Harriet felt a jealous flame in her throat. The world seemed suddenly unjust in the extreme. Her words came spitting out, hot and angry as grapeshot. “Yes, and she can make up a dozen foul-smelling recipes from the Household Doctor!” She held onto the back of one of the armchairs hard enough to whiten her knuckles and showed her teeth in an unnatural smile. “She is a paragon of all virtues. I admit it. The community round Caveley declare it, just as they used to in my father’s parish, and now she is lauded here! Perhaps her virtues even exceed those of Miss Chase. Poor Verity, and just when she has persuaded her father to spend her marriage portion on buying the shop for you from the estate, but instead it seems so overwhelming are my sister’s attractions, you will be too busy cutting out Daniel Clode to make use of it. And as to Susan and Jonathan, where would they be now if it were not for my headstrong ways and Crowther’s knives you all shrink from so!”
She came to a sudden stop, looking at the pain flickering in his young, kind face, and in the silence that followed began to realize with a cold sort of horror what she had just said.
Graves spoke softly. “The children had other friends.” His hand traveled unconsciously to the right side of his waistcoat, as if the scar there he had received from a blade the previous year had woken and needed calming. He had defended the children. He had put his own flesh between them and danger. Harriet found herself dumb with sudden shame. She could admit she liked to think herself rather above her fellow creatures at times, but when Rachel was praised above her, when her own actions were condemned, she found herself behaving like a jealous child. If Stephen had spoken as she just had, she would have been ashamed of him.
Graves moved away from the fireplace and sat down heavily in one of the armchairs.
“I do not care what you do, Mrs. Westerman. I am well aware of the debt we owe you. But Susan and Jonathan both look up to you so much. You are a model to them. They must live in the world and learn to do so soberly and decently, despite their wealth, the history of their blood. I am trying to guide them. Yet you do these things. . Remember they look to you, that is all I ask.”
Harriet took a step toward him. “Graves, I am so very sorry!” He did not look at her. “And what I said about Rachel and Verity-it is such nonsense.” He twisted painfully in his chair. “I am weary, yet this business has lit up my brain and carries me forward.” Harriet sat down in the armchair alongside his own and put her head in her hands.
Graves looked at her with alarm. “Oh good Lord, Mrs. Westerman! You won’t cry, will you?” he said, sounding much younger again. “You can’t behave so abominably then take such a feminine way out. Unfair!”
Harriet gave a rather damp snort. “No, Graves, I promise you I shall not.” She looked up at him. “I am sorry though. It was wrong to take Susan, and I knew it the moment we arrived, but by then. . though I’m glad I did.” Graves opened his mouth to protest again. “No, truly! She was so wonderful with him, Graves. We would never have managed without her. And when she told that horrid Gaskin she would burn down his house if he destroyed anymore of Leacroft’s music. .”
Graves shook his head with a reluctant laugh. “Oh, she did, did she? I was only told she’d asked the man to send Leacroft’s music here. Of course, she told me about ‘C’e una rosa.’” He turned his head away and fell into a study of the fire. “She is a remarkable girl. I wish I had met her mother. In fact, it seems as if I am surrounded with remarkable women. Verity is planning on buying me out, is she? Giving me the chance to work for my living?”
“You work very hard for your living and your wards. No one thinks otherwise but you. Yes, I believe that is her plan. But I understand she doubts if you still hold her in the same regard.”
Graves smiled gently into the fire. “She is the only person in the world who could do so. Though I cannot ask her to be my wife under the circumstances, I think of her every moment.” Then he added, looking at Harriet with an eyebrow raised, “At least, when I am not trying to save the children from your pernicious influence.”
Harriet let herself smile and placed a hand on his sleeve. Graves nodded to the clock on the mantelpiece. “You should go and dress, Mrs. Westerman. And Stephen made me promise to ask you to come and kiss him good night before you leave. I think he wishes to see his mama in her finery. And he has something to ask you. He has thought about it quite carefully, so I would ask that you listen.”
Harriet rose. “Thank you, Graves. You are a better friend than I deserve.”
“No, Mrs. Westerman. Rather the world does not deserve you. But here you are, you and your dashings, and Mr. Crowther and his knives, and we must learn how to make best use of you. Enjoy the performance. You will not see a better opera in London for five years.”
She left and made her way slowly up to her own chamber.
6
Harriet, Rachel and Crowther were to have the use of Mrs. Service’s box at the opera that night, and Mr. Crumley was provided with papers for the pit. Harriet was a little surprised to find that the coach did not make its way directly to Hay Market, but matters became clear when she realized they were turning into Sutton Street. The carriage paused and Miss Verity Chase was handed into it by one of her father’s servants. Harriet was very pleased to see her. The strained nature of the understanding between this lady and Owen Graves meant that her visits to Berkeley Square to see the children were fleeting, hurried and only to be undertaken when Graves was sure to be away from the house. Mrs. Service took the children to Sutton Street whenever their entreaties reached a fever pitch, but she was unsure if she should be encouraging the bond between the children and Verity to continue to flower, and the visits made her uncomfortable.
Rachel patted Miss Chase’s hand and smiled reassuringly at her. Verity seemed more comfortable at once and began to ask them about Fitzraven and their investigations to date. Harriet and Crowther were happy to tell her what they could without repeating Mr. Palmer’s concerns. Miss Chase was a practical and intelligent woman and her remarks were always to the point, and worth attending to. She was quite as beautiful as Rachel, but had a little less of her yielding femininity. Her nature and humor was rather more dry and exact. For all that she had been raised as a gentlewoman, Harriet could see something of her father, the man of business in her, and admired her for it.
“So Miss Marin discovered yesterday what you did this morning. Do you know if she has spoken to Mr. Bywater? Surely that would be her first thought if she felt for him as Carmichael and Manzerotti suggested. Her distress must have been extreme.”
Harriet was a little shocked. “I had not thought of it till now, Miss Chase. She was certainly distressed by something when I spoke to her last evening.”
Crowther frowned. “Did not Carmichael say she left the party as soon as her portion of his little entertainment was complete?”
Harriet nodded and looked at the elegant reticule she held on her lap. It was a pretty thing, but not practical. “He did. We must speak to Bywater ourselves tonight, Crowther, and challenge him. Do you think if he murdered Mr. Fitzraven he will confess it now?”
Out of the corner of her eye Harriet noticed Rachel shiver a little at the word “murder.” Miss Chase merely watched their discussion with calm interest.
“Possibly. I’ve already told you his behavior seemed to betray guilt of some sort. Though it is just as likely that he was nervous his plagiarism was about to be exposed. He had no great difficulty finding Leacroft. We must assume he realized we would not find it impossible ourselves.”