Page 62 of Murder in Matrimony
Amelia had known the criticism was coming, yet still she bristled. “Miss Rothschild wanted a different life.”
“Abetterlife.” Mrs. Hines’s eyes lifted, and for a moment, Amelia could see the young woman she had been: high cheekbones, chocolate brown hair, and eyes not black but deep, dark blue.
“And who’s to say she didn’t have a taste of it.” Mrs. Hines tapped her ivory-handled cane. “She gave me this. Until then I used a stick—there.” She pointed to a piece of wood next to the cold stove.
“It’s an exquisite—and expensive—article to be sure.” Simon nodded with appreciation. “Did Miss Rothschild ever say how she came by that kind of money?”
“No, but I had an idea the factory manager had taken a liking to her. She was a good baker, like her mother. Before the public house was reduced to a barroom, she was her mother’s right hand at the oven.”
Mrs. Rothschild was an excellent baker. Amelia had tried her goods at the prayer meeting, and they were incomparable. If her daughter had an ounce of her skill, she might have been valued for her expertise—and perhaps well compensated.
The idea put into motion a plan of visiting Baker Biscuits.If she could talk to Miss Rothschild’s superiors, they might be able to confirm her position at the factory and whether it paid better than an entry-level position.
She could place a biscuit order en masse for the wedding breakfast. Tabitha would certainly frown upon the idea, but if Amelia didn’t share it with her, she would be none the wiser. It would give her an excuse, if nothing else, for the inquiry. If she could gain entrance to the factory rooms, she might be able to ascertain where Miss Rothschild’s windfall came from—and if it was obtained by legal means. She would also be able to investigate the factory. If something foul was going on, she could report her findings in her Lady Agony column.
“I’m certain you are right, Mrs. Hines.” Amelia smiled. “Mrs. Rothschild is an excellent baker, and her daughter surely took after her. That kind of skill would be valued anywhere, but particularly at her place of employment. Did she say she enjoyed her time there?”
“Very much.” If Mrs. Hines was impressed with the compliment or the smile, her face didn’t show it. Her lips were pursed in a perpetual pout. “She said her employment proved some good had come of my attack and told me so by giving me the cane. She promised more gifts were to come, but I only wanted her friendship. That’s all I ever wanted from her mother. Not her gifts. Not her charity. Not her guilt.”
While Amelia had thought Mrs. Hines’s attitude unkind and even belligerent, she now understood it in a new light. Mrs. Hines wasn’t hostile; she wasn’t unappreciative of the gifts. More than anything, though, she wanted friendship. Not pity. The real way to atone for the attack was to be a friend at a time when she needed one most. If Amelia could, she’d find a way to tell Mrs. Rothschild.
“I understand,” Amelia said. “One cannot put a price on friendship. You’ve been very helpful, Mrs. Hines. We appreciate your taking the time to talk with us.”
Simon seconded her statement. “Thank you.”
The lines of her face softened, and although she did not smile, she lifted her eyes in acknowledgment.
They saw themselves out the door, and as soon as theyreturned to Simon’s carriage, Amelia voiced her plan to visit Baker Biscuits tomorrow. The afternoon was growing late, and she must learn if Madge’s visit to Captain Fitz had been successful.
“I’ll take Kitty with me to the biscuit shop, unless you’d like to go, too.” Amelia adjusted her parasol on the seat next to her. “She might be better than you with domestic details.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He smiled.
She returned the smile, but as they approached her house, the smile dropped from her lips. She craned her neck to see if her eyes were deceiving her. Indeed, they were not. Captain Fitz was beside the gooseberry bush, hollering up at an open window.
“Miss Scott, I did not mean what I said.” Captain Fitz’s hat fell backward, and he repositioned it. “Please allow me to explain.”
“That’s not something one sees every day,” murmured Simon. “I am going to gamble and wager the talk did not go well.”
She sighed. “Very perceptive. However, no amount of yelling will make my sister see him if she does not want to. We must talk to him ourselves.”
“We?” Simon arched a dark eyebrow. “As you said, I’m not good with domestic details.”
“You will not help me?”
“What would I say?” His voice grew more serious. “I cannot get in the middle of a man’s affairs. He wouldn’t like me to see him this way. It’s best I leave immediately.”
Amelia knew he was right. Later, when he was thinking clearly, the captain would regret Simon observing his behavior. “Fine. Tell your driver to let me out here so that Captain Fitz does not observe the crest on your carriage.”
Simon did as she requested, and she was off to solve her sister’s problems. She had the idea this is what Sisyphus felt every time he reached the top of the hill only to have the boulder roll down again. Life with Madge was like that lately. All sibling relationships had their ups and downs, however. She took comfort in the fact that Madge would do the same for her.
“Psst, psst,” came a noise from the front door. Amelia looked and saw Winifred peeking behind the heavy mahogany door.
Amelia detoured from the gooseberry bush.
“I’m afraid I have bad news.” Despite the foreboding words, Winifred looked quite interested and even excited by the development. “Your family is upstairs with Madge, who is laid out on the bed, proclaiming Captain Fitz no longer loves her and that she should have ‘kept her big trap shut.’ And Captain Fitz, despite being told by Jones that Madge is not here, will not leave the lawns. He is determined to clear up a quarrel they had at his house.”
“What an ordeal.” Amelia looked over Winifred’s shoulder. “And Aunt Tabitha?”
