Page 38 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
“Indeed he is. We expect him any day now. He stayed behind to see to the final details of selling his forge, but he meant to follow us fairly quickly.”
“Gyda said he means to stay in London?”
“Yes. He has work with a man who customizes high-end hotel rooms and train cars. He’ll be able to use his creativity in new ways.”
“And he’s coming… on his own?” Beth asked carefully.
“Oh, yes. Quite on his own. But he’ll stay with us for a bit. It will be grand, having a chance to be all together again, won’t it?”
Beth colored. “Yes. Yes, it will.”
“Maisie and I were just discussing setting up a picnic. You must join us, when we finally manage to sort out all the schedules.”
“Thank you. I would love to.”
“Excellent,” Kara said, trying to appear as nonchalant as Beth was striving to be. “Look, I think the maid has brought out a platter of your cook’s famous seed cake. Let’s go get some before Niall eats it all.”
*
Niall made ithome, collapsed into bed, and slept hard for several hours. He woke up feeling refreshed and thinking of Kara’s agreement that they should “practice” to increase their chances at parenthood. Luckily, his wife peeked in to see if he was awake. He lured her close with a sleepy smile, grabbed her, pulled her in, and nuzzled her until she was persuaded to set aside the letters she was writing.
All of this put him in a very fine mood, of course, but it wasn’t the reason he agreed to Kara’s proposal that he attend Glynn Foulger’s internment. They were discussing it over dinner and Niall nodded obligingly. “I will do it for the lass, of course, but also because I wouldn’t mind a word with Royston, either. It doesn’t sit well with me, knowing that the girl successfully evaded young Arnold until Royston practically led the man to her home.”
“I was there when Royston gave Sergeant Landover Mr. Yardley’s address,” Kara said, clearly looking back in her mind’s eye. “But that is a far cry from giving a young woman’s information to anyone who asks you in the street.”
“I’d like to be sure he understands the distinction,” Niall said darkly. He turned to Stayme. “Do you know anything about the man?”
“Royston, you said?” The viscount looked up from his salmon. “I don’t believe so. Would you like me to have a poke around in my files?”
“I might,” Niall answered. “Let’s see how he responds to my warning.”
“Excuse me, Your Grace.” Turner cleared his throat from the doorway. “Inspector Wooten is here.”
Niall stood as Turner moved aside to allow the inspector to enter. “Come in, come in, sir. Have you dined? Join us.”
“I have. My wife packed a sack of sandwiches for the train, but I thank you.” The inspector took the offered seat and thanked Turner asthe butler poured him a glass of wine.
“You can have dessert with us, then,” Kara told him. “Harold requested Cook’s jam roly-poly, and she made enough for everyone in the house.”
“Well, now.” Wooten looked pleased. “Who would turn down jam roly-poly?”
“Peasant food,” Stayme said with a sniff. He caught Kara’s look and raised a hand. “But I am not turning it down! No, indeed.”
Wooten took a sip of wine. “Was it Royston you were discussing as I came in?”
“Indeed,” said Niall. “He is to attend Glynn Foulger’s burial tomorrow.”
“He was going to be the only attendee,” Kara added. “That is, until Niall kindly agreed to go.”
“Perhaps I shall accompany you,” Wooten said. “Where is she to be buried?”
“At All Saints, in South Bermondsey,” Kara said. “The charity volunteers took up a collection to pay for it. Beth said there was some discussion on which cemetery would be acceptable, but All Saints was judged to be close, but also far enough away from the river.” She lifted a shoulder at Niall’s questioning gaze. “You’ll recall that Miss Foulger’s loathing of the river was mentioned several times?”
“Yes, along with her general loathing of men,” Niall agreed.
“Well, Beth told me the reason for her hatred of the river. Any river, it would seem. Apparently the scar on Glynn’s face came from an accident when she was a very young woman. It was a bridge disaster that occurred in Yarmouth, where she grew up. Glynn told the story to her friends at the charity. A large group of children had gathered on a bridge over the river. It must have been a festival of some sort, because they had all gone out to watch a clown in a barrel being pulled downriver by a flotilla of geese. As he passed under the bridge, the weight shifted, which caused the chains on one side tosnap. The bridge deck flipped over, dumping the children into the river. Seventy-nine of them died, including Glynn’s younger sister. Beth said that the special smocks she made for the charity were in memory of the girl.”
“Good heavens,” said Niall.
