“We’ve met out in London many times. I’m a great fan of his books,” he added, then turned to me. “You must tell meallabout his writing process.”
“I don’t know much about that. I only did some typing for him.”
He had come to Corfu exhausted and barely able to work properly, thanks to the endless swirl of gossip surrounding his recent divorce. Though we got off on the wrong foot, I soon felt a kind of sympathy for him. And then, something more. But the man I had met then bore little resemblance to the one before me now, who apparently swanned about London until all hours and in all sorts of company.
Just as Charles began to respond, Mr. Dorian called over to us: “You said you’re in Portman Square?”
“Yes,” Delia replied before giving the house number.
The coachman nodded and climbed up onto his seat, while Mr. Dorian opened the door for us. Charles helped Delia inside, and when it was my turn, Mr. Dorian stuck his hand out. I stared at his gloved palm for a moment, then looked up. He was watching me closely, with a look of challenge I recognized all too well.
I narrowed my eyes and put my hand in his. “Thank you,” I said primly as he helped me inside.
“Oh, but the pleasure isallmine, Mrs. Harper,” he replied in a mocking tone.
I rolled my eyes as I took the seat beside Delia. Mr. Dorian was clearly in one of his moods. Hopefully, his companion was prepared. Charles then exchanged a few words with Mr. Dorian before climbing in after me.
“Thank you again, Mr. Dorian,” Delia said a little breathlessly. “You must come and visit us very soon.”
Somehow I resisted the urge to nudge her with my elbow—not that the man would take her up on the offer, of course. But then Mr. Dorian caught my gaze as he answered her: “Yes. I think I will.” Then he shut the door just as I began to scowl.
Charles and Delia chatted away as the carriage took us back to Portman Square, but I confess I barely heard a word. I was far too distracted by my thoughts. Thoughts that, I will admit, mostly revolved around Mr. Dorian.
He couldn’t possibly mean to come visit us. No, he had only said that to needle me, which he found endlessly amusing for some reason. When the carriage turned onto my parents’ street, the full weight of the evening descended upon me, and my eyes grew heavy. I reallywasquite tired. That had not been a lie to avoid Mr. Dorian’s company.
“Here we are,” Delia said as the carriage came to a stop. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Charlie.”
“An evening spent in your company can be nothing but lovely,” he replied with an earnest look before turning to me. “It was very nice to meet you, Minnie. I hope we can all have a night out again while you are here.”
“I am not sure I have the stamina for another late night,” I said with a smile. “But yes, I hope we will meet again soon.”
Charles then climbed out of the carriage and handed medown. As I waited on the pavement, I noticed he and Delia exchange a few quiet words before she joined me. My sister’s cheeks were flushed, though I couldn’t say whether that was from the cold or something she had said. I shot her a questioning look, but she only gave me a bright smile.
“Good night, ladies,” Charles called to us with a wave. “Sleep well!” Then he climbed back into the carriage, and we ascended the front steps of the town house. The footman opened the door, and as he took our coats, the grandfather clock in the entryway chimed the hour. It was one o’clock in the morning. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth and failed to stifle a yawn.
“Come on. To bed with you,” Delia said, as she looped her arm through mine and led me up the staircase. “Mother had your old room made up.”
“Did she?” I was much too tired to properly ruminate on this, as I had assumed I would stay in one of the guest rooms kept perpetually at the ready for such a purpose.
“You needn’t sound so shocked. You must know how thrilled she is that you’ve finally come home.”
Normally, I was able to contain my sarcasm, but a hearty snort slipped out. “Ourmother thrilled? I think not.”
Delia turned to me with a weary smile. “You would be surprised. Here we are,” she added as we reached my door. She pushed it open and entered, while I lingered in the doorway for a moment. A small fire glowed in the hearth, and the coverlet on my old canopy bed was turned down, ready and waiting for me. The familiar scent of dried rose petals tickled my nose, and I inhaled. It smelled like home. Like childhood. I blinked rapidly and stepped into the room. Delia helped me unbutton the dress and loosened the corset.
“Shall I do the same for you?” I asked as I stepped out of the gown, but she shook her head.
“No need. I manage quite well on my own. Here,” she saidbriskly as she picked up a nightgown that had been laid out on the bed. “Get some sleep. I will see you in the morning.”
She was acting a bit odd, but the need to sleep was pressing down on me so heavily that it was difficult to think clearly. “All right,” I relented and took the nightgown.
Delia moved to the door as I finished unlacing the corset. Then she paused and looked back. “Mother isn’t the only one who is thrilled you’ve returned,” she said quietly.
I tilted my head and smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Delia smiled back, then slipped from the room. Finally alone, I let out a sigh and finished preparing for bed. Then I climbed onto the mattress and pulled the covers over me. My head had barely touched the pillow before I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
It felt as though I had only just closed my eyes when someone began shaking my shoulder. Hard.
