he answered, having missed the initial question.
Their two sets of hands clapped. Winifred continued, “Delightful. Next time we must invite Lucille to join us. She will be upset about missing our visit. The child always did love a good tea party. She was so young when her mother passed, why, was it just minutes?”
“You are correct, dear Winifred. She passed only minutes after birthing the lass. Never seen a man so distraught as Louis. Refused to touch his own daughter for weeks, he did. Why, if it hadn’t been for the nurse I don’t know what would have happened to the poor child.”
“But do you remember how he doted on her as she aged? Guilt-ridden, he was. After he neglected her and came to his senses, he never went back.”
“You are right, dear sister. Lavished the child, he did, with every conceivable convenience. Imagine hiring an inventor to run a hose from the tub to an outside drain! The entire neighborhood thought him crazy or at least unstable, but it worked.”
“And her pony!”
“Oh, she had the finest pony. They say it was of a royal bloodline.”
“We must be making her sound terrible.” One sister slapped the other on the arm.
“You must understand she never asked for those things, oh no. In fact, she gave so much to the children's home, it was unbelievable. Her father Louis, God rest his soul, just bought it anyway. He was an odd bird.”
“Odd bird, indeed.”
Bryce had trouble keeping up with who said what. However, the words they spoke challenged his mind. He couldn’t visualize the person they spoke of. A woman with a silver spoon in her mouth. Albeit she’d avoided this lifestyle to some extent, she’d still been raised as a privileged person. Raised to live in high society, she held the ability to fit in with every person she came in contact with. The lass was an enigma.
“Oh, look at the time.”
Bryce jumped from his seat as one of the women mentioned the time. The lateness of the hour and his absence from the house next door had surely worried Lucy. As he looked out the window and tried to think of a way to extricate himself from the women without hurting their feelings, one of the twins placed a delicious smelling treat in front of his face.
“Please take this pie,” said Winnie.
“Blackberry pie is Lucy’s favorite,” added Winifred.
“What? I thought it was apple pie?” asked Winnie.
“Apple, you say? Are you sure? I’m still thinking blackberry,” said Winifred.
Bryce left the two old women arguing. If they wanted Lucy to have the thing, they could bring it by later. The yard opened onto the street and Bryce walked in front of the two houses to reach Lucy’s home. Lights blazed through the curtained windows.
Slipping up the walk and through the door, Bryce heard a racket. The sound came from the study. Still filthy from earlier in the day, Bryce avoided the carpet as he walked toward the noise.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lucy fled the scene. She stumbled upon the uneven ground as bile rose in her throat. Fear coursed through her veins as her feet slapped the sidewalk in a run. A black hackney loomed nearby. She quickly boarded it and gave directions to her street, avoiding the exact address for her home.
Once the driver stopped, Lucy stepped off. She waited until he left, and then ran around the corner to her own home. She flung the door wide, burst through, and skidded to a stop in the study.
Where was it? Books flew through the air as she searched through every one. No stray papers fluttered to the ground. Next she searched the desktop. After finding nothing on top, she pulled the desk drawers open and threw them to the floor, letting the contents spill out.
Spotting nothing, Lucy lit every candle she could find. The house blazed with light, and Lucy returned to the study. She lifted the Mai Ogi fan. Light hit the material and cast a shadow, revealing the secret message.
As far as Lucy knew her father had held only one piece of the puzzle. The agent received just the coded message. From there the coded message passed to the contact. Perhaps the contact held the key? Or the message passed hands again; Lucy didn’t know.
What she did know was that her contact, Joshua, or in this case Reginald Spalding, was dead, and that because she didn’t have the ability to decode the message, the situation hadn’t changed. This was still a matter of