Death by the Thames by Anita Davison EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Anita Davison
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Mysteries
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LONDON, SEPTEMBER 1904
Flora stood before the gilt-framed mirror in her townhouse entrance hall
and tilted her hat further to the left, examining the result with a critical eye.
‘I like it the other way.’ Bunny’s reflection appeared over her shoulder,
his focus on a pasteboard card in his hand.
‘Why do you keep staring at that invitation? The words won’t change.’
Flora returned the pigeon-wing-grey velvet hat to its original position and
met his gaze in the mirror.
‘I still find it strange we’ve been invited to tour a hospital neither of us
has heard of.’ He tapped the card against his thumbnail before tucking it
into an inside pocket.
‘I asked Lydia about St Philomena’s Hospital.’ Flora tweaked a stray
strand of hair into place. ‘She says it was founded by a wealthy
philanthropist to provide medical care for the children of the poor.’
‘An admirable endeavour, I’m sure. But why have we been invited?’
Bunny pushed his spectacles further up his nose with a middle finger. ‘If
Arthur became ill, we’re not likely to take him to a hospital in Southwark.’
‘I suppose not.’ Flora suppressed a shiver at the thought of illness in
connection with their infant son, who enjoyed chubby, good health.
‘Charities are always looking for funds, so it stands to reason they might
regard Mr Ptolemy Harrington, Solicitor at Law, a viable proposition.’
‘I suppose that makes sense.’ Bunny joined her by the front door held
open by their butler. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go in the motor
car?’
‘It’s too late to change your mind.’ She nodded to where a square motor
taxi idled at the kerb. ‘The taxi is already here.’ Turning towards him, she
flicked a toast crumb from the corner of her husband’s mouth. He submitted
to the fuss, his downcast expression so like Arthur’s, she experienced an
urge to kiss him; an impulse she resisted with Stokes present. ‘Besides,
Southwark is not a suitable place to leave your beloved Aster, no matter
how many street urchins you pay to watch it.’
‘I suppose so.’ Bunny released a disappointed sigh and followed her
onto the top step. ‘Taxi it is then.’ He guided her through the front door
with a discreet but firm squeeze of her waist. Thankful her coiffure was
saved from Bunny’s enthusiasm for open air driving, Flora turned back at
the front gate, giving the house a slow, appraising glance of appreciative
pride.
The elegant Portland stone façade rose four floors from the street; a
brace of Doric pillars flanking a black front door. Behind black painted
railings, a set of stone steps descended into basement kitchens equipped
with the latest innovations; something Flora had insisted upon.
As a former
governess, she endeavoured to make her own servants’ lives easier; a
sentiment voiced in the presence of her mother-in-law, Beatrice Harrington;
whose resulting contempt still made Flora’s cheeks burn.
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