its own, and he’d spoken vilely to Nicky, but Nicky had cared only to regain Toby’s good opinion at Jem’s expense. It hadn’t been a motive for murder. It was just one of their rows.
He’d also attacked Ella and Aaron. Aaron was a deeply proud man and Toby had grossly insulted him, but Aaron wouldn’t kill for an insult, as proven by the many other insults Jem had seen him ignore. Although, they had not come from men he thought his friends.
Toby had expressed his intention of blocking the proposed marriage, but Jem was fairly sure he couldn’t have done so. The twins had turned twenty-one, and Ella could surely marry without anyone’s consent. Jem remembered her white face, though, her cold fury when Toby had made his threats. Had she taken them seriously? Had Toby had more power than Jem knew?
And Hugo. At the time, Jem had barely considered how bizarre it was that Hugo had offered Ella marriage. He’d never seemed attached to her, and Jem couldn’t in the slightest see how her reputation had needed saving, given nobody else had known of the engagement. And if Hugo had been pining over Ella, he’d got over it well enough. Still, it was odd.
Prue had been decidedly odd too, first silent and then shrill as though the words had burst out. That had come when Toby made his remark about people knowing their place. Jem had assumed that was directed at himself. What if it was at Prue?Had Prue hoped that Toby would marry her, perhaps been free with her favours, and been devastated to understand that he would not stoop?
It seemed unlikely. She’d been a provincial like Jem, of the virtuous working class who obeyed the laws and polished their doorsteps and waited for marriage. She wouldn’t have lifted her skirts for Toby. It would have gone against all her principles, never mind the risk of unwanted consequences that women ran.
Then again, Jem had made a bonfire of his conventions for Nicky, with the risk of two years’ hard labour, inevitable humiliation, and no chance of happiness at all, because he’d wanted him. Might a woman do the same?CouldToby have talked Prue into bed? If he’d made promises that he’d never intended to keep, and she’d believed him…
Jem sat up straight. He reached for his notebook and had to stretch uncomfortably to retrieve it from the floor, then flipped through the pages with urgent fingers.
Prue had married John Warren on the third of August 1895, and her son had been ‘not yet nine’ in November last year, when he died. That surely suggested he’d been close to nine, otherwise she’d have said ‘eight’. But a child conceived on the wedding night wouldn’t have turned nine until early May this year.
Jem might just go back to his old workplace before he went down to Oxford.
The return to the Registrar-General’s Bureau was a little daunting, after having left so abruptly, but Jem was surprised and a little touched by how ready his ex-colleagues were to assist him, and how much quiet sympathy he was offered. He took full advantage in looking for what he needed.
There was no record of Ella Feynsham marrying privately, which he’d toyed with as a remote possibility, and nothing in Toby’s father’s will to give his son any power over his daughter’s marriage, but his third guess was a success. There was a birth certificate for Joseph John Warren, son of John Alan Warren and Prudence Matilda Lenster, born on the twenty-first of January 1896, which was six months after her marriage, eight months after Toby’s murder. She’d fled back home not long after, and perhaps she’d met her husband, been smitten at once, anticipated her vows and given birth early. But the odds were that she had been in Oxford when her son was conceived.
Jem wished he’d looked harder at the photographs in her home. All he recalled was a monochrome image, which naturally didn’t show Toby’s red hair, although Prue’s son might have had her colouring anyway. He hadn’t noticed any resemblance to anyone in the slightly blurred, childish features, but he was never very good at that.
What would it mean if Prue had been carrying Toby’s child and he’d refused to marry her? Would she have known she was pregnant by then? Jem had no idea, but he knew a man who would, and he accordingly made a second appointment to see DrAaron Oyede, under his own name this time.
Aaron didn’t look overjoyed as Jem halted in.
‘Your foot looks painful,’ he observed in lieu of greeting. ‘Are you seeing someone?’
‘I have a doctor,’ Jem temporised. ‘I’ve been walking a great deal recently.’
‘Sit down. I don’t suppose that’s what you came to me about,’ Aaron added with a glimmer of humour.
‘I’m afraid not.’
Aaron massaged the broad bridge of his nose. ‘Jem…’
‘I know you think I should let sleeping dogs lie. I can’t. Did you know Prue had a son?’
‘I haven’t heard from her since she left Oxford.’
‘She did. He died a year ago. He was born on the twenty-first of January 1896.’
Aaron’s blank look took about a second to change. ‘Really.’
‘Yes. I saw the birth certificate. She married in August. I, uh, wondered how soon a woman might know if she was with child after the, the act.’
‘It depends,’ Aaron said. ‘Some don’t find out until they deliver. I’m entirely serious, you’d be amazed. The generally recognised sign is cessation of the menses—the monthlies,’ he added at Jem’s questioning look. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, man. Women usually realise within two to six weeks of conception, assuming their systems are regular and they are knowledgeable about the facts of life, but there is always variation. Some become aware of their condition within a few days of conception.’
‘So could she have known?’ Jem said. ‘If she was expecting, I mean. At Oxford.’
Aaron gave him a look. ‘Do you feel it right to speculate on this?’
‘No. It’s a gross intrusion and Prue’s affairs are none of my business, but you must see that if she was carrying Toby’s child that night?—’
