“Do not, I beg you, dress your cowardice in the cloth of compassion. You kept your silence because it was the simplest thing to do. You told Edward to abandon my bed and any hope of an heir, but you never once thought what it might cost me. For him to leave my bed on the grounds of mortal illness is a thing I could have borne. For him to have left it, leftmethinking it was because of my barrenness, was too cruel.”
“It might have cost you your life or your sanity if he had not!” Griggs returned hotly, his plump cheeks trembling with rage. “Would you have rather he kept at you, trying for a child that would surely have been diseased and infecting you in the process? For that is what would have happened, my lady. I see it was too much to think that you might appreciate my efforts on your behalf.”
We stared at each other a long moment, so far apart that we both knew the gulf could never be bridged. There was anger and bitterness and righteous indignation on both sides. Finally, I took a step backward, my hand on the doorknob.
“You may continue to treat Sir Simon until his death. After that, you will not come here again.”
He gave me a bow from the neck, coldly furious. His mouth worked, as if he wanted to say something, but resisted it. I stepped aside to let him pass. I did not want even my skirts to brush against him as he left Grey House.
After Griggs left, I sat for a long time in the dimly lit drawing room, thinking over everything I had learned that day, none of it pleasant, perhaps some of it useful. I had been dealt a number of blows, to my pride, my vanity, my smug sense that I knew those about me. I had been so secure in my certainty, and yet there had been secrets, swirling about me like fog-bound shadows the whole time, while I stumbled, blindly oblivious to it all.
But after a while I grew tired of feeling sorry for myself and I rose, intending to go and change for luncheon. At the door I collided with Desmond, his head down, looking neither right nor left. He collected himself with a shudder.
“My lady! I am so sorry—please, I was not attending.”
I brushed at the crease in my skirt. “It was nothing, Desmond. Do not trouble yourself. How is Sir Simon today? I thought to look in on him after luncheon.”
The comely face clouded a little. “Not well. Doctor Griggs was discouraged at his lack of appetite.”
“Well, I suppose that is to be expected.” I looked closely at Desmond. His own face seemed thinner to me, his eyes ringed with shadow. “Are you eating enough yourself? I daresay your rest is broken with caring for Sir Simon. Perhaps the task is too great for one person. We could engage a nurse.”
Desmond swallowed thickly. “No, my lady. I am quite well. The city air does not always agree with me.”
“Ah, yes. You are country-bred, I know. Well, we shall soon have you back in the countryside. I have spoken to his lordship and he is very happy to have you come and tend the dogs for him at Bellmont Abbey.”
Desmond bowed his head. “Thank you, my lady.”
“Are you certain you don’t mind the duties? Tending the kennel is a bit of a comedown from a footman’s lot. And you won’t have any livery to lord over the rest of the staff,” I said, smiling.
He smiled back, blushing a little. “I do not mind that, my lady. I am out of my livery now, and the more comfortable for it. I look forward to tending his lordship’s dogs. I think the country is where I belong.”
“Well, it is settled, then. When your duties here with Sir Simon are concluded, I will send you down to the Abbey.”
He looked distraught for a moment, doubtless thinking of the difficult days ahead as Simon’s life drew to a close. I moved on, leaving him to his errand, and went to luncheon, making a mental note to myself to make certain that Aquinas had raised Desmond’s pay. He was working himself to death for the Greys, and the poor boy should be compensated for it.
Luncheon was dull, or perhaps I was. I had no taste for the salmon and left the fish almost untouched on my plate, picking instead at my peas. Aquinas clucked softly as he removed my uneaten food, but did not scold. We talked briefly of Desmond and other household matters, but I had little interest in any of it. I was still quite overwhelmed by all that I had learned of Edward. I was thinking of Edward, in fact, when Aquinas brought my pudding, and something else.
“A list of supplies that Desmond has drawn up at Doctor Griggs’ direction, my lady. With your approval I shall dispatch Henry after luncheon to the chemist.”
He busied himself whisking crumbs from the tablecloth while I looked over the list. “It all seems in order, I suppose.” It was written in Desmond’s simple, painstaking hand, a holdover from his days at a village school, no doubt. His writing was plain and serviceable, meek even, nothing like Brisbane’s bold scrawl. But Brisbane’s hand would have left no margin at all, I thought with a smile, where Desmond’s had left him a good four inches for a bit of doodling. He had a fair drawing hand, but his subjects were a touch morbid—understandable, I supposed, given his current post in a dying man’s room. There was a tiny horse, plumed in funeral black, and a hideously accurate undertaker’s mute with large, sorrowful eyes. It must have taken tremendous skill to infuse the little drawing with such mournfulness, I thought, raising the paper to scrutinize it more carefully.
Aquinas set his mouth in disapproval. “I know, my lady. I already spoke to the lad about using house paper for his drawings. That is the trouble with country-bred servants. They none of them know the cost of things in town.”
“It isn’t that, Aquinas. Look at the figure of the mute. He’s obscuring something, but you can just see it, there.”
Aquinas bent swiftly, peering at the page.
He paled, as white as the table linen.
“It is a gravestone, my lady.”
I nodded. “Exactly like the one in the last note Edward received. I think I shall keep this, Aquinas.”
He came near to me. “My lady, I shall send for the police.”
“No!” I did not mean to thunder at him, but I think the silver rattled on the table. He stepped back sharply.
“As you wish, my lady.”
