Page 81 of Infamous

‘Of course I’ll come,’ Eddie said indignantly, but the outgoing party was already walking away, Juno trailing them with a dejected air and a downturned tail. Eddie followed them a little way down the lawn and then stopped, barely feeling the rain, watching Rose’s billowing coat and dark hair flying, keeping her in sight for as long as she possibly could.

When she looked up at the house she saw Nash standing at a window on the second floor, also watching them go, his expression impossible to discern from behind the glass.

Dear Mother and Father,

I am surprised to hear that you saw Mrs Nicholson the other day, as you have never managed to bump into her before, what luck—she is only back in town to see her sister, and will return very shortly. You need not worry about us being without chaperones, as we are always together in a group, and the others are older and more mature than I am, so they are taking me under their wings.

Mr Nicholson, of course, is a perfect gentleman—when people think of poets they imagine them as scoundrels (thanks in large part to Lord Byron!) but luckily he is nothing of the sort. He is helping me greatly with my writing, and has promised to put me in touch with his editor soon.

I hope my brothers and sisters are keeping well, and that Trix has not attempted to eat any more shoes. When Mrs Nicholson returns I shall tell her you saw her—how funny!

Yours,

Eddie

Chapter Twenty-seven

‘You know, I think leaving simply because of a little wind and rain shows a lack of character,’ Nash said at luncheon.

The dining room felt empty to Eddie with four of their original party now missing. It was also somehow less friendly; while Kitty was generally amenable, she did have a tendency to act as if other people’s emotions were somewhat beneath her unless they were an interesting study for art, and as much as Eddie had come to be fond of Valentine, they indulged Nash too much for comfort.

‘No roof repairs – we die like men,’ said Valentine, somewhat proving Eddie’s point.

Nash snorted appreciatively and then topped up his wine. He topped up Eddie’s, too, even though she had hardly touched her glass.

‘You ought to move to Dayo’s room, Edie. You might be somewhat in the firing line up on the second floor, if any of the rest of my house decides to collapse.’

This had not actually occurred to Eddie, but the thought of moving was a blessed relief. The idea of trying to sleep in the bed she had shared with Rose – the bed that they had left rumpled and disorderly, and that was probably this very minute being remade by Anne until it looked as if nothing of importance had ever occurred there – made her chest ache.

‘All right,’ she said, shrugging, affecting nonchalance. ‘If Mrs Hall does not mind.’

‘Hmm. She does keep quivering like a vexed jelly every time I ask her to go upstairs or suggest that she takes a look at the long gallery.’

‘Well, you can hardly blame her,’ said Eddie. ‘She was almost crushed.’

‘She wasnotalmost crushed. She simply flirted with death, and death said,good God, no, thank you.’

They all laughed except Eddie, who hoped fervently that Mrs Hall was not currently standing outside the dining room, listening to them mock her near-demise.

When luncheon – which had lasted well over two hours, and was more liquid than solid – finally came to a close, Eddie went upstairs to haphazardly throw her belongings into her trunk, so that they could be easily transported downstairs. She found one of Rose’s gloves under a cushion and stood holding it for a while like a widow at a window, before shaking the feeling off and tossing it in with the rest of her things. Juno wandered in and stared morosely at the bed, as if expecting Rose to return to it at any moment.

That, somehow, was worse than all the rest of it put together.

It was only when Eddie was on the landing with an armful of her belongings that she realised she hadn’t seen her manuscript.

It wasn’t on the dresser, where she was sure she had left it. She rummaged through her trunk twice before unpacking it entirely, her panic growing as every possible hiding place came up empty. It wasn’t under the bed, or on one of the chairs. She rushed out into the hall, calling for Anne and Mrs Hall, and when Mrs Hall came, was reassured repeatedly that it would never have been thrown out.

‘One does not manage Mr Nicholson’s affairs,’ the housekeeper said frostily, ‘without becoming accustomed to treating all manner ofscrap paperlike holy scripture.’

Eddie asked Kitty and Valentine, who were sitting in the South Parlour, if they had seen it. They had not. She started searching places she knew it absolutely could not be, in the hope that she might bend the rules of reality and be rewarded for her ingenuity: the library; Albert’s old room; her new room on the first floor, which had been freshly turned over. When Nash knocked on the door she was halfway to tears; she almost threw herself at him in her desperation.

‘You haven’t seen my manuscript, have you? I am so sure it was on the dresser last night, but I cannot find it anywhere.’

Nash grimaced and shook his head, extinguishing her last hope. She sat back down on the floor surrounded by the things from her trunk, which she had unpacked for a third time, and pressed a hand to her forehead as tears of frustration streamed down her cheeks.

‘Oh, Edie,’ said Nash softly, coming to kneel next to her. ‘Perhaps she did not take it on purpose? They were in rather a hurry to catch the boat .?.?. although I’m not entirely sure what she could have mistaken it for .?.?.’

Eddie’s mind had been free-falling into a void of endless misery, but this broke through. She looked up at him, confused.