In spite of my self-doubts, I had grown accustomed to Brodie. The office seemed empty without him when it had never seemed so before.
When in the bloody hell had that happened?
However, I knew. It had begun on the Isle of Crete…
Since he was not here— where the devil was he anyway?— there was obviously no point building a fire at the stove.
Instead, I turned on the electric light at the desk, then went to the chalkboard and entered the most recent notes in the Bennett inquiry case, along with a note— in the event that Brodie returned— that I would next be contacting Dr. Pennington atOxford. Along with a mental reminder to inquire about a copy of Dr. Bennett’s book.
It would undoubtedly be dry reading, medical procedures and all that, however it might provide some insight into the man.
Having made my notes I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was very near five o’clock in the evening, a reminder that I had promised Lily that we would attend Templeton’s newest performance at Drury Lane in Covent Garden.
Curtain time was for eight o’clock. That gave me just enough time to return to Mayfair for a change of clothes, and perhaps an early supper with Lily.
I placed a call to Sussex Square. My sister eventually picked up the call. She was quite out of breath and laughing.
“Theater?” she echoed my invitation. “I would love to attend.” And my earlier plans were suddenly changed.
“And our aunt as well. We will meet you there,” she informed me. That was certainly quite different for my sister. She was inclined toward opera, the long, often boring, Italian sort. An evening at Drury Lane was most out of character for her.
It seemed that Mr. Warren would be joining us as well, which spoke volumes about what she insisted was a non-relationship. They were “merely friends” of course, though no one believed it for a moment considering her unexplained and frequent absences when not overseeing Lily’s artistic endeavors.
Most interesting, I thought. It was also an opportunity to inquire if Mr. Warren might be able to acquire a copy of Dr. Bennett’s book for me.
“That will give us sufficient time to clean ourselves of paint and dress,” Linnie continued.
It seemed that she had spent the afternoon assisting Lily with different mediums of art— oil paintings and watercolors as well.
“The solar has excellent light however the windows are quite covered with paint.”
I could only imagine how that might have happened.
“Lily really does have an amazing memory for things. She completely memorized all the prints in my old school portfolio and can readily describe the differences between Cézanne and Van Gogh and explain their techniques.”
There was more of course, as there usually was when it came to my sister’s passion for art.
“First curtain is at eight o’clock,” I reminded her.
“Will Mr. Brodie be joining us, as well?” she asked.
I returned to Mayfair to prepare for the evening at the theater. There was still no word from Brodie. Aggravating man.
“Will Mr. Brodie be joining you for an early supper and the theater?” Mrs. Ryan inquired.
“He’s off on some matter of business,” I replied, with absolutely no idea what that was.
I thought this was no way to begin this new part of our relationship, him off on his own, myself left to my own devices— which was quite a revelation since I had never before cared a fig how a man, any man, might conduct himself. And the same for me as well as I was not of the habit of explaining myself to anyone.
Hmmm. Most interesting.
“Very well, I will serve supper for yourself, then.” She turned toward the dining room and the adjacent kitchen.
“Not a way to start a marriage to my way of thinkin’.”
Never let it be said that Mrs. Ryan was shy about expressing an opinion.
After an early supper, I dressed with only a couple of remarks from her.
