Page 89
Adele swept out of Mrs. Blakeney’s drawing room only to find it was not Hildy or one of her other housemaids waiting for her but Morgan, her mother’s lady’s maid.
“Oh, Mrs. Whitley!” Morgan gasped out, clearly on the verge of tears. “Mrs. Pearce told me to come fetch you. I went to your house, and they said you were here.”
“Why did Mama send you to fetch me?” she asked.
“Oh, Mrs. Whitley!” the young woman cried again, wringing a plain cotton handkerchief she twisted in her hands. “It’s Mr. Pearce.”
Papa.
Adele grabbed Morgan’s forearm. “What happened?”
“He collapsed,” sobbed Morgan.
Adele whirred around and found the Blakeneys’ housekeeper with her parasol already in hand.
“Thank you. Will you please tell Mrs. Blakeney—”
“I will give her your apologies and explain the situation. I will also see to it that Mrs. Benson is driven home,” said Mrs. Pritchard.
“Thank you,” Adele breathed before turning to Morgan. “Did you come on foot?”
“No, I hailed a cab,” Morgan choked out. “I told the driver to wait.”
“Good.” It meant she would not have to wait for her own carriage to be drawn around to the front of the Blakeneys’ house. “We’ll take that cab to my parents’ home.”
Hurrying out the front door, she climbed straight into the carriage unaided. Morgan followed her and then, with the snap of the driver’s reins, they were moving, and all that was left for Adele to do was wait and worry.
chapter thirty-two THERESA
June 1960
When I arrived at my parents’ home, it was already too late,” said Miss Pearce. “Papa had collapsed while reading in his study. The doctor said that by the time his valet found him and alerted my mother, who sent for the doctor, my father had probably been dead for an hour.
“I have always found it ironic that Papa came to Pasadena in part because he was seeking a cure for his tuberculosis. Yet that was not what killed him, but a heart attack.”
“I’m very sorry,” said Theresa.
Miss Pearce gave her a sad smile. “Thank you. By that time, I was well aware of his flaws, but my father was a gentle, well-meaning man. He would have loved nothing more than to be a country gentleman living on the profits of arable land, with only his books to concern him. His misfortune was that, already, society had begun to move on to make way for industrialists and men of great ambition. Papa clearly did not belong among their number.”
“What happened to your mother after he died?” Theresa asked.
“Well, that is a story. Shortly after Papa was buried in Mountain View Cemetery in Altadena, Guy announced that it no longer made sense to rent an entire house just for Mama when there was more than enough space for her to live at the Gables.”
“Oh,” said Theresa.
“Oh indeed,” said Miss Pearce. “I cannot pretend that I was thrilled at the prospect of once again living under the same roof as my mother, but the only alternative would have been to install her here at Rosewood House. Fortunately, I knew Mama would be as opposed to that idea as I was. She feared the isolation from society that would come from living here, and already I felt deeply protective of Rosewood House. I had brought it back to life, and I did not intend to see my mother pick it apart because it did not suit her taste.
“It was fortunate, really, because, in the months after my father’s death, I found Rosewood House to be something of a sanctuary. The rules of mourning were far stricter in those days, and I was very limited in what I could do. I could not make calls or see people during my period of seclusion. I am certain there are those who thought I was flaunting the rules by coming up here, but I challenge them to sit for weeks on end in a shut-up house with no one but their mother for company.”
“It isn’t a challenge I would want to face,” said Theresa.
Miss Pearce laughed. “No?”
Theresa hesitated. Journalists were not supposed to become too close to their sources—it muddied the waters, making it impossible to separate the personal from the story—but she could show a degree of empathy.
“My father died when I was fourteen,” she said.
“That is too young,” said Miss Pearce.