Page 59 of What Cannot Be Said

The child was silent until they’d drawn away from her governess. But then Thisbe threw a quick glance over her shoulder and leaned in close to Hero to say quietly, “You know about what happened to Mama and Emma, don’t you?”

“I do,” said Hero, likewise keeping her voice low. “And I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Thisbe. If there is anything I can ever do to help, promise me you won’t hesitate to ask.”

The little girl sucked in a quick breath and nodded. Then her small chin quivered, and she said, “I do so wish Malcolm were here.”

“He is coming home, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I know Papa sent for him and Duncan, but it seems to be taking them ever so long to get back.”

“Scotland is rather far away. But I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“I s’pose,” said Thisbe bleakly, her thin chest jerking with her ragged breathing. “The house is so empty without Mama and Emma. I miss them so much, it’s like this awful heavy weight pressing down on my chest and shoulders that never lets up. It keeps pressing and pressing, until I feel like it’s crushing me. And when I think about never seeing them again—never, ever, for the rest of my life!—it...” She broke off, sucked in a shaky breath, then said, “It hurts so much, I don’t know how I can bear it.”

“Oh, Thisbe,” said Hero, reaching out to take the child’s hand in hers and hold it tight. “I do know what you mean. I’ve always thought that’s one of the hardest parts of losing someone you love—knowing you’ll never see them again.”

Thisbe nodded, her lashes wet with tears she refused to let fall. “When I said that to Papa, he said I mustn’t think like that. And then when I asked him what he thought would’ve happened if I’d gone on the picnic—if he thought whoever killed Emma and Mama would have killed me, too—he said I mustn’t think like that, either. Only, how can I not think about things like that? How am I supposed to stop?”

“Were you ill?” Hero asked gently. “Is that why you didn’t go?”

Thisbe shook her head. “Mama made me stay home as punishment for something she thought I’d done. But I hadn’t done it, and I was so angry with her for not believing me that when they left, I refused to kiss her goodbye.” Her voice broke. “And now she’s gone, and I’ll never, ever see her again!”

The little girl was crying openly now, great choking sobs that suspended her voice and shook her small frame. “Oh, Thisbe,” said Hero, drawing the child into her arms to hug her close. Looking up, she met the governess’s anxious gaze but shook her head when the woman would have come forward to help.

“I know your mother loved you, Thisbe,” Hero told the sobbing girl. “She loved you so, so much, and she was so very proud of you. She would understand; I know she would. And I know that even if it only came about because of a misunderstanding that made you angry, she would still be so, so glad that she made you stay home, because it kept you alive. And nothing is more important to a mother than knowing her child is safe.”

Thisbe swallowed hard and dashed the heel of one palm across her wet eyes as she cast a quick, anxious glance back at her governess, now drawn up a respectful distance away. “I’ve heard the servants whispering, you know,” the girl said quietly. “They’re saying Papa must have killed her—killed them both.” The child looked up at Hero with wide, frightened eyes. “Do you think he did?”

“Oh, no, Thisbe,” Hero said in a rush. “You know how servants talk.”

Thisbe let out a shaky sigh and nodded. “That’s what Miss Braithwaite said when I tried to talk to her about it. And then she said I mustn’t even think such a thing. It’s what everyone keeps saying to me, Don’t think about this. Don’t think about that. But what they really mean is, Don’t talk about it. Nobody will talk to me about any of it, so all I can do is think about it.”

They had reached the center of the square, where two wooden benches flanked a rose garden clustered around a crumbling pedestal that had once held a statue of George I on horseback but was now empty. Taking Thisbe by the hand, Hero drew the child over to sit with her on one of the benches. “I want you to know that you can talk to me about whatever is worrying you or making you sad,” said Hero, keeping hold of the girl’s hand. “And I mean that. Anything.” When she said it, Hero wasn’t thinking about the questions Thisbe might be able to answer; her entire focus was on her friend’s lonely, hurting child and all the adults in her life who were failing her so very badly.

Thisbe looked up at Hero with wide, frightened eyes. “Do you think whoever killed Mama and Emma will try to kill me?”

Hero tightened her grip on the little girl’s hand. “No, I don’t think that at all, Thisbe. Why would they?”

“Why would anyone want to hurt Mama and Emma?”

Hero looked down into her pale, wan face. “That I don’t know. But I do know that Bow Street is working very hard to try to figure it all out.”

Thisbe nodded, her lips pressing tightly together. “That’s what Arabella said. She’s telling everyone that Major Finch must have done it, but I don’t believe her.”

Hero looked at her in surprise. “You know Major Finch?”

Thisbe nodded again. “He’s an old friend of Mama’s. I don’t know how Arabella found out about him, but she’s so nosy; she’s always snooping into stuff that’s none of her business.” It was obvious from the face she pulled that Thisbe was not fond of her cousin Arabella.

“And what makes Arabella suspect the Major?”

“I don’t know how, but she knows he and Mama had a fight. Emma heard them and told me about it, but I can’t believe she’d tell Arabella.”

Hero was careful to keep the intensity of her interest out of her voice. “When was this? That they had the fight, I mean.”

Thisbe twitched one shoulder in a shrug. “Late last week sometime. I don’t know exactly.”

“Do you know what the fight was about?”

Thisbe shook her head. “No, because Emma wouldn’t tell me—she said I was too young to understand such things. So I got angry at her, too. And now I’ll never see either of them again!” The words ended on a wail, and Hero gathered the child once more into her arms and held her small, trembling body close.

---