Hannah skimmed back inside, balancing a full tea tray in her hands. I curbed my instinct to help her, as an invited guest would expect the servants to do any heavy work.
Hannah carried the loaded silver tray as though it weighed nothing and placed it in the middle of the table. She began to set out cups, three of them.
“Lord Downes will not be joining us,” Lady Fontaine said to her. “I invited him, as I told you, but he declined. Womanly nonsense, he said.” Her voice took on a tender note. “Lord Downes has been like a rock. He lives next door, you see. Has been holding my hand through it all. Well, not literally.” Lady Fontaine barely stopped herself from giggling.
If Lord Downes, the gruff and blustering neighbor Mr.Fielding had sent his man to work for as groom, had lived in Belgrave Square long, he’d have come to know Lady Fontaine through her visits to her brother. Perhaps he’d grown fond of her and she of him. Marrying him might solve her financial dilemma for now, though I wondered if Lord Downes would carry his fondness that far.
Hannah showed no annoyance that she’d brought an extracup and tea cakes for nothing. “Will that be all, your ladyship?” she asked with faultless courtesy.
“Youwill stay with us, Marjory,” Lady Fontaine announced. “I wanted Lord Downes to make a third party—the spirits prefer more of the living to interact with. Mrs.Proctor—she’s our housekeeper—said she’d not have any truck with ghosts, and Fagan would be useless. So you will stay. You are not afraid, are you?” Lady Fontaine sent Hannah a piercing gaze, as though ready to mock her if she betrayed any fear.
“Not at all, your ladyship,” Hannah answered without changing expression.
“Good girl. Now pour out the tea. Mrs.Crowe and I will drink, and then she will read my leaves.”
I started. “No, your ladyship. I cannot.”
Hannah flicked a glare at me, which Lady Fontaine did not notice. “Why ever not?” Lady Fontaine demanded.
“I am not a clairvoyant,” I said quickly. “I can sense the departed and let them communicate through me, but I can’t foretell the future. They are two different things.”
“Oh,” Lady Fontaine said in disappointment. “I didn’t know that.”
I would not have known it either, but I’d once worked with a housekeeper who was very certain she had second sight. She’d told me many things about spiritualism, whether I’d wanted to hear of them or not. I shared Hannah’s opinion, that mediums and fortune tellers were charlatans, but that housekeeper had been very certain she gleaned things that others did not.
Perhaps she did. I hadn’t the heart to take away the one dream she had of becoming a celebrated clairvoyant, so I’d kept my skepticism to myself.
“The tea looks splendid, in any case,” I said. “While wepartake, perhaps you can tell me more about your brother.” When Lady Fontaine regarded this remark in surprise, I hurried on. “It will help me recognize him when I seek him out. I’ve never met him, and he might be more comfortable if I know things about him.”
Whether Hannah approved or disapproved of my ruse, she made no sign. She poured tea and laid out cakes without a word.
“Of course.” Lady Fontaine gestured me to the table, where Hannah continued to work. “Sit down, Mrs.Crowe, and I will tell you all I can.”
I deferentially stood by and let Lady Fontaine be seated first—though I was not a servant in this scenario, I was not in her class—then I took the chair opposite her.
Hannah could not sit if Lady Fontaine did not invite her, so she finished serving and retreated to the window. She stood like a statue, the attentive maid who would keep a discreet distance until called for, while not so far as to inconvenience the lady who needed her.
“My brother was not the paragon others thought him, I will tell you plainly, Mrs.Crowe,” Lady Fontaine began. “But I loved him dearly.” She brushed an invisible tear from the corner of her eye.
I sipped the tea, pleased to find it of fine quality. If I did nothing else useful in this house, at least I would partake of a decent cup of tea.
“I am certain you did,” I said in a soothing tone. “I can sense it.”
“Edwin was a handsome youth, so athletic when we were growing up.” Lady Fontaine’s gaze went remote, the rigidity in her face easing as she warmed to her topic. “He won all the races with his friends as a child, and when he went to school,he did races and things there as well. Won many awards. Lord Downes was also quite an athlete in his day—though you’d never know to look at him now. Of course, he is a bit older than Edwin.” Lady Fontaine sighed. “Then Edwin somehow got a wasting disease. No doctor could decide what was happening to him. He simply walked more and more slowly, or one leg or the other would seize up for no reason. When Edwin started to fall more than walk, he resigned himself to the wheeled chair. He was never ill a day in his life, and he was quite hearty, even with the weakening of his limbs.”
Lady Fontaine brought out a lace handkerchief and dabbed her eyes, this time wiping away true tears.
“He had many friends,” I said gently. “I can sense that as well. This house was lively, was it not?”
Lady Fontaine brightened. “Oh, yes. Edwin always had people coming and going. He was personable, brilliant at conversation. I looked forward to my visits.”
“No quarrels of any kind?” I asked as I nibbled a tea cake. The cake was far too dry, and any currants in it were miniscule. Daniel had told me the cook doted on Lord Peyton, but she obviously skimped for Lady Fontaine.
“Perhaps there were disagreements on politics and such,” Lady Fontaine said. “But argued with only the greatest respect. Not that I understood much of those conversations. Ladies don’t need to, do they?” Her gaze encouraged me to agree that women should be political dunces.
“He did sometimes have a lady here besides yourself.” I closed my eyes briefly as though searching the ether for visions of Lord Peyton’s past. “One who spoke about politics with him.”
“Well, there is Mrs.Lofthouse.” Lady Fontaine waved a dismissive hand. “Such a bluestocking. She and her husbandstated adamantly that the Irish should break from us. What nonsense. Ireland has always been a part of Britain.”
