Mungo got out his handkerchief and moved closer. “Here.” He handed it to her.
She took it, pressing her face into it.
“All died from the same cause, didn’t they, Miss Downing?” Alex asked gently.
She nodded. “A house fire. No one was charged, but I know it was them. Black Harridan’s Boys. In their eyes, it was retribution for what my father did.” The words came out flat and emotionless.
“Your family wants you to know they are together,” Alex said.
“Henry,” she whispered.
“Was your brother a cheeky young man, Miss Downing? The way he’s talking to me suggests that is the case.”
“He was seven years younger than me, and yes, he was spoiled and cheeky.” She was winding his handkerchief round her fingers as she spoke.
“I’m so very sorry for your loss, Miss Downing,” Bram said from behind her.
Unlike Mungo, he was good at offering sympathy. It was genuine and came from his big heart.
“Thank you.”
Alex rose and looked at Mungo, and then Calder.
“It’s quite busy inside my head at the moment. Your grandfather is here, along with another man. This one has a stern demeanor, and I’m sensing his death was related to his heart.”
“Our father died of heart failure,” Calder said.
Alex nodded. “Right, let me see if I can make some sense out of all this, and what it has to do with Fenella’s disappearance.”
“I think we need to find out more about this Polly Watts,” Gray said. “To do that, we need to visit the tea shop and see if anyone from the Holton agency is present and knows her.”
“Surely it’s a long shot anyone would be there now?” Mungo said.
“It’s Thursday,” Eliza said suddenly. “That is one of the days they meet if they have that night off.”
“Do you think you can take us there, Miss Downing?” Gray asked.
She nodded.
“We shall have to see if anyone there knows Polly Watts. But right now, we shall take our tea,” Bram said.
Eliza Downing had lost her entire family in a fire. Mungo couldn’t imagine the torment she’d suffered. The hell that had plagued her for many years and likely still did.
He didn’t want to feel sorry for her. He wanted to have a reason to put distance between them. He wanted to stop thinking about what she made him feel, and yet now, all he could think about was the life she’d lived after losing everyone she’d loved, because unlike Mungo, who had walked away from his family… Eliza hadn’t had a choice.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Excuse me.” Eliza rose as Alexander Nightingale retreated back to his chair after having scraped open the deep wound inside her. A wound she’d patched as best she could. “I will be back shortly.”
They didn’t stop her, just followed her with their eyes, pitying looks on their faces.
Once she was outside the room, she hurried to the stairs and climbed, desperate to reach solitude and give way to what welled inside her. Everything she hadn’t wanted to let out in that room with everyone watching her.
Thankfully, Eliza ran into no one and soon reached her door. After closing it behind her, she moved on stiff legs to the bed and collapsed onto the edge. She tore off her gloves, then clutched Mungo’s handkerchief once more.
“Henry.” The name came out a moan. Tears ran down Eliza’s face as she fell apart. Something she’d not allowed herself to do for many years.
Alexander Nightingale had said her family were together, and that thought gave her peace as nothing else ever had.
