Edward smiled indulgently. He had always found Emily the easiest of his daughters, without being aware that it was largely because she was also the most skilled at judging his moods and masking her own feelings accordingly. Sarah had been too impatient and, being the eldest and the prettiest, a little selfish, and Charlotte was far too blunt and would talk about totally unsuitable things, which embarrassed him.
“George is a fortunate man, my dear,” he said, helping himself to more vegetables. “I hope he appreciates it.”
“I hope so too.” Emily’s face suddenly became serious. “It is one of the saddest things that can happen to a woman, Papa, for her husband to lose his regard for her, his desire for her company, his general observance of her well-being. You have no idea how many women I have seen begin to look elsewhere for admiration because their husbands have grown to ignore them.”
“To look elsewhere?” He was a little startled. “Really, Emily, I hope you do not mean what that sounds like? I would not care to think of you associating with such women. Others might think the same of you!”
“I should dislike that very much.” She was perfectly grave. “I have never given George the least cause for displeasure with my conduct, especially on that subject.” She opened her eyes very wide and blue. “And yet, on the other hand, I cannot find it in my heart entirely to blame a woman whose husband has begun to treat her with indifference, if some other man, with pleasant manners and agreeable nature, should find her attractive and tell her so—and she should, in her loneliness, be equally drawn to him—”
“Emily!” Now he was shocked. “Are you condoning adultery? Because that is unfortunately close to what it sounds like!”
“Oh, certainly not!” she said with feeling. “Such a thing will always be wrong. But there are some situations when I cannot find it in me to say that I do not understand.” She smiled at him. “Take Monsieur Alaric, the Frenchman, for instance. Such a handsome man, so beautifully mannered, and such an air about him. Do you not agree, Charlotte? I wondered once or twice if perhaps poor Mina was in love with him and not Tormod Lagarde at all. Monsieur Alaric has so much more maturity, don’t you think? Even a touch of mystery about him, which is most compelling. I have often wondered if he is really French. We have only assumed it. Now if Alston Spencer-Brown had been devoting too much of his attention to his business affairs, and had begun to grow so accustomed to Mina that he seldom paid her a compliment anymore, or bothered with any little romantic gestures, such as flowers, or a visit to the theater”—she drew breath—“then Monsieur Alaric would only have to flatter her a little, exhibit the merest admiration, and she would be enchanted with him. He would be the answer to all her unhappiness and her feeling of no longer mattering.”
“That is no excuse—” he began, but his face was noticeably paler and he had forgotten the chicken. “And you should not speculate about people in such a disgraceful way, Emily! The poor woman is dead and quite unable to defend herself!”
Emily was unperturbed. “I am not suggesting it as an excuse, Papa. One does not need excuses—only reasons.” She finished the last of her meal and set down her knife and fork. “Now that poor Mina is dead, I have observed that Monsieur Alaric has found Mama most pleasant and has sought her company to walk with and to talk with.” She smiled brightly. “Which shows him to be a man of improving taste! Indeed, Charlotte has said he seems most sympathetic. I do believe Charlotte was quite drawn to him herself.”
Charlotte looked across the table at Emily with less than affection. There seemed to be a shade of malicious pleasure in her tone.
“Charming,” she agreed, avoiding her father’s eye. “But I presume that Mama is not in Mrs. Spencer-Brown’s unfortunate situation?”
Edward stared from one to the other of them. Twice he opened his mouth to demand that they speak more clearly what they meant. And twice he decided he did not wish to know.
The maid came and cleared away the dishes and then brought in the pudding.
“It has been some time since we went to the theater,” Edward remarked at last, very casually, as if it were a totally new thought. “There must be something new of Gilbert and Sullivan out now. Perhaps we should go and see it.”
“An excellent idea,” Emily answered, equally lightly. “I can recommend a good jeweler if you have a fancy to give Mama some small keepsake? He has a most romantic turn of mind and is not overly expensive. I know he has quite lovely cameos, because I wished George to buy me one. I always think they are so personal.”
“Don’t organize me, Emily!”
“I’m sorry, Papa.” She smiled at him charmingly. “It was only a suggestion. I am sure you will do much better yourself.”
“Thank you.” He looked at her with dry humor, but his hands were still tight on his napkin and he sat very upright in his chair.
Emily took a little more pudding.
“This is delicious, Papa,” she said sweetly. “It was so nice of you to invite us.”
Edward forbore commenting that she had invited herself.
At half past two Edward returned to the city.
“What are you going to do about Mina?” Emily asked as soon as she and Charlotte were alone. “We still have no idea who killed her, or even why.”
“Well, the obvious reason is that she snooped once too often,” Charlotte answered.
“I had imagined that for myself!” Emily was a little waspish now that the tension of the interview with Edward was over. “But upon whom?”
“It could have been the Charringtons—if not over Ottilie, then maybe over Ambrosine taking things.” Charlotte was thinking aloud. “But personally I think Theodora von Schenck is more likely. I can remember Mina making remarks about her income and where it came from. I think maybe she already knew, and she was having fun stirring up our suspicions. Perhaps in time she would even have told us.” Her face darkened as the ugliness of the reality opened up in front of her. “That’s pathetic, isn’t it—seeking to impress people and make yourself interesting by spreading pieces of gossip about people, hinting that you know terrible secrets.”
“It’s damnably dangerous!” Emily’s mouth pulled into a hard, unforgiving line. “Think of the harm she could do to other people, never mind what happened to her! I suppose she hardly deserved to be killed for it, but it’s a
