Page 84 of Murder at Hambledon Hall
I kissed him. He released my fingers and circled his arms around me and kissed me, too.
When it ended, Harry pressed his forehead to mine. “Is this real? Or am I still dreaming?”
“It’s real.”
“Good,” he said on a contented sigh. “Let me dress and I’ll take you home.”
I waited just inside the door while he disappeared into the adjoining bedroom. Harry’s flat was rather plain, befitting a bachelor who never brought home female guests. Photographs of his birth mother, as well as the parents who’d adopted him, added a personal touch, as did books on architecture and science. He owned a few novels, but they weren’t well-thumbed like mine. There was no dust on the furniture, in stark contrast to Esmond Shepherd’s cottage where dust and grime were everywhere.
Harry emerged from the bedroom fully clothed, a jacket slung over his arm. He took a coat from the stand and placed it around my shoulders, then put on the jacket. “Ready?”
The fabric at his shoulder was crumpled. I smoothed it with the palm of my hand then stroked his jaw, rough with stubble. “Ready.”
He turned his face and kissed my wrist, then he took my hand and led me outside.
We continued to hold hands as we walked. “Now, tell me why you were crying. What happened?”
“My aunt said some things…” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter what she said. I wasn’t crying because I’d taken her words to heart, I was upset because I didn’t recognize her. Aunt Lilian is sweet and kind. The woman she has become isn’t her, and I was upset because I want her back. I don’t know how to go about it, Harry. I don’t even know how to begin.”
“You can’t do much unless she wants to get better.”
“I know, and in the meantime, I’ll be there for her, although it won’t be easy if she continues to say nasty things.”
Harry squeezed my hand. “We need to speak to a doctor who specializes in cocaine addiction. Perhaps with a little guidance, we can be more useful.”
“Should we ask your uncle for a name?” As hotel manager, Mr. Hobart could get his hands on the rarest of things, from tickets to sold-out theater shows, to appointments with the Prince of Wales’s tailor. But a doctor specializing in cocaine addiction might be beyond him. Indeed, I doubted such a fellow even existed. It was an affliction most medical professionals didn’t even recognize as a problem.
“I’ll ask Dr. Garside,” Harry said.
“The scientist from St. Mary’s Hospital who helped us on the poisoning case?”
“The same. He’s well-connected and keeps up to date on medical breakthroughs and theories. If anyone knows of a specialist in the field, he will.”
My heart swelled. Harry had offered me kind words and support before, but this time he was giving me more. He was giving me a practical solution, and that gave me hope.
I stopped between lampposts and drew him into another kiss. He lifted me onto my toes in his eagerness. Even though we were on a main street, it was late at night and the light was poor. If someone we knew happened to pass by, they wouldn’t know it was us. Although we’d moved our relationship a giant leap forward tonight, we still had obstacles to overcome. The greatest obstacle of all being my family. I didn’t want to be forced to face that obstacle until we were both ready.
We continued our walk but stopped holding hands as we drew closer to the hotel. Harry asked if he could see me in the morning, but I had to decline.
“I’ve made arrangements to go to Hambledon Hall, and I don’t want to lose the opportunity to look around inside.” I told him what I’d learned that day, beginning with the telephone call from Reverend Pritchard and finishing with Mrs. Browning’s revelation about Esmond Shepherd’s difficulty reading.
Harry didn’t say anything, but I could see he was worried. “I’ll come to Morcombe, too. Meet me in the teashop when it’s all over.”
“I’ll be all right,” I assured him. “There won’t be any danger to me.”
“I’m not worried about your safety. I want to make sure you haven’t changed your mind about this.”
I laughed softly before kissing him again. “I won’t, but your company on the journey home will be welcome.”
Someone standing behind Harry cleared his throat, making me jump. Harry stepped aside to reveal Victor, arms crossed over his chest. Despite the formidable pose, he looked amused and rather smug.
“You’re lucky Philip fetched me and not Sir Ronald or Mr. Bainbridge,” he said. “He suspected you’d gone to see a…friend and thought it best if another friend went to check you’d arrived safely, rather than send a family member after you. I was just finishing my shift.”
If I’d been capable of clear thought at the time, I would have realized Philip would worry. It may not be terribly late and there were still many respectable people making their way to and from theaters and private parties, but it was nighttime and I was a lone female. To think of fetching Victor, who was not only my friend but someone who was still in the building rather than in his room at the residence hall, was well done indeed.
My hasty goodbye to Harry wasn’t as heartfelt as I would have liked given the momentousness of the evening, but I felt awkward in front of Victor. When we reached the door to the hotel, I turned around and waved.
Harry stood there, watching, and waved back.
