“The talk will die down if nothing more is published. Bex, you could take your wife and travel the continent until things are better. How did you meet her, anyway?”
“An advertisement in your paper. Funny. The papers which are ruining me brought us together.”
“I wish it could do more to fix things. I saw how she went into that fire after you. She wanted to die with you that night if you wouldn’t leave. She truly loves you.”
Ester only had strength when she thought him in danger. Fear was no way to live. “She still reads the paper every day. Maybe I’ll place a new advertisement. Perhaps she’ll see it and forgive me.” He chuckled to keep from grousing on how hopeless everything was.
“If I found a love willing to die for me, I’d do anything to keep her.” Phineas went to the door. “This new story will publish in a couple of days. And I’m still looking into the fire. Warehouses don’t go up in flames like that. Arson or gross negligence will do it.”
Arthur, put a hand on the door. “Just spare the Croomes any more pain.”
“I’ll do what I can, but the cause has to be known. Bex, you are the one who called on me to do things that actually help.”
The man started to turn but stopped. “I went after you because of a perceived injury, but for what it’s worth, you were a hero at the warehouse and long ago on a boat and in the courtroom. At twelve, I can’t imagine the courage to stand up for what was right.”
“I still wonder, if I’d been a more courageous child at eight or ten and discovered that theZhonda’s cargo was men, could I have persuaded my uncle to take a different course.”
“Bex, you put too much on yourself, even over thirty.”
Staring at Ester’s sketchbook on his desk, Arthur shrugged. “We live in the real world, Phineas. I’m gunpowder, and I’ve burned up everything I’ve ever cared for. Travel may return perspective or humor.”
“But the fight, Bex?”
There wasn’t much left in Arthur. Heartbreak and leaving Ester that last time had extinguished much of his flame. “The cause won’t have me anymore, nor will any theater. Time and distance is a cure-all. Good evening, Mr. Phineas.”
Arthur closed the door. Soon London would see the whole story. Everyone would read it. Everyone including Ester, for she still loved newspapers. Maybe seeing the whole truth would move her.
He pried open his door and chased after Phineas. He did have one more advertisement to place. Maybe a woman as stubborn as himself would read it and regain faith in their future.
Chapter Twenty-Two
No Happy Birthday
Ester descended the grand stairs. Servants scurried about, readying for the party, but thoughts of her birthday made her head hurt. What type of celebration would it be with her heart in shreds?
Her birthday was two days away, but Mrs. Fitterwall had everything glistening, as if the party was starting within minutes. Remembering how Mama would cut a slice of her cake with Papa at her side made Ester miserable. If Bex-Bexeley hadn’t lied, he’d be there, holding her hand, maybe even making some sort of speech, so Papa could rest. He still couldn’t walk but a few feet before tiring.
A knock at the entry door brought Clancy from whatever hallway he’d been polishing to open it. “Mrs. Fitzwilliam-Cecil and Miss Burghley.”
What a joy it was to see Theodosia and Frederica. Ester needed them to rally her spirits. She almost jumped the final steps and met them in the hall. “Let’s go into Mama’s parlor.”
Trimmed in fine blue, Theodosia entered. Her steps were slow, and her bronze skin had a tinge of green. Odd.
Frederica, in a wonderful chocolate-brown cape, swept off the thing like it was a bad dance partner. Underneath, she wore a pretty peach-colored gown with large pearl buttons lining the front. A shawl like the one she’d given Ester would set her outfit off, but that one was at Bex’s residence, with her sketchbook and her heart.
She sighed, depriving her lonely chest of air. “Clancy, can you bring tea and biscuits?”
Theodosia patted her mouth. “Dry toast, if you don’t mind.”
Her friend looked very green, and not the envious kind. The women wandered into Mama’s parlor.
Frederica took a seat on the couch and dove into Mama’s pile of newspapers. The headlines—Arthur Bex in Hiding.Bex replaced as the lead inAntony and Cleopatra—were in full display. “Your mother loves her papers.” She frowned, “I’m very sorry my newspaper advertisement has cost you so much.”
To agree was to admit that all her time with Bex was horrid. Far from it. Things had been almost perfect when he was here. One night of not fretting. He’d been safe in her arms. She’d been loved in his. Maybe when he’d returned through yonder window, she should have forgiven him. “It wasn’t all bad.”
“Have you spoken with Bex?” Theodosia asked as she fanned herself with a foul paper.
“Yes. A week ago.” Ester closed her eyes and she remembered the look on his face, leaving through her window. “I…We…We couldn’t reconcile.”
