Dr. Lewis nodded. “But they offered us little hope.”
“The next part of the story is mine,” Lady Aldridge said. “My sister-in-law and I went to Lizzie’s priest for advice. He suggested a Catholic home run by nuns for unmarried mothers. When we took her there, we made it clear to the Mother Superior that we would welcome Lizzie back after the birth of her child.”
“That was the last we saw of her,” Dr. Lewis said. “We were told she went to a home for girls in Ireland. That she’d given birth there and worked in a convent as a laundress.”
Lady Aldridge lifted her chin. “The Mother Superior rebuffed our request for more information because we were not Lizzie’s family. A letter to Bishop Griffiths in London produced a polite but firm refusal to answer our questions.”
“I had no idea,” Julia said. “I don’t even remember Lizzie.”
“My dear niece, you were not yet three years old.”
Tennant said, “I wish I could say that Lizzie’s ordeal was a case of abduction, plain and simple. But so long as the age of consent in Britain is twelve years old—”
“Monstrous.”
“I agree, Lady Aldridge. It becomes a war of accusations. A girl of twelve or older says she was taken by force. Her abductor claims she is a ‘fallen woman’ who came looking for work.”
“A child of twelve . . . Lord, forgive us our sins.” A brief silence followed Mr. Lloyd’s prayer.
“This has ended as a somber evening,” Dr. Lewis finally said. “As host, perhaps I should apologize.”
“My dear brother, we are two doctors, a missionary, a policeman, and I daresay Mrs. Davies has seen a thing or two in this world. Mister Lloyd, Richard, I thank you for your candor. Now, I am not so young as I was. I will say good night and borrow my niece to take me to my carriage.”
Julia smiled at her aunt and took her arm.
“My brother won’t admit he tires easily,” Mrs. Davies said, “so we’ll also say our good nights. Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“The music made it especially memorable,” Julia said. “Such a poignant song. Itisa gift to find oneself in the place just right.”
Mrs. Davies smiled. “It helped me in a time of indecision. I had to bow and bend for things to come ’round right. Isn’t that true, Owen?”
“Indeed,” Lloyd said, opening the door for Julia and his sister. “And if he were here, my brother-in-law would agree.”
When the door closed, Dr. Lewis asked, “One last drink, Richard? While we wait for Julia to return.”
Tennant shook his head and lifted his glass. “I’ll finish this and be on my way.”
“My boy, I mean no criticism of the police. We had very little to tell them about Lizzie’s ordeal.”
“Jin’s rescue is the rare happy ending.” Tennant drank the last of his whiskey and stood just as Julia returned.
“It’s late for hailing a cab, so I’ve asked Ogilvie to drive you home.”
“That was kind of you, sir.” Tennant lent his arm and helped Dr. Lewis to his feet and into the hallway. Julia and the inspector watched her grandfather climb slowly up the stairs. He waved good night from the landing.
Julia sighed. “I worry about him. But it’s a relief to have a fierce Scotswoman on the watch while I’m not here. I believe Mrs. Ogilvie was a hawk in another life.”
Julia took Tennant’s arm and headed toward the front door. “I enjoyed tonight. They’re an attractive pair, Mrs. Davies and her brother. I mean in every way. Good, kindly people who draw you to them.”
“I agree.”
“Mrs. Davies . . . I’d like to know her better.” Julia opened the front door and stopped. “Richard . . .”
He turned and looked at her. Her back was to the hall lamplight, and her face shadowed so that he couldn’t read the expression in her eyes.
“I was thinking about that song, ‘Simple Gifts.’ Do you ever think . . . do you wonder if it’s possible to . . .” She shook her head.
“I think and wonder all the time. Perhaps things are simpler than you believe.”
