“I shouldn’t stay here,” Wilhelmina told Cynthia “It isn’t good for your reputation.”
Cynthia met her gaze with a serious look. “I think there are more important things than my reputation right now. Besides, it’s not as if I’m going to try and entice anyone other than Michael into marriage.”
Wilhelmina nodded. “See you in the morning then?”
“Yes, Mama.” Cynthia yawned. “Sleep well.”
Wilhelmina gave Cynthia’s hand a squeeze. She glanced at the clock on the dresser which showed it was almost eight o’clock, and followed Mrs. Rubins out into the hallway.
“Maybe I should prepare some food for you before I start fixing your room,” Mrs. Rubins suggested as they descended the stairs together. “You must be awfully hungry.”
Wilhelmina was rather, but there was a matter of greater importance she ought to attend to before she relaxed for the night. “Please prepare a plate and leave if for me in the dining room. I’ll eat when I return.”
“You’re going back out?”
“Yes. After what my daughter has told me just now, there’s someone I have to speak with.” She knew she could wait until morning, but the truth was she doubted she’d get much sleep until she’d confronted James. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
Donning her gloves and her bonnet, Wilhelmina stepped out into the dim evening light and started along the pavement at a brisk pace. It took no more than fifteen minutes for her to arrive at James’s front door where she gave the knocker a few firm raps.
“May I help you?” asked the butler who answered her call.
“I would like to speak with Mr. Dale.”
The butler frowned but refrained from commenting on the late hour. “I’m afraid he is out.”
Wilhelmina’s stomach dropped as the wind went out of her sails. A deflated feeling of disappointment assailed her but since she was here, she’d not be deterred. So she raised her chin. “Then I am happy to wait.”
The butler seemed to consider his options. He’d know who she was from her previous visit. Eventually, he stepped aside to grant her entrance. “You’d better come in then before someone sees you.”
Glad to have her bad reputation work to her advantage for once, Wilhelmina swept inside the townhouse where she came to a sudden halt. Piles of long metal pipes were stacked up against the stairs. She blinked. “What’s that for?”
“It’s not my place to discuss the goings on in this house with visitors,” the butler said. He held the parlor door open for her.
“Mr. Dale is creating a plumbing system, isn’t he?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Of course you would since I’m not sure how he’d go about it without your doing so.” She entered the parlor and turned to face the butler. “Has he built the pump yet?”
The edge of the butler’s mouth twitched. “Possibly. Shall I fetch some tea for you to enjoy while you wait?”
“Thank you,” Wilhelmina told him with a bright smile. “That would be welcome.”
He gave a stiff nod and departed. She surveyed the room. It looked no different than when she’d last been here, but now that she knew James better, it seemed more feminine than before. Exaggeratedly so and completely at odds with his personality. Perhaps a memorial to his wife? If that were the case she doubted it was for James’s sake. More likely, he’d left the space untouched so Michael could keep a connection with his mother. Another thoughtful and utterly selfless gesture, considering how much the woman had hurt James with her philandering.
Wilhelmina sighed and lowered herself to a sofa dressed in pink silk. Porcelain figurines littered every available surface – a nightmare for any maid tasked with dusting.
The tea arrived along with a plate filled with biscuits and a selection of cucumber sandwiches.
“Should you be hungry,” the butler said before he retreated once more.
Wilhelmina filled her cup and took a sip. Perfect. She ate one sandwich followed by another and turned to the mantelpiece clock. It was nearing nine thirty and while she wanted to wait forever in order to see James, she couldn’t. It wasn’t proper and—
It sounded as if the front door opened. She heard the butler speak and then…James’s voice reached her. A fluttery feeling caught hold of her stomach and travelled toward her heart. She set her teacup aside, smoothed out her skirts, and tried to stop from fidgeting. Holding her breath, she waited. She felt like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s sight, unsure of whether to stay still and hope he’d not see her, or run and hide.
The parlor door opened and there he was, as handsome as she remembered if not more so. He stared at her and she stared at him.
“Mina.” Her name, so softly spoken and without a hint of anger, unlocked her reserve.
