I cleared my throat and managed a quick nod just as Tommy returned with his pile of biscuits. I halfheartedly told him to share with his sister, which he did with some reluctance. When he then offered me his plate, I shook my head.
“No thank you, darling,” I said. For I had lost my appetite.
Visiting hours ended a short while later, and I pulled Cleo into a fierce hug until she tapped my shoulder.
“Mama, I have to go,” she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder.
I immediately released her. “Right. Sorry.”
“But I will see you next week.”
“Yes,” I said with a firm nod, hating the uncertainty in her gaze.
The image stayed with me as we left the school grounds and walked to a main road, as I flagged down a hansom cab, and all through the long ride back to Hyde Park Street.
Thankfully, Tommy didn’t seem to notice my distraction, as he was preoccupied with a recently published book on dinosaurs that Cleo had lent him from her school’s library. One thing I appreciated about her school was that the curriculum was rigorous and well-rounded. The students studied mathematics and science alongside more traditionally feminine pursuits like horticulture and music.
When we finally reached home, I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. I wanted nothing more than to take a long, hot soak in my aunt’s exquisite marble bathtub. But as we entered the house, Mrs. Ford greeted me with a knowing smile, and I knew it was not to be.
“You have a visitor, Mrs. Harper. The Baron Linden is in the parlor.”
I frowned in surprise just as Tommy shot me an accusing look. “You know a baron?”
“A little, yes,” I admitted. “Though I can’t imagine why he has come here.”
Or how he knew where to find me. Then my stomach sank. He must have gone to Portman Square first. I highly doubted Delia was receiving guests, so the only other person he could have spoken to was my mother. And if that was the case, I would never hear the end of it.
“Thank you, Mrs. Ford. Would you send in a pot of tea?” I asked as I helped Tommy out of his coat.
“Certainly,” she said with a nod. Then she turned to Tommy. “Would you like to assist me?”
Tommy’s eyes lit up, and I shot her a grateful look. Someday the allure of helping an adult with mundane tasks wouldlose its thrill for my son, but thankfully that day had not yet arrived.
As I walked down the hall to the parlor, my mind riffled through all the possible reasons for the baron’s visit. If it had merely been to pay his respects after the funeral, leaving his card would have sufficed. No. If he had bothered to then come here, it meant there was something specific he wanted to speak to me about. Given how I had been spending my time as of late, I felt wary. Did the baron somehow know that I had undertaken an investigation into Charles Pearson’s murder? And if so, how would he react? Would he be angry or intrigued? I didn’t know him well enough to even guess.
I pushed open the parlor door and found him standing before the hearth with his back to me. He turned at my entrance, and I was surprised by the uncertainty in his gaze.
“Mrs. Harper, hello.” He came to me at once, and I barely had time to greet him myself before he took my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles.
“Hello. I hope you haven’t been waiting long?”
“It’s no matter,” he demurred as he straightened and gazed at me rather intently.
“I must admit, this is quite a surprise,” I said, as I took a seat and gestured for him to do the same.
He ducked his head in a surprising display of contrition as he sat down across from me. “I know. I went to your parents’ home first, and your mother was kind enough to give me your aunt’s address. I hope I haven’t imposed?”
“Not at all,” I said with a tight smile. My mother was probably planning our wedding at this very moment. She would be sorely disappointed.
The baron managed a weak smile of his own before his gaze turned serious. “Forgive me for speaking rather plainly, but I’ve come here on a matter of some urgency.”
My stomach turned as I suspected the worst. “Is thisabout Delia? I’m so sorry if her presence at the funeral was a distraction—”
But the baron frowned and shook his head. “I didn’t even know she was there.” I let out a short breath of relief. Then Mr. Dorian and I had acted quickly enough to keep her swoon out of view. “No. This concerns … you,” he continued.
My eyes widened. Then hedidknow about the investigation. “Oh?” I squeaked.
The baron shifted in his chair and looked rather uncomfortable. “How well do you know Mr. Dorian?”
