Mrs. Ryan provided hot cocoa; another wondrous thing Lily knew about but had never experienced.
“Ice cream and hot chocolate all in one evening?” Mrs. Ryan commented as I poured a bit of Old Lodge whisky.
“You’ll spoil the child.”
I smiled. “I certainly hope so.”
Two cups of hot cocoa and the “child” was quite drowsy. I accompanied her upstairs to the guest bedroom.
“Thank ye kindly, miss,” she said around a yawn. “I ain’t never had nothin’ like tonight.”
We hadn’t quite worked out what she was supposed to call me.Motherseemed inappropriate since I was very definitely nother mother.Miss Forsythewas too formal as if the arrangement was only temporary. And I didn’t care forLady Forsythe.Again, it was far too formal and seemed to emphasize where I came from even though I had never cared a fig about titles… and had a way of putting distance between people as I knew only too well.
She slipped out of the gown, then unknotted her hair in front of the dressing table mirror. I caught the gesture as she ran her fingers over the brush that lay atop the dresser.
“I ain’t never had such fine things, miss— the clothes, this room, and this.” She ran her fingers across the soft bristles. “’Course there are the lessons, art, and music that Miss Lenore says every proper young girl should have.”
That did sound like my sister.
I picked the brush up and ran it through her hair, gently removing the twists and coils.
An old memory— which I rarely allowed— suddenly came back to me.
Our mother had died when Linnie and I were very young. After we went to live at Sussex Square there were maids and other servants, and most certainly our great-aunt to see to our needs. And there had been great affection as well.
Tonight I had taken on the part that our mother might have shared with us… brushing our hair, telling us stories, taking us for ice cream in a wafer cup after a play.
We hadn’t had that. I pushed the memory back where it belonged, in the past.
“Miss?”
I hadn’t realized that I had stopped brushing her hair. I caught Lily’s reflection in the mirror above the dressing table.
“I’ve been thinking,” I told her.
Brodie would certainly have made a comment at that, or perhaps narrowed that dark gaze as he was quite familiar with such words when I had an idea that I wanted to share.
“I have a name. It’s quite all right for you to use it. Now, off with you to bed. It’s very late.”
“Good night, miss…” she said sleepily from under the down comforter, then before drifting off, “Mikaela. It was a right splendid day, weren’t it?” There was a yawn that followed.
“Yes, it was.”
The only thing missing in all of this was Brodie.
Six
I receiveda message from Mr. Brimley in the morning. He had spoken with Dr. Pennington, who was currently providing a lecture series at the medical school at Oxford, regarding my inquiries into Dr. Bennett.
Dr. Pennington had provided valuable information in a previous inquiry case. Although his schedule was quite fractured, as he had put it, he would be more than pleased to meet with me if I was agreeable to come to Oxford.
I rose early to find Lily was already awake and downstairs, chatting away with Mrs. Ryan. In a short amount of time the two of them had become thick as thieves as the saying went.
Mrs. Ryan seemed particularly taken with Lily. I took that as a good sign as my friend Templeton would have said, after the horrible circumstances over the death of her daughter, Mary.
“Lily has been telling me all about the play at the Drury,” my housekeeper commented as I joined them. “And ice cream after? It’s a wonder the girl didn’t end up with a misery of the stomach.”
Lily merely grinned.
