—”
“Did you know, Mother, that Mr. Sanburne did not actually die of influenza?”
“What can you possibly mean by that? Of course he did. It was in all the newspapers.”
“He committed suicide in Vienna. It was in all the papers there.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m absolutely certain. Have even confirmed it with Sir Julian Knowles.” As I spoke, I saw in her eyes an admiration that had never before been directed to me. But then I’d never before given her such stunning gossip.
“Did I tell you that your father and I have been invited to Sandringham for Prince Eddy’s birthday dinner next week?” she asked. “Perhaps I could ask the queen if the invitation might be extended to include you.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose. Particularly when she’s been so gracious about the wedding.”
“Oh, I suppose you’re right. Now, have your servants prepare a room for me. I may as well spend a few days with you before I return to the country.”
Chapter 24
I tried to persuade my mother that she would be much happier back in Kent with my father, opening her own house in Grosvenor Square, visiting my late husband’s family, being anywhere but Berkeley Square—but she would not be swayed, and in fact left me in mid-sentence to ensconce herself in one of my bedrooms.
I could not leave my friends to wake up unsuspecting and find her with us, so I knocked on Cécile’s door to warn her of the addition to our party. I was greeted by enthusiastic barks from Caesar and Brutus, who were vying with each other for prime position to attack my skirt from the moment I stepped into the room. I scooped them both up and dropped them on Cécile’s bed.
“Your pets are the most ill-mannered I’ve ever known.”
“They are terrible little things, aren’t they?” She scratched Caesar’s head and patted Brutus.
“I’d wager Friedrich and Anna will be married before next Christmas,” I said, handing her the letter from our friend.
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“I feel for the poor man.”
“Don’t. I can assure you that I am attractive to him only because there’s no chance I’ll try to force him to marry me.” Brutus sniffed at my hand, and I scratched his ears. “Here are your letters. One looks to be from Klimt.”
“How odd. I shouldn’t have thought he would write. But then, we weren’t able to have a formal farewell.”
“Will you see him again?”
“Perhaps. Does it matter?”
“I would hope so.”
“I must admit it does.” She smiled, but said nothing further.
“On a wholly unrelated topic, I’ve come to warn you. My mother is here, and I’m abandoning you to her.”
“Ah! She is always entertaining.”
“You’ll find yourself exhausted within twenty minutes of sitting down with her.”
“So why are you leaving me alone with her?” she asked.
I told her about Albert Sanburne and Helen Macinnis. “I’ve got to speak to her father.”
“You know where to find him?”
“Davis sent a footman to his house this morning. The family is not in residence, but Mr. Macinnis is in town, staying at his club.” I sat on the edge of her bed. “And while I’m on the subject of Davis, you’d best give Odette the afternoon off.”
“Because I’ve directed Davis to give her a tour of London.”
“Must you encourage them, Kallista? Nothing good can ever come of it.”
“Not for us, maybe, but certainly for them.”
I had no intention of showing up unannounced at the Carlton Club. Instead, I’d sent a note to Mr. Macinnis and had the boy who delivered it wait for a reply. He agreed to meet me at the British Museum at eleven o’clock. No sooner had I stepped inside the magnificent building on Great Russell Street than a sense of calm melted through me. The familiar galleries welcomed me, and as always, I felt a mythic enchantment at finding myself surrounded by so much history.
Mr. Macinnis was waiting for me in front of the Judgment of Paris vase my husband had donated to the museum shortly before his death. I’d suggested this location because the Rosetta Stone seemed too obvious.
“I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to see me,” I said, giving him my hand as he approached me.
He bowed and kissed my hand. “Your note took me by surprise. Sanburne’s name is not one I’d hoped to hear again.”
“I can well imagine, and I apologize for dredging it up. I must start by saying that I know all about the scandal in which he was involved. Please don’t feel any need to protect me from unsavory information. I’m here
