“Nonsense! I’m sure Henry feels otherwise, as will most of the others here.”
Henry put his hand on my waist. “I tried to persuade her to remain at home with me this evening.”
The smile on Violet’s face did not waver, but confusion showed briefly in her eyes. “How selfish of you! I am glad you decided to share her.” Violet turned to Holmes, who had not taken his eyes off her. “It is good to see you, Mr. Holmes. I am glad you could come.” He nodded but said nothing. Violet put her lip between her teeth, and glanced about. “You must have some champagne or sherry. Both are available.”
A certain awkwardness had crept into her voice, and it surprised me. “Your dress is beautiful, my dear,” I said, “and those diamonds!”
She shrugged her bare shoulders. “I think a simple gold chain like yours is more flattering, but Donald insists the family jewels be flaunted.”
“Good Lord,” Holmes murmured. “Now there is a veritable fortune.”
We all turned and saw a sour-looking woman of middle age who wore an incredible necklace. Three of the diamonds were at least an inch across; red rubies and green emeralds surrounded them.
Violet let a ripple of laughter slip from her lips. “Yes, tonight Mrs. Herbert’s jewels eclipse all others. I fear the Wheelwright diamonds can hardly compete.”
“However, the situation is exactly opposite with regards to the wearers themselves,” Holmes said.
Holmes did not look at Violet as he said this, and it took her a second to catch his meaning. She caught at her lip again with her teeth and smiled. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Holmes.”
“It is no compliment, madam, only the simple truth.”
Dr. Dyson approached us with his wife. “I am happy to see, Dr. Doudet Vernier,” he began, “that you are taking good care of Mrs. Wheelwright. She appears fit enough. You also appear quite spectacular yourself. If our compatriots who still believe women have no business in medicine could see you now, you might charm them, Circe-like, into changing their minds. Of course, they are already swine.” While he spoke he maintained the gravest composure.
I seized his arm. “You are a rogue, but a charming one.”
His wife shook her head. She appeared slightly younger than he, just shy of sixty, but she had pure white hair. Her expression was as good-humored as his. “Pay him no attention. He’s always pestering someone.”
“Michelle, do you remember my wife, Margaret?”
“Of course,” I lied. “And you know Henry. And this is his cousin Sherlock Holmes.”
Dyson’s bushy gray eyebrows dived inward. “Good Lord—the consulting detective?”
Holmes’ mouth twitched into a brief smile. “None other.”
Mrs. Dyson’s eyes had grown very large. “I thought you were dead, Mr. Holmes.”
“A rumor only.”
Violet laughed. “Thank goodness! I shall not try to introduce you to everyone, but I fear I must at least present you to Donald’s parents. Would you excuse us briefly, Dr. Dyson?”
She started through the crowd, stopped briefly before a servant with a tray, and handed each of us a glass. “You must be properly fortified before meeting father Wheelwright.”
I took a quick sip. The champagne was cold, bubbly, and delicious.
Ahead of us was Donald Wheelwright, that head with the neatly trimmed brown hair and mustache, the thick neck and wary eyes, rising above all others. He wore the same black evening dress—white shirt and tie—as the other men, but the coat was enormous. I had only met him once or twice, always in passing, and somehow his sheer size had never struck me so forcibly as now. I had not seen him since Violet revealed her physical indifference toward him, and I wondered suddenly what he might be like if he were truly angry. Violet was so small and slight. Given his size and his strength, he might do whatever he wished with her. Despite the glitter of jewels and the extravagant chandeliers overhead, I felt a momentary chill. There was something about his eyes... I took a big swallow of champagne.
“What is it?” Henry whispered, his hand on my waist.
I slipped an arm about him. “Nothing. I’m only a little dizzy.” He stared at me, his eyes full of concern, and I thought again how much I loved him. We might occasionally quarrel, but never in all the time I had known him had I been afraid of him. He had always been so very gentle. I realized Violet was speaking.
“I believe you have all met my husband, Donald?”
I raised my head and nodded. You are being foolish, I told myself. Do not make him into a monster. Perhaps he is fond of Violet.
“And these are his parents, Mr. Donald Wheelwright, Senior and Mrs. Jane Wheelwright. This is Dr. Henry Vernier, his wife Dr. Michelle Doudet Vernier, and this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes.”
Old Wheelwright and his wife seemed shrunken alongside their son—hard to believe they could have conceived such a giant! His father was not even six feet tall, his wife a good foot shorter. The old man stooped slightly and was quite lean. The pink skin of his scalp showed between the thin strands of white hair; a few bristly hairs jutted forth from his large nostrils; and his blue eyes showed a hint of long-simmering anger. His coat appeared slightly wilted, and his white shirt had a faint yellow tint. His short, stout, matronly wife in her black dress reminded me of Queen Victoria, but in the brown eyes of her broad, somber face I saw the first resemblance to the son. Their eyes showed the same wariness.
Old Wheelwright managed a ferocious smile, his watery eyes fixed on my bosom. I wished I had my shawl to cover myself. “You’re the lady doctor my daughter-in-law is always talking about, eh? I’m not sure I approve of lady doctors.” Somehow he made “daughter-in-law” sound insulting.
I was annoyed and said the first thing that came to mind. “I’m not sure I approve of gentleman meat barons.”
He scowled at this, while his wife’s jaw slackened and dropped, then he laughed. “You don’t, do you? I like a woman with spirit, Doctor...” He glanced at Violet. “What was the name again?”
“Doudet Vernier,” I said.
“Why two names, tell me that?”
“Since my husband is also a physician, it becomes confusing otherwise. Hence, he is Dr. Vernier, I am Dr. Doudet Vernier.”
“I suppose there’s some sense in that.” His eyes drifted briefly downward as he again ogled my bosom. What a foul old man, I thought. “And this is the great Sherlock Holmes?”
Holmes stared coolly at him. “You may keep your superlatives in reserve. Few men of fame live up to their reputations, I find.”
Wheelwright’s brow furrowed. “My son has told me what he is paying you. I hope you are worth the price.”
“Father...” Donald Wheelwright began, but a sharp glance from the old man cut him off.
Violet kept her smile, but her cheeks reddened.
Holmes also colored slightly, his gray eyes icy. “‘Treat every man to his just deserts, and who shall escape whipping?’ The phrase may not be exact, but Hamlet said something similar.”
The old man gave a gruff laugh. “They do say you are the best, Mr. Holmes, and I am glad to have you working for us in this unfortunate business.” It was not quite an apology, but it was the best we might expect.
Holmes nodded brusquely, then turned to Mrs. Wheelwright. “And you, madam, what are your thoughts on this unfortunate business?”
She seemed dumbfounded that she had actually been addressed. “People should not go asking for trouble,” she said, “especially since the powers of the devil are strong.”
Her husband’s lip curled; he laughed sharply. “The virtuous need not fear the devil! I don’t believe in curses. The Lord knows, I’ve been cursed often enough, and yet here I am.”
Violet stepped between Henry and me and took our arms. “I must introduce them to some other people, then speak with Mrs. Lovejoy and the cook. Dinner will be served shortly.”
The elder Wheelwrights nodded. Henry stared intently at them, and then downed his champagne in a single swallow. “It is always a pleasure meeting one of the pillars of British nutrition. The picture on the tins does not do you justice.” He said this so gravely that only Sherlock and I would have known he was joking. The old man appeared puzzled, really seeing Henry for the first time.
“Come, my dear.” I drew him away. I could see that Violet was amused. “You will have us thrown out of the party,” I whispered.
