Page 53

Electra could see them both clearly.

Shockingly, Wakefield reached up and pulled at his own hair. When he looked toward Violet, Electra noted his flushed skin, the tear streaks on his face. All at once, he stopped and darted toward Violet, reaching for her. Violet lifted her hands, as if to cover her face. She was crying too, but Wakefield grasped her hands as he pleaded and sobbed. He stopped only to remove his spectacles and swipe at his eyes.

“Please,” he seemed to be saying. “Please. Believe me. Please.”

Violet pushed him and turned away. Wakefield was on her, spun her around to face him, then dropped to his knees. Pleading, reaching for her skirts. She put a hand in his hair.

He rose to his feet and took her into his arms.

Electra’s heart raced as the images fled, her breath coming fast.

She opened her eyes to see Violet Delacourt staring at her. Eyes wide with fear, uncertainty.

“Did you see her? Did you see my sister?”

“No.”

“You saw something,” Violet insisted. “I watched your reactions.”

“I saw you and Dr. Wakefield. He was quite distressed and pleading with you.”

Violet scoffed, raising her eyes to the sky. “We have little spats sometimes. He can become quite upset. But that is all you saw? Nothing of my sister?”

“I’m sorry.” And Electra truly did feel regret because nearly another full day had passed, and they were no closer to finding Iris.

Violet put her gloves back on, and Electra noticed her hands were trembling again.

“Did you hear what Tristan said during our argument?” She seemed very worried that Electra had.

“No, I usually don’t.” Electra eyed her, more curious now about the topic of their argument. “But it seemed he was pleading. Was that anything to do with your sister?”

“No.” Violet seemed firm on that point. “Simply a lovers’ tiff.”

Electra suspected it was anything but simple. “May I ask the topic?”

Violet snapped her gaze Electra’s way, wide-eyed. “I would prefer you did not.”

Yet Electra continued to watch Violet.

“Oh, I can’t even recall. We have been disagreeing while planning the wedding.” Violet gave her a weak smile, but there was only sadness in her eyes. “I was hoping you’d see something that would lead you to Iris.”

“As was I.”

Violet pressed her lips together, stared out at the park a moment, and then said quietly, “Shall we head back?”

They both got to their feet and said very little on the short walk back to Eaton Square.

When they entered the drawing room, Gideon was waiting for them, and he examined Electra, as if trying to discern how she was after the outing with Violet Delacourt.

“I’ll send that note we spoke of,” Violet told her. “But I won’t keep you any longer and wish you godspeed as you continue to investigate.”

With that, she left them alone.

Gideon immediately led Electra to the door, where Mrs. Jones helped them into their coats. Only once they were outside the Delacourt house did he turn to her.

“I found something odd in Iris’s room.” As he spoke, he drew an object out of his pocket, wrapped in his handkerchief. Electra took the covered item into her own gloved hands and peeled back the linen. It was a small book, almost identical to the one found in Calliope Collier’s pocket. It was a copy of Aeneid.

“There’s an inscription,” he said, as he gently took her arm. “Shall we go sit in the green for a moment and take a look?”