Page 142 of Perfume Girl
She stared off into space. “My husband was so loud he woke the children. We were arguing. Well, he was. I knew well enough to remain silent. They found me lying on the floor with my jaw broken, barely conscious.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
“When one of them falters.”
My thoughts scattered as I realized if she was on the floor barely awake then it had been one of the children who had defended her. And it had been Astor who had been sent away. Penelope had been so much younger than him.
I heard the floor creak behind me.
“Raquel?” Astor stood in the doorway.
Guilt made me tongue-tied for a moment. “Astor.”
“I see you’ve met my mother.” He gave me a rueful smile. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”
With a nod of thanks to Mrs. Beauregard, I turned to go.
“Raquel,” she whispered.
I faced her.
“I had a choice,” she said softly. “And Astor insisted he make it for me.”
I tried to unscramble what she meant.
“Please, Ms. Wren,” said Astor.
I followed him out into the hallway. “I was looking for you.”
“Well, now you’ve found me.” He gestured toward the stairs. “Shall we?”
Gripping the banister, I descended the steps alongside him, looking over to gauge his reaction, but he was too hard to read.
“I hear you stopped off at my office?” He glanced my way.
“I wanted to talk with you.” I followed him to the center of the foyer.
Astor looked over my shoulder. “It’s fine, Arthur.”
“You know her, sir?” said the middle-aged man dressed like a butler.
I was once again reminded how wealthy they were.
“Yes, I do. Thank you, Arthur.” Astor took hold of my wrist and led me down a long hallway.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
He gave me a humorless smile. “How are you?”
“Not good.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Astor, I lo—”
“Don’t say it.” His hand shot up. “Not now. And not here.”
I clutched the ledger to my chest. “How’s Caine?”
“He was a stray. He was boarded at a dog rescue and escaped through a hole in the fence.”
