How to find a Husband while Solving a Murder - chapter 2

Chapter Two 

Harriet held the fat baby in her arms and gave it her finger to clutch.  It grinned at her, showing all two of her teeth, as if it had wind of what she had come about. 

Her sister, Elizabeth sat opposite holding onto a wriggling two year old but still managed to adopt an air of one posing to have her portrait painted. 

As Harriet gazed at the walls, she was reminded that Elizabeth had had plenty of practise at that: each wall held a portrait of Elizabeth with her flawless skin, glossy brown hair and unusual grey eyes which made most men either cough or blush.  

“Randolph is a marvel with his brushes, is he not?” Elizabeth waved her free hand at the portraits.

Harriet nodded. “Your husband is very talented, but lucky to have such a beautiful sitter.” Harriet waited, she had hit the mark. Elizabeth gave her the smile of approval which she had practised so often when they were girls.

“If only the world would not be so blind to dear Randolph’s talents. We should be living in luxury instead of having to beg father for every crust of bread.” Elizabeth lifted her hand to her brow and held it for a moment across her forehead.

Harriet glanced around the room at the velvet drapes, the marble fireplace with the leaping flames, silver photograph frames by the dozen and the many porcelain figures which decorated it and felt reassured that she had come to one who could upset father for a week with one forbidding letter.  A maid entered the room struggling with an overloaded tray holding a coffee pot, cups, tiny sandwiches, cakes and a plate of biscuits.  She left the tray on the table, bobbed at Elizabeth and scuttled out.

“Harriet, you have no idea what I have to put up with.  Look, she has forgotten the cream again.”  The child wriggled from Elizabeth’s arms and lay on the floor rolling around. 

“Do tell me when you have had enough of the children, Harriet. They are wearing me out.” Elizabeth stared at her daughter as if she wondered what she was. “I really shouldn’t have to put up with all of this. Five servants, that is all father will pay for.”

Harriet shook her head and attempted to look dismayed at Elizabeth’s situation.  In reality, she could not wait to grab the opportunity which had arisen. 

“Would you mind attending to it, Jane, and take Charlotte with you.”   Harriet waited until Jane bounced out of the room with the small child firmly in tow.  She really must stop considering that her companion bounced, although that is what she did, she seemed to spring up from the balls of her feet as she walked. 

Harriet silently chided herself for letting her mind wander – as if she didn’t have enough to think about with the ‘Ill Rabbit’ and father’s tawdry behaviour with Mrs Stoker. Harriet bit down on her lip; she could suffer her corset being tightened until her eyes popped out of her sockets but she would never, ever breathe a word of what happened in that study to anyone.

Harriet opened her mouth to turn the conversation around to her marriage to the Ill Rabbit but it seemed that Elizabeth had not exhausted her favourite subject. 

Elizabeth’s eyes shone as she went into details of how Randolph spoke of her redeeming features while painting her.  Harriet knew that she should be paying attention to the merits of Elizabeth’s left nostril but as she heard the drone of Elizabeth’s voice in the background she noticed the teaspoon lift up and tap itself against the side of the cup. 

Harriet glanced at Elizabeth to see if she had noticed but she was still clasping her hands to her full bosom and praising Randolph’s attention to her inner goddess which radiated through the portraits.