After months, countless meetings, planning, and the painful surgeries and recovery that had followed, it was finally time to set their plan in motion…
One
DECEMBER, 1890, LONDON
Our coach pulledin through the gated entrance at Sussex Square, my great-aunt’s residence in London.
Lady Antonia Montgomery, my great-aunt, had raised my sister and me after the deaths of both our parents. She was the nearest family there was for the both of us.
Except of course for the man seated across from me, Angus Brodie, formerly of the Metropolitan Police now with his own private inquiry business, and… under circumstances that were still quite surprising for me— my husband. At least as far as the magistrate in the north of Scotland was satisfied.
I say, quite surprising, as I had been fairly certain, until two years ago, precisely what the path of my life would be. I had avoided that dreaded state of matrimony with particular expectations for one of my station.
I had previously ended what I was certain was going to be a very boring and mind-numbing proper betrothal, and begun my travels that included Europe, the Near East, encountered the Bedouin, sailed the Nile, and lived for some time in the Far East where I had followed my curiosity and experienced things that respectable English women simply did not do.
That included dueling lessons in France— I was quite accomplished in that, the ancient art of self-defense in the Orient, and other sports while proper ladies indulged in games of whist or lawn tennis, and quietly discussed when they might be given the vote after it was banned some decades earlier.
It might be said that my unusual childhood, raised in the wilds of Scotland at my aunt’s estate, Old Lodge, or her somewhat unconventional household in London, might not have been the proper environment for two young girls.
It might be… But I had loved it and as for my sister, she had survived quite nicely.
Now it seemed that earlier experience with my aunt had come full circle. Or possibly a partial circle in the young girl who was now my ward.
It was one of those occasions where I had leapt before I looked, so to speak, after encountering Lily in a previous inquiry case in Edinburgh.
She was orphaned as far as she or anyone knew, working in a brothel… No, not that sort of work. She was the women’s maid and worldly beyond her years, with a fiery disposition and courage that I much admired.
She had been helpful in assisting me during the case, even at the risk to herself. Admittedly, she had seen it as a great adventure in her otherwise dull and boring life.
The thought of her returning to work in a brothel or tavern which I had seen far too many times in the East End, was not something I was willing to accept.
I had made a proposal to provide for her education and care for the next several years. Perhaps more than a little suspicious of my offer— something I could identify with— she had initially refused.
Then I had received a telegram informing me that she had changed her mind. Mr. Munro, the manager of my aunt’sestates, had set off to Edinburgh to retrieve her. She had arrived very nearly two months before, wide-eyed, curious yet guarded, and declared that she would give it a try.
It was pointed out at the time by more than one person, including Brodie, that she reminded them of me. I do not know where that idea came from.
It might have been that hint of stubbornness, determination to do things her own way, and that insatiable curiosity.
Whatever the reason, here we were.
Lily spent a great deal of time at Sussex Square for a variety of reasons, which my aunt had immediately pointed out.
Reason number one: Our aunt had previous experience as a parental figure with my sister and I, and she was quite accustomed to having someone young about.
Reason number two: My aunt knew precisely the best people to contact. That included tutors, dressmakers, and most particularly someone who was well-schooled in proper elocution.
Lily, my aunt declared, could simply not go about speaking as she did when she first arrived. She would either find herself in a brawl or the gaol. There was that influence of the streets and the brothel, which I fully understood.
Admittedly she had a habit of cursing, quite colorful with that Scots accent. I thought the person in charge of that might have their hands full as I was still given to a colorful word myself from time to time.
Reason number three: There were my novels and the cases I participated in with Brodie, along with that other situation…
A newly married woman needed to spend time with her husband, my aunt declared. However, not from practical experience it should be noted.
At the age of almost eighty-five years she had never wed. Not for lack of interest or suitors, but simply for lack of anyone whofit into her life. And there was that strong-willed, independent nature.
I had wondered where mine came from. I didn’t need to look any further than my aunt.
