Page 61 of Murder at Madame Chambon's
“But weren’tyouthe new heir?”Evelina asked.
“But for a simple marriage certificate I would have been,” Mr.Grimshaw said in a soft bitter tone before adding with a forced smile, “Butyourfather is a fine gentleman who loves his children very much.”
Evelina was puzzled.“I have brothers and sisters?No, that cannot be.”
“Yes, indeed, Evelina.But your father has been especially considerate toyou.I have been responsible for ensuring a very generous monthly sum goes to your mother for the upkeep of both herself and you.I was responsible for the details of your dowry—”
Evelina interrupted him with a gasp.“So do you know… if my father disapproves of Lord Bellingham?”
Grimshaw considered this.“Your father strives for the peace and happiness of those he loves.He will make great sacrifices to protect those whom he regards as needing and deserving of his protection.”
Evelina clasped her hands and leaned forward.“Please, Mr.Grimshaw.I need to see my father, if only to reassure him that no one will look after me better than Lord Bellingham.Only he will make me happy!Perhaps Mama has said something that has set him against Lord Bellingham.”
“You mama and papa have not spoken for many years, Evelina.I act as the intermediary.”
“Then you know my mother, too?”She was astonished.
Mr.Grimshaw nodded.“I have known your mother since you were a child, Evelina.I remember when the decision was made to send you to school in Paris.”
“Yet I have never heard your name,” Evelina marveled.
“Your mama and papa did not wish their … estrangement to be made public.They are very private people,” said Mr.Grimshaw.“Now, here is the family crypt where all your family members have been interred over the centuries.It’s getting a little late and is perhaps a little cold, but if you would like, I do have the key with me, and can show you the resting places of those nearest and dearest to you.”
Evelina glanced through the window.The weather did look a little bleak, and the cemetery was a little ghostly, but she was afraid of squandering this incredible, fortuitous chance to know something of her origins.
If Mr.Grimshaw explained her relationship to some of these people, she wouldn’t feel quite so ignorant when she finally went to see her papa.
“It’s not too cold, Mr.Grimshaw,” she assured him, smoothing her skirts as the carriage came to a standstill.
She let him help her out of the equipage and waited, staring at the enormous lichen covered trees and stones that surrounded them, then at the magnificent family crypt.
“It is one of the largest and finest at Highgate Cemetery,” said Mr.Grimshaw, locating an iron key from a large set he had in the leather satchel he carried.
“It’s very dark inside,” Evelina said as he opened the iron door, stooping to enter and then realizing that Mr.Grimshaw was lighting a flint to illuminate a lantern he held up to illuminate the large space.
“This is my father’s family?”Evelina asked, disbelieving.“Myfamily?”The crypt was long and cavernous, the floor paved with slate, topped with a row of sarcophagi disappearing into the gloom.It clearly belonged to a very great personage.Why had her mother said nothing?
“This is the final resting place for members of your family, Evelina.You know, when you were born, your father did not know he was to be next in line when his cousin died, leaving him the title and the estate with, of all course, all the attendant responsibilities.”
“He didn’t?”She could barely attend to him as she stepped forward, reverently running her hand over the smooth, cold marble face of an ancestor who’d died the previous century.
“No, you were born when he lived rather a humble life.But if you are patient, I’ll introduce you to your forbears while I tell you the story.”
Evelina followed him as he explained each of the effigies and marble-topped tombs while she shook her head in disbelief.If she’d only known, she could have held her head up high when the girls at the convent had scorned her for knowing so little about her mama and papa.
Together, they walked the length of the crypt.Ten, fifteen yards of flag-stoned floor with engraved eulogies upon the walls, gloriously colored paintings and stained-glass windows.
“Mr.Grimshaw!”She stopped suddenly, calling out to him as he walked a few yards in front of her.”
“Yes, Evelina?”He turned.“It’s time I should be returning home.It’s growing late and cold.”
“Mr.Grimshaw, please bring the light.I think I just saw my namesake.”
“Your namesake?”
“Yes, a grave.A sarcophagus.I see it belongs to a young girl called Evelina.She died when she was a child, but I cannot see what year she was born unless you bring me the light.”
“Ah, you have found Evelina.”
