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Chapter Twenty-One
Dear Mr. Robertson,
I am indisposed. I shall advise further when a visit becomes possible.
CC
Clara sealed the letter and gave it to Loudon to see it delivered.
After two and a half months, this was first time that she and James had gone more than a handful of days between visits.
She presumed that he would understand her message; it had been a matter of time, after all. She finally displayed all the signs of being on the verge of menstruation.
Today she was due to meet Stella at Miss Smith’s. She felt slightly unwell but determined to enjoy an outing before her flow started in earnest and she was confined.
As soon as she walked into the Lilac Room, the cloying smell of the baked goods hit her, and nausea overtook her. She considered leaving, but Stella awaited, looking like a confection herself in a pale blue bonnet and gown adorned with cream accents.
Once they had privacy, Stella imparted sad news. “Mrs. Pyle’s sister has passed. She left this morning for Newbury. She’ll be gone for a few weeks.”
“Poor Mrs. Pyle! And Mr. Pyle has gone as well?”
Stella shook her head. “He remained in London.”
“Oh no, shall we send him after her? Surely we could make do and find extra help so that he may follow.”
“He stayed because his presence would not have been a comfort. It seems that Mrs. Pyle’s children did not approve of her marriage, or her coming to London.”
“Oh. I know that Mrs. Pyle was a widow with grown children when she met Mr. Pyle, but they seem so suited. Would her family not wish her to be content?”
Stella’s normally sweet countenance turned sardonic. “Is that what families wish?”
“Sometimes,” Clara said eventually, then turned back to practicalities. “Is it not Mrs. Pyle who goes to the bank?”
“Yes. But Mr. Pyle can do so, and I may go in his stead, if needed. Most of the bills can wait, but the laundress is paid weekly on Fridays. I’ll take the maids to the market.”
After Clara declined all cakes, Stella looked to her nearly untouched tea. “Are you unwell?”
“My visitor will arrive soon,” explained Clara, invoking the common euphemism.
Stella nodded, her suspicion confirmed. Clara’s visitor, not so monthly, often made her ill.“Have you noticed any differences since taking Mrs. Patton’s powders?”
“I’m not certain.” Clara shrugged.
Her cycles were so unpredictable in frequency, length, and intensity that it was difficult to assess. Molly had been so concerned during her first year of employment that she urged her to find a treatment. Clara hadn’t thought to worry; her cycles had always been thus.
“So you won’t be calling on J.R. for a bit. Will you miss him?”
“Yes. But it gives me a period of rest as well. How tiresome it is to be awakened before dawn.”
“I would say. Are you finished with him, then?”
“No!” Clara couldn’t hide her shock. “Of course not.”
“There is no ‘of course not.’ This is a rather long liaison already, isn’t?”
“I haven’t accumulated enough for my repository to make it through life based on this experience!”
Stella tilted her head gracefully as she attempted to decipher this. “Yourrepository?”
