Read Online The Brontë Plot by Katherine Reay - Free Book Online Page B

hoping to find James. Three days and he hadn’t answered her texts or calls.
    Her smile faltered. “Helen, how are you? James mentioned you’d caught a cold.”
    â€œThe cough is still there. Doctors say it could take several more weeks to clear. I’m on more antibiotics than I can count.” Helen huffed and laid her handbag on a small Queen Anne chest, leaning over the upright handles. “This getting old is not for the old.”
    â€œI’m so sorry.”
    â€œMy grandson tells me you have my Jane Eyre . I’d like it back.”
    â€œI have his father’s Kidnapped too.” Lucy pulled them down. “Here they are. Did he tell you why I have them?”
    â€œHe did, but it’s still mine and I love it. He had no right to take Jane Eyre without my permission.”
    â€œI’m sorry . . . I can reprice them. There are algorithms for calculating valuations. Or I can refund his money.” Lucy dropped her hands to her sides. “I don’t have any excuse to give you, Helen. Sid doesn’t know, so please don’t think he—”
    â€œHush.” Helen held up a hand. “A little ink on the title page didn’t affect my enjoyment of the book before I knew you were the author of that ink. Why should it bother me now?”
    â€œIt should,” Lucy declared.
    â€œPerhaps, but it doesn’t. You and I aren’t going to discuss this anymore.” Helen waved the two books in her hands and gently placed them in her bag. With the same motion, she retrieved a slim silver case. “I have something else I want to discuss, but not now either.” She took a deep breath. It rattled in her lungs and emerged on a soft cough.
    Lucy watched as she slowly worked the case’s small latch.
    Helen’s fingers fumbled a few times before the case popped open on a tiny spring. She handed Lucy a stiff white calling card. “My address is on the back. Will you come to my apartment tomorrow?”
    â€œOf course.” Lucy wondered if Helen was waiting to canvas the issue with Sid then.
    â€œDon’t look as if I’m going to eat you.”
    â€œDo you want me to bring Sid?” Lucy ventured.
    â€œI want to talk to you and there’s nothing you need to bring. Well, your laptop might help. Let’s say ten o’clock?”
    â€œOkay.” Lucy fingered the embossed card. “Did James say anything . . .”
    â€œThis has nothing to do with James.”
    â€œIs he okay?” Lucy asked the question softly.
    Helen’s eyes softened. “He seems to be doing about as well as you are. But James doesn’t bend easily, dear.”
    â€œI wouldn’t want him to, really . . . Except in this case.” Lucy rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Why do you want me to come tomorrow?”
    â€œI have a favor to ask.” Helen lifted the black Hermes bag and draped it over her arm. “And tomorrow is Wednesday. You said it was your favorite day, so it’s the perfect day to discuss things.”

    Sid was twenty minutes late. But what an entrance! Lucy recognized him from his highly buffed cap-toed oxfords and his rich brown wool pant legs. And if his clothes hadn’t provided enough clues, the bag of fabric remnants hanging from his wrist gave him away. The rest of him, however, was lost somewhere behind the largest bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen. She hurried across the floor to help.
    â€œI’m simply speechless,” Lucy simpered. “You shouldn’t have.”
    â€œCute. They’re for Bitsy Milner. A final flourish to finish the house.”
    â€œYou’re late.”
    â€œI called her and told her to expect me at three o’clock. Gerald took longer to build this than he anticipated.” He rested the broad crystal vase on the worktable. It was filled over two feet high with layers of tight roses, peonies, tulips, and other bright, strong flowers,