A Death Along the River Fleet (23 page)

A few steps away, Susan Belasysse was staring at the amulet. Lucy, sipping her sherry, watched her. “Do you know something of the amulet, Mrs. Belasysse?” she asked her softly.

“Whatever do you mean?” Susan Belasysse replied, crossing her arms. “Why would I know anything about Octavia's amulet?”

The others turned to stare at them. “Oh!” Lucy replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “I thought Miss Belasysse might have acquired it at a London market—Covent Garden, perchance?—before she disappeared. There are some tradesmen in London who sell this sort of piece.”

Susan Belasysse gulped. “No, I remember no such thing.”

“I wonder what else you may not be remembering about my disappearance, Sister,” Octavia Belasysse replied, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“I am sure I do not know what you mean,” Susan replied.

Again Octavia smiled. “The amulet was filled with rosemary. I imagine that someone hoped to protect me from something, but I know not what. Perhaps I was kidnapped by fortune-tellers, and you have forgotten about that sad tale.” Her smile grew wider. “Or perchance a group of Catholics, lost on their pilgrimage, took me on their grand quest.”

“Octavia,” her mother said, a warning note in her voice. “Such untruths should not be said, even in jest.”

“Still, this amulet proves that
someone
cared for me,” Octavia replied, now holding her fingers before her, idly regarding her nails. She must have borrowed Mrs. Larimer's little nail scissors to make them less jagged. She looked back at Lady Belasysse. “Is that not so, Mother?”

Lady Belasysse did not respond.

Feeling the odd undercurrents in the room, Mrs. Larimer clapped her hands. “I shall summon the men now. It is high time we have our dinner.”

“I shall let Mrs. Hotchkiss know,” Lucy murmured to Mrs. Larimer, taking the opportunity to slip off to the kitchen. When she entered, she found everyone sitting around the table, with their tankards in front of them, the jug of wine opened. Duncan was evidently just finishing a humorous story, for Molly and Mrs. Hotchkiss were giggling. Hetty still looked dour, her hands wrapped defensively around her tankard as if fearful someone would take it from her.

Lucy leaned against the doorframe, watching them. She liked it when Duncan dropped his watchful reserve. Without his uniform, too, he seemed lighter in spirit than she had usually seen him. He looked up then, the smile still on his lips.

Molly and Mrs. Hotchkiss both stopped laughing when they saw her. Lucy felt a sudden chill come over the room.

“Yes,
miss
?” Mrs. Hotchkiss asked. “Is there something you need?”

Molly looked at her with an insolent lift of the brows.

“I am sorry to break up this merry scene,” Lucy said uncomfortably. Turning to the housekeeper, she added, “Mrs. Larimer is ready for you to start serving dinner now.”

Mrs. Hotchkiss nodded. “All right, Molly, let us start with the soup, then.”

The servants began to ladle soup into bowls, banging everything about far more than was necessary. Duncan caught Lucy's eye, then nodded his head meaningfully toward Hetty, who looked a bit sullen.

Sliding onto the bench next to Duncan so that she could face Hetty, Lucy said to the others brightly, “The ladies have been enjoying their sherry, and the men their claret.”

“Fa dee da!” Hetty said, taking a gulp of her wine. “Chase you out, did they?”

Mrs. Hotchkiss and Molly both tittered a bit, and Duncan shifted in his chair.

“Why, no,” Lucy said, fully sensing the unfriendly feeling in the room.

“Don't know why they gave
you
a place at the table,” Hetty said, her words already slurring a bit. “I have been tending to the Belasysse family for twenty years, and I have never been invited to dine with them. Not once!” Her obvious bitterness subdued the room. Then she snorted. “Spreading your legs for the master, are you?”

Lucy flushed deeply, but was gratified with the roar of outrage from both Duncan and Mrs. Hotchkiss at once.

The housekeeper batted the back of the woman's head. “No call for that kind of filth in here. No one will say a word against my master, especially not when dining at his table!”

Duncan stood up. “Nor shall you say such a thing about Lucy, whom I know to be of the most good and virtuous sort!” He was about to continue, but Lucy cut him off.

