Page 22 of An Honorable Deception
WEIGHT:14 stone
AGE:50
HAIR:Very little. What remains is grey and rings the backof his head
EYES:Brown, bespectacled
STYLE:Rather staid incut but impeccable in quality and fabric choices, from Davies& Sons.
OBSERVANCES:Mr. Rheams is the grandson of a baron, untitled but landed and better off financially than his cousinwho inherited the family estates. His branch of the familyseems to be in the habit of marrying for money(such a cliché), which tradition he upheld when he marriedVictoria De Meter in 1905, whose net worth andhighconnections were beyond compare. (A fact that I overheard herthrowing in her husband’s face when they were engagedin a quiet but heated argument on the balcony outsidea ball last June. It seems when there is troublein the Rheamses’ paradise, the missus is quick to remindher husband of who is in whose debt with theirmatch.) Mr. and Mrs. Rheams have no children. They areeach on the boards of various charities; she the Women’s Aid and Charing Cross Hospital Auxiliary and Ladies Auxiliaryof the Ayahs’ Home, he at Charing Cross Hospital, theAyahs’ Home, King’s Cross Orphanage, and the Empire House.
CASESINWHICHHEHASBEENOBSERVED:Brough
IMPRESSIONS:Rheamsis a cool, stiff sort—not what we would termpleasant company ^and his wife would agree! Regular church attendance, makes a show of their charitable work. The couple isfrequently with Lord and Lady Vernon and Mr. and Mrs. Knight, though the lady is a great deal younger hercounterparts there.
MEMBERAT:Brooks’s, Marlborough; the lady atAlexandra
Yates gave the sheet a quick once-over while Lavinia read it, refreshing himself on the notes Marigold had taken. A smile played at his lips at her note about the woman’s outspoken reactions to her husband. He held out his hand, expecting Lavinia to put the paper back into it.
She batted it away. “Is this the sort of thing you always record?”
“Generally speaking.” Marigold pulled out Father’s old desk chair and sat with an uncharacteristic, tired exhale, rubbing a hand over her stomach. This little niece or nephew of his had better be the cutest and sweetest child ever to be born to make up for the discomfort he or she was causing hissister. “I imagine in Lord Vernon’s there’s a similar reference to both Rheams and the Ayahs’ Home.”
“Fascinating. It’ll be like a giant puzzle then, won’t it? These files. References and cross-references, updates and deletions. Connections and curiosity.” Lavinia finally looked up from the paper. “It reminds me a bit of the genealogies of the Hemming family.”
His brow lifted. “When did you study that?”
She blinked. “I was abed for five years, Yates. I read everything in the house. Twice.”
It was his turn to blink. “But you never pick up anything but novels.”
“Now, yes. When I’m reading only for entertainment rather than lack of any other options, I wantfun. But do you think my parents had novels enough in the library to keep me occupied that long?” She shook her head.
He scratched his. It seemed he’d misjudged Lavinia when he spotted the book on medieval cathedral architecture she’d pulled out. He’d simply assumed that what he’d seen her reading before and after her illness was indicative of what she’d read during it too. “All right. So ... genealogies?”
“The connections, you see. Built on nothing but names.” She wiggled her fingers his way.
It took him a moment to realize she was asking for the Vernon dossier he hadn’t yet pulled out. He did so quickly and handed it over as well, reading over her shoulder. “As expected. Mentioned as friends of the Rheamses, also on the board of the Ayahs’ Home. And a few others besides.”
“Interesting.” Rather than explain herself, Lavinia moved to the drawers and pulled open the one forA–F. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“As long as you put things away in their proper order,look at whatever you like.” Marigold leaned an elbow on the desk. “I’m hungry again.”
“Your hero, right on cue.” Merritt’s voice preceded his figure by a beat, but he came in with a smile and a plate of fruit, cheese, and bread, which he slid onto the desk before Marigold. “Drina hailed me on my way inside and sent me up to find you. She said you ought to be peckish about now.”
Marigold smiled. “God bless Drina. And you, my love.”
Merritt perched on the edge of the desk, smoothing a bit of Marigold’s hair away from her face. It was a gesture so sweet and loving that Yates didn’t know whether to make an exaggerated gagging sound or sigh in relief at the happiness they’d found.
He opted for turning back to Lavinia. “What exactly are you looking for, Vin?”
She’d vanished in those few seconds his attention had been on Merritt. Or, no. She’d sunk down to the floor beside the cupboard, which meant the desk hid her. As forwhyLady Lavinia Hemming, who had been the mysterious belle of every ball she attended this Season, was sitting cross-legged on the floor in their study ... “Vin?”
“Hush. I’m busy. Marigold, can you reach the Bs? I need a Bellevue. George.”
This time the look his sister sent him was more amused than concerned. “Busy. Eating. But Yates can reach.”
He spent the next twenty minutes pulling whatever dossier Lavinia demanded, trying not to squirm at the way she was papering the floor with them. Merritt and Marigold were talking about the letter he’d received from his uncle, how Lady Alethia had been that morning, and other normal subjects.
