Silent In The Grave Read Online Free PDF Page A

with which to reproach yourself. You told me at the time that you had doubts. I am the one who insisted.”
    He nodded. “Yes, but I have often thought in the years since that I should have done more to prevent it.”
    A thought struck me then. “Have you talked about it? Within the family?” I remembered Beatrice, bent stiffly over her needlework, not meeting my eyes.
    “Yes. Your sisters were concerned for you, especially Bee. The two of you were always so close, I suppose she could sense your unhappiness. She said you never confided in her. I knew that if you had not broached the subject to her or to Portia, that you had not spoken to any of your sisters.”
    “No, Nerissa is not an easy confidante. Nor Olivia, for that matter. Perfection is a chilly companion.”
    He grinned in spite of himself. “They can be a bit much, I suppose. But, child, if you were truly unhappy, you should have come to us, any of us.”
    “To what purpose? I am a March. Divorce would have been out of the question. I offered to release Edward from his marital obligations, but he would not hear of it. So why speak of it at all? Why air our soiled linen for the whole family to see?”
    “Because it might have eased your loneliness,” he said gently. “Did you never speak to Griggs?”
    I put my cup down. I had no taste for the tea now. It had gone bitter in my mouth. “I did. There was nothing to be done. A bit of a shock, really, coming from a family as prolific as ours. You would have thought I could have managed at least one.”
    Silence fell again, and Father and I both resumed our teacups. It gave us something to do at least. I offered him another scone and he fed Crab a bit of seedcake.
    “So, do you mean to keep Valerius with you at Grey House?” he asked finally. I was relieved at the change in subject, but only just. Val was a very sore point with Father and I knew I had best tread carefully.
    “For a while at least. And the Ghoul, as well. Aunt Hermia is concerned about the propriety of my sharing a house with Val and Simon without a proper chaperone.”
    Father snorted. “Simon is bedridden. His infirmity alone should be sufficient chaperone.”
    I shrugged. “No matter. Aunt Ursula has actually been rather helpful. As soon as she realized that Simon was not expected to live, she settled right in. She reads to him and brings him jellies from the kitchens. They are quite cozy together.”
    “And Val?” he persisted. “How does he fit into your little menagerie?”
    “He comes and goes—goes mostly. I do not see much of him, but that suits us both. And when he is at home, his is quite good company.”
    Father’s brows lifted. “Really? You surprise me.”
    “Well, he stays in his room and leaves me to myself. He doesn’t demand to be entertained. I don’t think I could bear that.”
    “Is he still pursuing his studies?”
    I chose my words deliberately. Val’s insistence upon studying medicine had been the source of most of his considerable troubles with Father. Had he wanted theoretical knowledge, or even a physician’s license, Father might have approved. But becoming a surgeon was no gentleman’s wish for his son. It would put Val beyond the pale socially, and close any number of doors for him.
    “I am not certain. As I said, I see little of him.”
    “Hmm. And what is his diagnosis of Simon’s condition?” The words were laced with sarcasm, but lightly. Perhaps having Val out of the house was softening his stance.
    “Val has not seen him, not medically. Simon is attended by Doctor Griggs. It was only at Griggs’ insistence that Simon did not come to the funeral. He would have had himself propped in a Bath chair, but Griggs was afraid the damp air would be too much for him. He continues the same. His heart is failing. It will probably be a matter of months, a year at most, before we bury him as well.”
    “Has he made his peace with that?”
    “I do not know. We have not spoken of it. There will be