Page 22 of The Devil in Oxford
I wrapped my fingers around the chipped white cup before closing my eyes and lifting it to my lips, inhaling the earthy scent of tea as a chair scraped the tile floor across from me. I winced, opening my eyes, dreading which of my acquaintances had found me.
“Ruby Vaughn, you certainly are hard to find when you want to be…”
I bit my lower lip, struggling to disguise my smile as I saw my solicitor taking a seat in the dainty pastel green chair across from me. “Hari…”
He flashed me a dashing smile and folded his neatly manicured hands before him. “Don’t even begin devising excuses. I know you’ve been avoiding me for days and I suspect I know why.”
More like weeks… but I cocked my head to one side in acknowledgment. “It’s nothing personal, dearest. You know I adore you.”
“I weep for the soul you truly love.” He chuckled, not at all offended by the fact that I had climbed out of a window to avoid having this very conversation. Hari leaned back in his chair, a faint hint of amusement never leaving his lips. He was a formidable man, even dressed as he was in an immaculately tailored royal blue suit with a gray herringbone waistcoat. The dastar he wore was the same jewel-toned hue as his jacket. Everything looked smart on Hari Anand, even the drab khaki of the British Expeditionary Force uniform that he’d been wearing when we first met. It was an understatement to say I adored the fellow. Hari had also been orphaned during the war, and the pair of us struck up an easy friendship that carried us through the darkest of days. It was little wonder that he became my solicitor after the armistice, as he was one of the handful of people I trusted in this world.
“I saw in the papers what happened to Julius Harker.” His hazel eyes were fixed upon me as he laid down the offending newsprint on the table between us.
I picked up my teacup and took an indignant sip. “Don’t start with the pleasantries, Hari, you did not come here to talk about murder.”
“I did not, but as I read your name in the article, I felt compelled to bring it up and be certain you aren’t doing anything reckless.”
The corner of my mouth curved up. I set my teacup down slightly harder than intended, sending the brown liquid sloshing out onto the saucer to a harrumph of approbation from the matron at the table beside me. “I’m not involved in that—truly.” Perhapsthat was a tiny lie. I ran my finger over the tines of my fork, testing them against my flesh. “After the last few months, I cannot even walk down the street without someone assuming there’s some sort of supernatural nonsense afoot. Don’t pay the papers any mind.” The weariness must have been evident on my face as Hari’s expression softened.
“I had hoped you would say as much.” He rubbed his thick beard with the back of his hand. “Ruby… you do know why I’m here, don’t you?”
“Another imposter, I presume. That’s the only thing that would warrant you coming in person and not sending a letter or phoning me.”
Hari flattened his palms on his thighs, visibly relieved that I had already guessed his purpose. “Yes, yes there is. And I shall get to the point. This woman is requesting a meeting with you.”
Somehow hearing the words from his lips did not burn as much as I’d expected. “Can’t you send her away like all the others?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you think I have no experience in frightening away these women? Practically since I’ve known you, I have had one fraud after another showing up at my office door—some with children in tow—claiming to be your mother or Opal.”
My eyes burned at my sister’s name, but he told me nothing I did not know. Hari tried to shield me from the worst of it. But occasionally an intrepid imposter would require my attention and Hari would come—as he had today—with that same sympathetic glint in his lovely hazel eyes that told me how much it pained him to rehash old wounds.
“I have tried to get her to leave, but this woman… Ruby, she is not like the others. I am sorry for it, but I fear you need to speak with her.”
My jaw tightened and I swallowed hard. “If anyone should be sorry it is this woman trying to dredge up the past for money.”
He hesitated, tapping his finger three times on the table. “Yousee, that’s the thing about this woman. She hasn’t asked for money. She’s not asked for anything beyond the opportunity to speak to you. I’ve done everything in my power to frighten her off—but I fear…”
“You fear what?”
“I simply wonder if she might notbean imposter in the sense the others have been.”
My stomach knotted at his words and my skin grew cold. I thrust my hands into my lap, gathering my skirt in my fists to keep them from shaking. “What do you meannot an imposter?Hari, my mother died on theLusitania. As did my sister and my father. Unless the woman is aghost, she must be an imposter.”
Hari closed his eyes and sighed. The nearby matrons having overheard our conversation quieted as to gather more juicy breadcrumbs. Mention of ghosts and imposters clearly was more interesting than their egg-and-cress sandwiches.
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “What are you trying to say?”
He leaned forward. “You know that your mother and sister’s bodies were never found. This woman… she knows things. Things that only you’ve told me. Things that none of the others have known. Thingsno onecould know.”
“That does not mean she is my mother. Besides, there were plenty of others who were not recovered from the wreckage.” I didn’t know if the reassurance was for him or myself.
“I know.” He worried his lower lip, the familiar freckle there catching my attention. “I don’t think sheisyour mother. She’s far too young—but I do think you should speak to her and see what her motivation is. You know I have never asked this of you before, and would do anything to spare you this pain, but Ruby—what if there is a chance that your mother is alive somewhere and this woman is key to finding her?”
I bristled at the thought.
“It’s a chance I would take if it were me. What if she’s out there?”
“Then why would she not come herself?” I slammed my hand on the table, palm stinging. Bitter tears filling my eyes. “She’s dead, Hari. My mother is dead. Please don’t do this to me. Not you. Not now.”
