expecting to be pushed out the door.
“Oh, yes. Once a month, faithful as can be. For all the good it does.”
“Does she not recognize you?”
“Certainly. And therein lies the trouble. She blames us, you see, for having her committed. In her mad mind, she is perfectly sane and we are the crazy ones.” She turned away and picked up one of the pictures. “I don’t know why my father keeps this.” She handed it to Claire.
A young woman with dark hair piled high and wearing a tightly corseted gown stood to one side of a Greek pillar. One hand rested on the plinth, while the other held what appeared to be a key. The key of knowledge, one assumed. Indeed, her face was fierce, her eyes dark and intense, as if she were daring the photographer to get on with it; she had work to do. This was the face of a woman who would indeed fly at a man for getting in her way.
“Thank you for showing me.” She handed it back. “So she is allowed visitors?”
“Family only. Who else would want to see what her brains have made of her? And of the rest of us.”
Any empathy Claire might have felt was fast draining away. This woman was not crippled, nor was she lacking in intelligence. She could make her own way if it had not been more rewarding to blame someone else for her misfortunes.
“I appreciate your time.” Claire extended her hand again. “Good afternoon.”
She walked back to the Embankment as fast as she could, thankful for her escape from that narrow house. So Dr. Rosemary Craig was permitted family visitors, was she? Well, it was clear that Claire was not going to get any information from outside sources. Perhaps the poor lady in Bedlam would enjoy a visit from her long-lost cousin from Shropshire.
*
Express Mail
For Immediate Delivery
My dear Claire,
I am this moment in receipt of your tube. We will not discuss the advertisement—I was driven to it by desperation. I wish to speak of happier topics. As you can imagine, since I received Lord James’s letter two weeks ago I have been all aflutter. It was everything I could do not to buy a train ticket and come up to town immediately. Now I know why you have been so reluctant to join me here at Gwynn Place.
You sly minx, prating on about charitable works when all the time you have been indulging in a whirlwind flirtation with Lord James! I must credit your taste, if not your experience.
Let me advise you, dear. Accept only invitations from your closest circle. Due to our circumstances you were not able to make your curtsey to Her Majesty, so that means you must begin your Season with decorum. You may attend the theatre in Lord James’s company, and small dinners, but resist the temptation to be seen at any balls but those of the kind I might have attended with your dear father. Countess Selkirk, the Duchess of Wellesley, Lady Mount-Batting ... these are the best hostesses and are the only invitations you should accept.
I will place the announcement of your engagement in the Times this week. I will also write to Mr. Arundel to see if there is any possibility of a sum to settle upon you. Lord James has been very generous—I have read between the lines and he is quite prepared to take you in nothing but your petticoat—ah, young love!—but there must be something, somewhere, in the accounts. What are we to have a wedding dress made with, else?
Nicholas sends a kiss, and Polgarth the poultryman begs me to advise you that each bird must have eighteen inches of roosting space in the coop. I do not know what this means, but I am dutifully passing it on.
I will let this do. Please write soonest and tell me of your plans. I must have a wedding date to put in the announcement. And do have Lord James bring you down for a visit within the month. I want to get to know him better.
Ever your loving
Mama
*
Claire rolled up the lavender-scented paper and tossed it in the fire burning merrily in the cottage’s hearth. Willie turned big eyes on her
“Oh, yes. Once a month, faithful as can be. For all the good it does.”
“Does she not recognize you?”
“Certainly. And therein lies the trouble. She blames us, you see, for having her committed. In her mad mind, she is perfectly sane and we are the crazy ones.” She turned away and picked up one of the pictures. “I don’t know why my father keeps this.” She handed it to Claire.
A young woman with dark hair piled high and wearing a tightly corseted gown stood to one side of a Greek pillar. One hand rested on the plinth, while the other held what appeared to be a key. The key of knowledge, one assumed. Indeed, her face was fierce, her eyes dark and intense, as if she were daring the photographer to get on with it; she had work to do. This was the face of a woman who would indeed fly at a man for getting in her way.
“Thank you for showing me.” She handed it back. “So she is allowed visitors?”
“Family only. Who else would want to see what her brains have made of her? And of the rest of us.”
Any empathy Claire might have felt was fast draining away. This woman was not crippled, nor was she lacking in intelligence. She could make her own way if it had not been more rewarding to blame someone else for her misfortunes.
“I appreciate your time.” Claire extended her hand again. “Good afternoon.”
She walked back to the Embankment as fast as she could, thankful for her escape from that narrow house. So Dr. Rosemary Craig was permitted family visitors, was she? Well, it was clear that Claire was not going to get any information from outside sources. Perhaps the poor lady in Bedlam would enjoy a visit from her long-lost cousin from Shropshire.
*
Express Mail
For Immediate Delivery
My dear Claire,
I am this moment in receipt of your tube. We will not discuss the advertisement—I was driven to it by desperation. I wish to speak of happier topics. As you can imagine, since I received Lord James’s letter two weeks ago I have been all aflutter. It was everything I could do not to buy a train ticket and come up to town immediately. Now I know why you have been so reluctant to join me here at Gwynn Place.
You sly minx, prating on about charitable works when all the time you have been indulging in a whirlwind flirtation with Lord James! I must credit your taste, if not your experience.
Let me advise you, dear. Accept only invitations from your closest circle. Due to our circumstances you were not able to make your curtsey to Her Majesty, so that means you must begin your Season with decorum. You may attend the theatre in Lord James’s company, and small dinners, but resist the temptation to be seen at any balls but those of the kind I might have attended with your dear father. Countess Selkirk, the Duchess of Wellesley, Lady Mount-Batting ... these are the best hostesses and are the only invitations you should accept.
I will place the announcement of your engagement in the Times this week. I will also write to Mr. Arundel to see if there is any possibility of a sum to settle upon you. Lord James has been very generous—I have read between the lines and he is quite prepared to take you in nothing but your petticoat—ah, young love!—but there must be something, somewhere, in the accounts. What are we to have a wedding dress made with, else?
Nicholas sends a kiss, and Polgarth the poultryman begs me to advise you that each bird must have eighteen inches of roosting space in the coop. I do not know what this means, but I am dutifully passing it on.
I will let this do. Please write soonest and tell me of your plans. I must have a wedding date to put in the announcement. And do have Lord James bring you down for a visit within the month. I want to get to know him better.
Ever your loving
Mama
*
Claire rolled up the lavender-scented paper and tossed it in the fire burning merrily in the cottage’s hearth. Willie turned big eyes on her
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