Miss Lily's Lovely Ladies by Jackie French

Author:Jackie French
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2017-03-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 35

Dear Dad,

Excuse this short note — I’ll write properly to you and Miss Thwaites tomorrow. But tonight I need to ask a question. TWO questions. DO you think war is coming soon, and

She looked at the paper, then tore it up. There was no need to ask a man who had lost his leg on the North West Frontier if he wanted war to come. She knew her father too well. Stubborn, sentimental, ruthless at times, he loved the challenge of making money and the sense of superiority it gave him, as well as the money itself. But he would not want war.

And Miss Lily? Did she realise that Emily had been in the pro-war camp all along? And what would she say about Mr Lorrimer’s request?

Sophie rang the bell. ‘Doris, I need to call Shillings. Could you ask the butler to call for the exchange for me? I’ll tell them the number myself.’ A small breach of etiquette, but she did not want Emily to know about this call.

Half an hour later the voice on the other end of the telephone line said, ‘The Earl of Shillings’s residence.’

‘Samuel? This is Sophie Higgs. I am so sorry to call so late, but may I speak to Miss Lily?’

‘Miss Lily is not in residence, Miss Higgs.’

Why was Samuel answering the telephone? Where was Jones? ‘Would you know how I could contact Miss Lily?’

‘I believe she is travelling, Miss Higgs. But if you care to send a letter, I will forward it.’

A letter could be read by others. Implicate her, as well as Miss Lily. And surely Miss Lily’s contacts had already told her about Emily’s true opinions. The inevitable march to war might even be why she was discreetly unavailable.

‘Thank you, Samuel,’ she said slowly. ‘I … I will do that.’ Though the letter would contain only the most veiled reference to Emily. ‘Please give my regards to all at Shillings.’

‘Of course, Miss Higgs. Thank you, Miss Higgs.’

She put the receiver down.

It was late when she knocked at Hannelore’s door, but there were faint sounds from within. Hannelore’s maid opened it, a froth of tissue paper on the bed behind her. She curtseyed as Sophie stepped past her. ‘So you are really leaving?’

‘I must.’ Hannelore looked like she had been crying. For the past, wondered Sophie, or for what might come?

Sophie put out her hand. Hannelore grasped it in both of hers, then said something to the maid in German. The woman bobbed another curtsey, swept the tissue paper and a pile of silk underwear from the bed, and left with them cradled in her arms.

‘No one downstairs said the war was likely to happen so soon.’

‘I think they do not know what this will lead to in Austria, in Germany. But my aunt does, and Dolphie.’ She tried to smile at Sophie. ‘And your Mr Lorrimer as well.’

‘He isn’t my Mr Lorrimer,’ said Sophie.

‘He could be. I think he could be good for you, Sophie, darling.’ Hannelore still pronounced it ‘gut’.

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