“Yes, please.”
She vanished, only to announce, “Miss Paul, sir,” a moment later.
Zenobia Paul’s outdoor dress was as eccentric as he could have imagined, all bright, flowing shawls and somethingremarkably like an orange turban on her head. He was struck once again by the contrast between her fantastical appearance and her civil but down-to-earth manners.
“Mr. Grey,” she greeted him, holding out her hand. “Thank you for seeing me.”
He took her hand and bowed over it. “Please sit down. Hat will bring tea.”
“Oh, there is no need. I merely brought you the list of Terrence’s good friends that we spoke of previously.” She rummaged inside a large cloth bag that had blended with her shawls, and emerged with a slightly crumpled piece of paper, which she handed to him before she sat in the comfortable chair by the low table. “I have added addresses where I know them, and occupations to give you a clue. They are rather a motley collection of artists, writers, naturalists, even radical thinkers. Some of them are very old friends, from childhood, like me. I’ve marked those too. The people I’ve spoken to didn’t see him the night before he died, though.”
“Thank you,” Solomon said, accepting the list. “This could be just what we need. To be honest, we are struggling for direction in this case.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…Mr. St. John remains elusive to us. Everyone seemed to like him. Or, at least, no onedisliked him enough to murder him. We are beginning to think it was an accident, although the circumstances remain obscure.”
He cast his gaze over the list, while Hat brought in a tray and seemed unsure where to put it. He indicated the space in front of him without looking at her. “Here is fine.”
“Shall I pour, sir?”
Her anxiety finally penetrated his thoughts, and he glanced up at her with a quick smile. “No, we’ll manage. Thank you, Hat.”
The girl smiled with relief and hurried away.
“New staff?” Zenobia asked.
“Her first day with us.”
“You are a kind man,” she said with the odd abruptness he recalled from their previous meeting. “One can generally judge people quite accurately by how they treat their servants.”
“How did St. John treat his?”
“Like people.”
It was a telling phrase, and it struck a chord. Inequality was a fact of life, just or otherwise. But his early life among wealthy plantation owners, slaves, paid workers, rebels, and soldiers had taught him the importance of seeing the humanity in all, good and ill. This woman saw it too. Born into a privileged class, she must have battled for her independence in a man’s world and paid for it in many ways. She saw clearly, but there was no resentment in her.
Solomon poured the tea, politely offering milk and sugar before asking, “Did he ever dismiss servants?”
“I imagine that was his wife’s business, but he would not allow it if it was unjust.”
“I am thinking of the last month, when you said he was concerned about something. Did he confide anything about his servants to you?”
She thought about it. “Nothing bad.”
Solomon returned to the list, struggling to turn his instincts into words. “These people—including yourself—were whom hechoseas his friends, not those who were his mere neighbors or natural allies in the world he was born into. Free thinkers, freedoers, who don’t live according to custom but to their own views and whims. Was that what he truly wished to be? Was hecrushedby the conventionality of his public life?”
Color flooded her face, which he was at a loss to account for. Embarrassment? Shame, because she had inadvertently givenaway her friend’s confidences? For a moment, he wondered if she would bolt or just snatch the list of names back from him.
She did neither, merely reached for her teacup. “In a way, yes. But never think he did not love his family. He did. They were the world to him.”
“Andthisworld,” Solomon said slowly, with a flick of the list, “this was his escape?”
“Yes, I suppose it was.” But she wasn’t looking at him now. She was drinking tea, her shoulders tense.
“What are you not telling me?” he asked abruptly.
Surprise often worked, but she seemed to be ready for the accusation. She even looked and sounded faintly amused. “My dear sir, I am trying to help you discover what happened to my friend. I want you to succeed.”