“No, Duncan,” Lucy said. She decided to ignore Hetty's ugly insinuation and respond with the truth. “It was Miss Belasysse who asked me to join the family at the dinner. Quite honestly, Mrs. Larimer was against it, but she went along with Miss Belasysse's request.” Hoping to smooth out the bad feelings in the room, she added, “Truth be told, I do not fit in there.”

Duncan still looked annoyed, but her honesty seemed to mollify the others.

“Do not worry, dear,” Mrs. Hotchkiss said. “You shall not be in that position much longer.”

“Octavia always was a bit willful,” Hetty conceded. Though she did not smile, the explanation seemed to help somewhat.

“What are they talking about?” Molly asked, a bit breathless to hear more of the gossip coming from the drawing room.

Her question gave Lucy the opening she needed. “They were quite intrigued with Miss Belasysse's beautiful amulet,” she explained, trying to sound as friendly and casual as she could. “They were wondering at what market she might have bought it.” Turning to Hetty, she asked, “Do you remember where Miss Belasysse got the amulet? It would have been before she disappeared, of course.”

The lady's maid, her cheeks a bit flushed from the wine, wiped her mouth. “She did not go to any markets,” she said. “Miss Octavia wanted to, but her uncle would not let her.”

“Why not?”

“I do not know. He was afraid of her wandering off, I think. Having a fit in public, with no one to help her. He would not let her out of his sight.”

“Do you think she was trying to get away, then?” Lucy asked.

“No, I never saw her go off alone. He was with her all the time.” She burped loudly. “Never saw the amulet either.”

Lucy and Duncan exchanged puzzled glances. “Maybe she kept it hidden,” Duncan said to Hetty.

At that, all the servants in the room, including Lucy, smiled. A noblewoman of Miss Octavia's sort could no more easily hide a trinket from her maid than she could hide a bear from its tamer. A lady's maid knows everything. This meant that Miss Belasysse must have gotten the amulet at a later point.

“You should return to your meal,” Duncan said. “Lest they wonder where you are.” Before she left, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, so that the others could not hear. “And remember, not a single one of
them
can measure up to you.”

 

18

When Lucy returned to the dining room, she was directed by Mrs. Larimer to her seat along with the others. To her credit, Mrs. Larimer was quite gracious, and gave no sense of discomfort over having a former chambermaid turned printer's apprentice at her dining table.

As Molly and Mrs. Hotchkiss began to bring out the first course, Dr. Larimer and his wife positioned themselves on either side of the long table. Two men and two women sat on either side, so that Lucy was between Master Hargrave and Mr. Boteler, with Mr. Sheridan in front of her.

To Lucy's disappointment, Adam was seated to Mrs. Larimer's right, and beside Octavia, with Susan Belasysse across from him. Master Hargrave and Lady Belasysse were seated on either side of Dr. Larimer.

Not sure what she should do or say, Lucy took a sip of the Rhenish wine that Molly had just poured, still thinking about the amulet. If what Hetty said was true, and it likely was, then Miss Belasysse had not acquired the amulet before her so-called death and disappearance. But judging by Miss Belasysse's lack of response to her family's questions about the amulet, she must have already figured this out for herself.

Lucy nearly choked on her sherry as realization flooded over her. Octavia Belasysse must have some awareness of how she had come by the piece. Had she remembered? If she remembered
that,
then what else did she remember? Although Lucy wished more than anything she could question Miss Belasysse about her newly formed suspicions, she remained silent, carefully listening to the conversations going on around her.

“What a miracle it is that your daughter has been returned safely to you,” she heard the magistrate say across the table to Lady Belasysse.

“Indeed,” Lady Belasysse said, glancing across the table at her brother. He was speaking rather animatedly to Mrs. Larimer and Susan Belasysse. “We are rather at a loss to explain where she has been these last ten months. My dear child is a bit muddled, you see. Always has been, ever since she was a child.”

Overhearing her comment, Mrs. Larimer clucked her teeth. “Such a shame, and a worry for you, too. So hard to have someone so afflicted in one's own family, I should think.”

“Indeed,” Lady Belasysse murmured. “I do not deny that it has been a trial, one which my husband and I have borne these many years. Although naturally we are quite relieved to discover that she is safe and well.”

“I see,” the magistrate replied. “And to think you even believed her to have died. How did such a strange thing transpire?”

