Elbert’s eyes flashed before he turned and stalked out of the tearoom without another word, every gaze in the room following his departure.
Mrs. Winthrop was standing beside Drusilla a second later. “Good heavens, Miss Merriweather, what in the world just transpired between you and Mr. Herrington?”
“There’s no need to fret, Mrs. Winthrop, as the matter was of little consequence.”
“The two of you were almost shouting at each other at one point.”
Drusilla nodded. “That is what happens when a man decides to end an engagement from out of the blue.”
“Mr. Herrington just ended your engagement—and in the middle of Rutherford’s tearoom?”
“Indeed.”
Mrs. Winthrop patted Drusilla on the shoulder. “I would think you’d find that a situation of great consequence, not little, but would you care to have me fetch you some smelling salts, dear? I don’t know if you realize this or not, but your tone is downright chipper, which given the circumstances, suggests you may be close to a state of hysterics.”
Drusilla grinned, earning a blink from Mrs. Winthrop in return. “There’s no need for smelling salts, Mrs. Winthrop. I assure you, I’m perfectly fine. In fact, I believe my life from this point forward is going to be far more pleasant than it ever would have been if I’d married a man I just discovered is a complete and utter bounder.”
Rising to her feet after giving her lips one last dab on the chance she’d smeared chocolate icing on them while she’d been devouring bite after bite of cake, Drusilla sent Mrs. Winthrop a nod. She then turned and, with her head held high, sailed out of the room and toward an unknown future, but one that would no longer find her married to a most disagreeable gentleman.
Four
CHICAGO
MAY1885
A shiver stole over Drusilla the moment she stepped from the hired hack and clapped eyes on a scene that seemed quite as if it had sprung directly out of a gothic novel—and one of the spookier gothic novels, at that.
Unlike the rustic lakeside cottage she and her sister had determined Aunt Ottilie had probably given them, rising up before her against a sky angry with billowing black clouds was an honest-to-goodness castle.
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be one of those fairy-tale kinds of castles where princesses lived. Instead, it was more along the lines of a fortress that would house an evil sorcerer, that thought only reinforced when she noticed an entire flock of ravens—something her sister had once told her was called anunkindness—perched on top of two turrets, their caws swirling about in the wind as they peered down at her.
If ravens weren’t bad enough, the castle also had an overabundance of gargoyles leering at her as well, the recent rain responsible for the water that was gushing out of their grotesque mouths.
“Think there’s a possibility the driver took a wrong turn off Lake Shore Drive and this isn’t our new home sweet home?”
Tearing her gaze from what appeared to be bats flittering in and out of what she believed was called a belfry, Drusilla turned and found her younger sister, Annaliese, climbing out of the hired hack, her eyes wide as she drew her traveling cloak tightly against her.
Her sister then smoothed a glove-covered hand over a ferret that was perched on her shoulder, one that went by the name of Pippin. Fortunately for Pippin, Annaliese had taken it upon herself to spirit the poor thing from a fur farm three months before, earning Pippin’s undying devotion, the ferret so attached to what it obviously considered its new mother that it took to chirping in a most distressing fashion if it lost sight of Annaliese for any extended period of time.
Drusilla moved to her sister’s side, ignored that Pippin immediately took to giving her the evil ferret eye, and took hold of Annaliese’s hand. “I’m sorry to say that I think we’re in the right place since that key Aunt Ottilie left with us opened that monstrosity of a wrought-iron gate we just drove through.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“Indeed.” Drusilla squared her shoulders. “Nevertheless, since it’s not as if we can turn around and traipse off to a less eerie house, we might as well head through the front door and hope the ghosts I’m relatively certain are floating about in there aren’t the malicious types.”
“You don’tactuallythink it’s haunted, do you?” Annaliese asked, glancing back to the castle and looking quite as if she expected ghosts to start wafting through the windows.
“I would love to say probably not, as I’ve never believed in ghosts, but given the way our luck has been of late, ghosts might very well turn out to be a problem. I hate to think what we’re going to discover in the dungeon.”
Annaliese shuddered. “We’ll probably find the skeletons that belong to the ghosts haunting the place.”
“An encouraging thought.” Drusilla returned her attention tothe ravens, who seemed to be returning her gaze. “I can’t help but wonder what in the world Aunt Ottilie was thinking when she purchased a place that resembles that unnerving academy for wayward girls Father was determined to ship you off to after your unfortunate bird of paradise incident.”
“Father threatened to send me to that wayward school after the roach incident, not the bird of paradise one,” Annaliese corrected. “To refresh your memory, young ladies of the Four Hundred were up in arms against me, and not for the first time, after that unusual-looking roach darted across the floor during one of the family circle dance classes.” Her lips curved. “How could I have possibly ignored the opportunity to scoop up the little darling and stash him in my reticule so I’d be able to study him once I was at my leisure?”
“I’m sure the ladies were expecting you to stomp on Xavier, not bring him home in your bag—or name him.”
“Roaches are far too fascinating creatures to stomp on.”
