The Vital Principle (A Second Sons Inquiry Agency Regency Mystery Book 1) by Amy Corwin

Author:Amy Corwin [Corwin, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Fireside Mysteries
Published: 2011-02-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

The greatest griefs are those we cause ourselves. —Sophocles, c. 495-405 B.C.

When the funeral ended, Pru left the dowager to the care of Mr. Hereford and walked to Dower House. May had not been allowed to visit the main house, although she had sent the dowager a badly scrawled note begging her for permission to come and sit with her while the men attended the funeral.

At least May could write, albeit badly, Pru reflected as she slapped the swan-shaped brass knocker against its metal plate on the door to Dower House.

After several minutes, the door was yanked opened. A sharp-nosed little woman confronted Pru with a knot of gray hair precariously pinned on the top of her head beneath a tipsy white cap.

“Yes?” the lady asked.

“Oh, hello. I beg your pardon, but….” Pru tried not to stare, but her eyes repeatedly returned to the crown of the lady’s head. Her hands twitched, wanting to re-pin both the hair and the cap. She couldn’t drag her gaze away as part of her breathlessly waited for the hair to come tumbling down.

A sudden breeze blew past Pru’s shoulder. The cap quivered like a bird about to fly away. Even though it wasn’t her hair, she could sense gray strands slipping out of the pins to float around her cheeks and neck.

“Yes, Miss?” the lady asked. “May I assist you?”

“Ah, yes. I beg your pardon. Is May, that is, Lady Crowley available?”

“I shall endeavor to find out. Who, may I ask, is calling?”

“Miss Barnard.”

The tiny lady ushered Pru to a parlor at the front of the house. “Miss Barnard? Oh, yes, my cousin, the dowager, has spoken of you. You’ve been so kind to her.”

“Thank you. And you are?” Pru tried to stop eyeing the woman’s hair. A tortoise-shell hair pin trembled and then fell, only to be caught by the lady’s lacy neckline. The pin precariously perched there, threatening to fall with each movement.

The lace trembled as the lady took a breath. “I beg your pardon, I thought you knew. I’m so sorry. I’m the dowager’s cousin, Miss Brumbly.” The pin tumbled to the floor.

They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes. Finally, Pru reminded Miss Brumbly in exasperation that she wished to see the Lady Crowley, if at all possible.

Miss Brumbly’s pale, gray eyes opened wider. “But she’s at the manor house, surely….”

“That is, May. The new Lady Crowley.”

“Oh, yes.” She laughed. “Yes, of course. How silly of me. Yes. Shall I ring for the maid to bring her?”

“That would be lovely.” Unable to control herself any longer, Pru retrieved the hairpin from the carpet. She handed it to Miss Brumbly.

“What is this?” Miss Brumbly turned it over in her thin hands as if she had never seen it before.

“It fell. Out of your hair. You were going to ring for Lady Crowley….” When Miss Brumbly’s eyes focused beyond Pru’s shoulder in the general direction of the main house, Pru clarified, “May.” Miss Brumbly appeared even more confused. “The new Lady Crowley.

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