The man then turned over his chosen tile, a three-two combination. He nodded, conveying his understanding that Louisa had won the right to begin. She chose her seven tiles, waited while he did likewise, and the game commenced.
It soon became apparent that the man’s damaged brain worked well to a certain degree, since he never once faultedplacing his dominoes. Though he didn’t actually speak, he made odd little sounds as the game continued, usually when Louisa placed her tiles. It sounded, she thought, oddly like encouragement, as if he was praising her progress as one might praise a child.
“Who are you?” she asked. “What happened to you?”
But the answer, as expected, never came.
*
“Ah, here sheis,” Jane said, with obvious relief. “Quite safe.”
There had been few times in his life when Maxwell had actually been lost for words. In fact, at that precise moment, he couldn’t recall a single time when the search for a pertinent remark or observation had failed him.
It failed him now.
His absent wife, in all her summer finery, had not accidentally locked herself in the latrine. She had not lost her way or been overcome by heat and fainted in the hallway. Nor had she, thank God, been the victim of a less-than-pleasant encounter with a resident of St. Giles House. This latter scenario, of course, contradicted Charles’ assurance that none of the residents were dangerous. But the notion had danced on the periphery of Maxwell’s brain. And he hadn’t liked it one bit.
But no. It appeared Louisa had simply sat down to play a game of dominoes with a man. A complete stranger. And in that stranger’s bedroom. Alone. Not only that the man appeared to be in possession of all his extremities, though he was obviously slow-witted. Still, while undoubtedly done with good intentions, Louisa’s behavior was, nevertheless, totally imprudent.
Could she, just once perhaps, think before she acted?
“What are you doing, Louisa?” A rhetorical question asked before he could stop himself. He added to it. “You knew we were waiting for you.”
And I was worried, damn it.
“Yes, and I beg your pardon, Maxwell.” She threw him a brief glance before returning her attention to her pieces. “But I must also beg your understanding. I agreed to a game of dominoes with this nice gentleman. One game only, mind you. He asked me to play, and I simply couldn’t refuse.”
Jane gasped. “Heaskedyou to play?”
“Yes.” Louisa placed her domino and then looked at Jane. “Should I not have accepted?”
“Louisa, dear.” Jane shook her head. “You must be mistaken. Samuel doesn’t speak.”
“With respect, Jane, I can assure you he does.” Louisa regarded her opponent. “Samuel. Is that your name, sir?”
“I’m trying to understand why you would enter his room unaccompanied, Louisa,” Maxwell said, tamping down a blend of relief and annoyance. “You must surely see the wrong of it. What would prompt you to do such a thing?”
“She was in no danger, Maxwell, I assure you,” Jane said. “Samuel is a gentle soul. Quite harmless.”
“Perhaps so.” Maxwell ran a hand through his hair. “But he’s a man, a stranger, and Louisa is, or was, unchaperoned.”
“You don’t have to speak around me.” Louisa heaved a sigh. “I realize how it must seem to you, but there’s actually a very simple explanation. As I was passing Samuel’s door, I heard a clatter, and peeked in to see what had caused it. I saw that he’d dropped some of the dominoes on the floor, so I came in to help him retrieve them. Then, like I said, he asked me to play and something about his request touched my heart, especially when he shed a tear. I sincerely apologize for keeping you waiting, but I simply couldn’t refuse him.”
Jane frowned. “He shed a tear?”
“Yes. A couple of them, actually.” She pointed to the wet spot on the table. “There, see? The remains of a teardrop.”
“Forgive me, but I truly find this hard to believe.” Jane shook her head again. “Samuel has been with us since last Christmas, and he’s never spoken a word. Not a single one.”
“Well, he did today,” Louisa replied. “‘Play’, he said and repeated it twice more. He also said ‘gray’ a few times. I actually thought that was his name, but perhaps he’s getting ‘gray’ and ‘play’ confused.”
“Will you speak to me, Samuel?” Jane cocked her head and touched his shoulder. “Like you did to Louisa?”
He merely grunted and tapped a tile on the table.
“I believe he’s telling me to stop dawdling,” Louisa said, as she played her domino.
Somewhat appeased, Maxwell moved to her side. “I still say you should have fetched me before—oh, good Lord.” The sight of Samuel’s deformity momentarily stole his breath. “I didn’t realize.”
