Page 50 of Who Cries for the Lost

“You think she’ll agree to see you again?”

“I don’t intend to give her a chance to deny me. She frequently takes her children for a walk in the park in the morning. I’ll simply contrive to run into her there.”

Saturday, 17 June

The next morning dawned clear and sunny, with a light breeze that lifted the bright green leaves of the plane trees in the park against the blue sky and scattered the red and pink petals of spent roses across the grass like confetti. Hero and Claire took the boys to toss a ball near the round reservoir in Hyde Park and hadn’t been there more than ten minutes before Hero spotted Eloisa Sedgewick with two of her three children and a middle-aged woman in a somber black dress turning in through the gate.

“Here,” said Hero, throwing the ball to Claire. To the boys she called, “I’ll be right back.”

Eloisa had seen her now, and Hero caught the faint pinch of dismay that flitted across the woman’s features before she smoothed it away.

“Mrs. Sedgewick, good morning!” said Hero, walking across the grass toward her. “How are you?”

Eloisa paused, one hand coming up to cup the crown of her black widow’s bonnet as she cast a quick glance farther up the path. “Lady Devlin; what a pleasant surprise. I’m doing well, thank you.”

The two children—a serious-looking towheaded boy of eight and a girl who couldn’t be more than a year younger—stood a few paces away from their mother with the somber, pinched-faced woman who was surely their governess. Eloisa had obviously decided not to take any chances when she’d replaced Phoebe Cox.

“It’s a lovely morning, is it not?” said Hero, coming up to them.

“It is, yes.”

“How fortuitous, my seeing you like this. I’ve been wanting to ask you something: Did your husband ever speak to you of Cabrera?”

Eloisa looked at her blankly. “Who?”

“The island of Cabrera, just off Majorca in the Mediterranean. Did he ever mention it to you?”

The widow colored slightly, obviously embarrassed by her error. “No. Why do you ask?”

Hero kept her voice low out of consideration for the children. “Devlin thinks it might have something to do with his death.”

“Oh,” said Eloisa, casting another glance up the path.

“I’m sorry,” said Hero, watching her. “Am I keeping you? Were you meeting someone?”

Eloisa jerked her gaze back to Hero’s face. “What? Oh, no; of course not.”

“Good, because I need to ask you something else. Let’s walk apart from the others for a moment, shall we?”

“What is it?” asked Eloisa, accompanying Hero with obvious reluctance.

“It’s about the governess that you dismissed last spring. I’m wondering, why was that?”

Eloisa’s expression remained bland. But Hero could see the pulse beating in her throat, just above the narrow band of black lace that edged the high neck of her mourning gown. “I’m afraid she simply proved to be unsatisfactory.”

“Oh? And how long was she with you?”

“Four years.”

“Goodness. And you only just decided she was unsatisfactory?”

The widow’s jaw tightened. “If you must know, I was forced to let her go because I discovered she was with child.”

“Did she tell you who the father was?”

Eloisa gave a decidedly unbelievable laugh. “Good heavens, no. Why would I care?”

“She didn’t tell you that your husband seduced her? That he was the father of her child?”

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