“You are well informed, I see,” Lady Belasysse said, draining her goblet, while Harlan Boteler gave much of the same account they had heard a few days before.

As the magistrate listened in his thoughtful way, he picked up the decanter and poured generous amounts of wine into the goblets around him, adding only a few drops to his own. The side conversations stopped as they all listened to Mr. Boteler.

“It is quite a strange thing,” Miss Belasysse said. “To think others believed me to have passed on.” She smiled at Mr. Sheridan. “James, am I not flesh and blood?” She touched the physician's hand, a gesture as forward and intimate as her use of his first name at the dining table.

Lucy was amused to see Mr. Sheridan flush and stammer. “Yes, Miss Belasysse, yes, most certainly you are.”

“Octavia! Daughter!” Lady Belasysse hissed, her smile stretching across her teeth. “Such nonsense you speak.” She began to cut her beef vigorously

“Is it nonsense, Mother?” Octavia asked, her voice overly sweet. “Something strange certainly occurred, and I am hoping you can help me determine the cause.”

Susan Belasysse downed her goblet of wine then. Glancing at her, Lucy could see the young woman's cheeks were growing quite flushed. She began to speak loudly across the table. “Dr. Larimer, I am of the mind you should call in, call in, who should he call in?” She thumped her hand on the table. “Oh, yes, Valentine Greatrakes. Have you heard of him?”

“Greatrakes?” Dr. Larimer asked, his jaw tight. “That Irish quacksalver?”

“Yes,” she replied, not heeding the physician's words. “I am certain he could heal her. He has been known to cure people just by laying his hands upon them. Since my dear sister-in-law has not yet been relieved of her affliction, despite being in your care, it might be helpful to bring him in.” She hiccupped.

“Madam,” the physician replied, his expression blackening, “I can assure you, that fraud's work is not recognized by the College of Physicians.”

“He passed himself off as a healer,” Mr. Sheridan explained to the others, sounding a bit nervous. “I think it is best if we do not discuss—”

“But is he not at the court of King Charles himself?” Susan Belasysse interrupted. “Surely, being under the protection of the king must say much of his legitimacy?”

Dr. Larimer's face was growing an uncomfortable shade of purple. He turned to Master Hargrave. “Thomas, if you would.”

Master Hargrave replied, “I am familiar with the fantastical words of this individual. The tract is called
A Brief Account of Mr. Valentine Greatrakes and Divers of the Strange Cures by Him Lately Performed.
”

“See?” Susan hiccupped again. “‘The strange cures performed.'”

“I am also aware,” Master Hargrave continued, “that the tract in question contained fifty-one pages of testimonials—all written by himself!”

Everyone laughed, except Susan, who picked up her glass again sullenly. “I was just trying to help my dear sister,” she said. “Someone needs to!”

“Who would like some lamb?” Mrs. Larimer said quickly. “Dear, it is time to carve.” Still scowling, Dr. Larimer accepted the carving knives from Molly.

Mrs. Larimer, still trying to smooth over the tension, turned toward Adam. “Mister Hargrave, I have heard tell that you work in the Fire Court. How interesting that must be.”

Adam began to talk about his work, explaining how he would take the testimony of those who had lost their property in the Great Fire, as well as detail the quibbling that had ensued between landlords and their tenants.

“I see that the lines of the new streets are starting to be laid out,” Mr. Boteler commented. “Should be rather grand when it is complete.”

“Yes, it is my understanding that Christopher Wren's plan was of an even grander scale, but the king did not wish to fund such a masterful and expensive project,” Master Hargrave commented.

The men proceeded to speak for a few more minutes about the rebuilding efforts in the city. Lucy was quite fascinated, listening to the plans, and forgot temporarily about what they were supposed to discover.

Susan Belasysse, evidently bored by the conversation about the Great Fire and its aftermath, downed another goblet of red wine. Lady Belasysse was watching her daughter-in-law, too, a tight smile on her face, even as she listened politely to what Dr. Larimer was saying beside her.

Adam picked up the jug of wine and poured more into the goblets of others near him. Like his father, he did not add anything to either his own cup or that of Octavia Belasysse, who was speaking now to Mr. Sheridan.