It was Mrs. Hardy who finally spoke.
“A few years ago, our lives took a turn we could not have predicted. And for a time, things seemed very precarious and uncertain and we were frightened indeed. But as a result of these unpredictable events, we became dear friends. We decided to open a boardinghouse so that we could have the kind of home of which we’d always dreamed, surrounded by people we enjoy. And it’s a pleasure to make people feel safe and welcome and wanted, because we learned this is all nearly everybody really wants, really.”
“Oh,” Aurelie breathed. It was the nicest answer she could imagine.
There was a little silence. And then they exchanged another of those glances.
“We’ll just leave you a moment to finish your tea and have a look at our rules, Mrs. Gallagher, whilewe have a little chat. We won’t be more than a minute or so.”
“Well,” Angelique began, once they had crossed the foyer to the sitting room, where their hushed discussions about guests typically occurred.
“She seemsdarling...” Delilah continued cautiously.
“...but if she’s ‘Mrs. Gallagher, the widow of Thomas from Ireland,’ then Dot is Queen Charlotte.”
“Precisely,” Delilah agreed.
“She sits the way Gordon does when he’s very uncertain about something. Limbs tucked in, tail wrapped tightly around his toes.” Gordon was the fat striped cat who kept all the rodents at The Grand Palace on the Thames on the hop. “My impulse is, in fact, to gather her up like a kitten and put her in a basket. And yet Dot is right. There’s something regal about her. And it isn’t arrogance, per se. Just an air. She is mature for her age, and yet also rather young, I think.”
“She seems very French,” Angelique said firmly.
It was one of those intangible things. A singular sort of grace. The shrug of her shoulders? Her choice of words. A veneer of urbanity? The flutter of her hands. It was charming, and it wasn’t English.
“Perhaps she’s like Lucien, and she’s lived many places, and absorbed a little of the accent from each place, and fell in love with Mr. Gallagher in Ireland. Just like she said. It’s possible. Just look at all the improbable things that have happened in our lives, too,” Delilah added.
“Mmm. How old do you think she is?”
“Twenty? If that.”
“Very young to be a penniless widow, poor thing, if that is the case. At least the two of us were a triflemore jaded by the time we found ourselves destitute,” Angelique said.
If they tried, both could conjure that dizzying terror of those days after the collapse of their old way of life.
They preferred to marvel at the beauty of the one they’d created from its ruins.
“Perhaps it’s just nerves and being in a new place. Perhaps she’s simply trying to make a good impression. A good night’s sleep, a hearty meal, and a little kindness can go a long way to settling nerves.”
They looked across at Mrs. Gallagher, who had not yet leaned back against the settee. Her posture was flawless, as only the posture of a girl trained by a governess to walk with a book on her head could be.
It was Angelique who reluctantly gave voice to what they were both thinking.
“Do you think she might be trouble?”
They were both remembering the last time they gave the benefit of the doubt to the pair of women who were among their very first guests. They had wound up with a foyer teeming with grim-faced soldiers and had made some startling discoveries about some of the hidden features of their house. In the end—which had been torturous and dramatic and shocking and beautiful—Delilah had acquired a husband.
Admittedly, there were easier ways for a woman to get a husband.
Delilah would do it all again a thousand times for Tristan.
They’d learned a good deal since those early days of The Grand Palace on the Thames. Delilah had shed some of her naivete, and Angelique had shed some of her cynicism, and somewhere between them they’d arrived at a magical formula for contentment andsuccess here at The Grand Palace on the Thames, even if it wasn’t always entirely peaceful.
And they’dbothmanaged to find the world’s most perfect (for them) husbands. That made every day easier.
“I think she is too young and too well-bred to be the sort of trouble that will lead to a house full of soldiers,” Angelique posited. “And, well... we’ve no one occupying the suites at present. We could always use a new paying guest.”
“We could indeed use a paying guest,” Delilah agreed.
“I like our luck lately, Delilah. Mr. Bellingham will be arriving soon, too, and if Mr. Tweedy accepts the position, so will he. Won’t it be festive?”
