Pinch of Arsenic

Chapter 7

The next day, Lavinia took Mr. Jarvis and Uncle Henry to see her parents' lawyer: the former as brawn and the latter as brains.

Mr. Jarvis waited outside the office as the lady and her uncle entered the room

"Good afternoon," the lawyer, Mr. Wright, said.

The two sat in the chairs in front of Mr. Wright, and Lavinia replied with a good afternoon as well.

Throughout the appointment, Lord Henry behaved with more grace towards his niece. Not because he had an audience, he couldn't care less about that, but because he felt pity.

The uncle glanced at Lavinia who chewed on her lip. With this, Lord Henry took on the responsibility of explaining the situation. Mr. Wright wore a baffled expression from beginning to end and blinked a couple of times to find his thoughts.

"So you want to remove your family from the will?"

"Mm-mhm," Lavinia said, "if I were to die before I marry, which I hope is unlikely, I want all my inheritance to go to the orphanages."

With more information, Mr. Wright drafted and finalized her will for if she died. The idea of having to plan what would happen if and when she died made Lavinia a little fidgety but in the end, the new clauses did make her feel safer. Her death would have no benefit within her family. Now she just had to hope an overzealous philanthropist didn't poison her.

In the carriage back to her house, her uncle said, "I still don't think this was the smartest choice."

"It shouldn't matter because I don't plan on dying soon, and if murderous tendencies run in the family, I won't have to worry about you or my Aunt Emilia." She meant to be lighthearted, but perhaps she shouldn't jest about being murdered so soon after.

"I think I'm going to move back to the country," she added, "at least for now."

His tophat bobbed as he nodded with approval. "That sounds peaceful."

"Mm-mhm. I just want to get away from everyone and the questions. If I was a spectator like the rest of London, I would want to know every horrifying detail, so I think my best chance is to simply get away."

"You can also stay with us, too, if you would like. My wife and the kids would like having you around."

Lavinia's lips quirked into a small smile, "I'll think about it, thank you."

The turn of the corner into another street called to Lavinia's memory. Ansel's office.

"Stop," she called out to the coach.

The coach obeyed, and the uncle raised a questioning brow.

"The detective who helped me works here," she explained, "Mr. Linton."

"Are you going to pay him?"

"Yes,"

The uncle straightened his cane to stand up, "I'll go with you then."

"No, no. No need. You've been a great help, I can do this alone."

Lord Henry nodded and settled back into his seat. If he had the observant eye of a well-seasoned gossip, he would have noticed that his niece carried no reticule or checkbook.

As she climbed up, Lavinia didn't know why she made her coach stop or what she was going to do. Improvisation was key.

She knocked and heard Ansel call out, "Coming!"

He shuffled loudly inside his office.

A flurry of papers later, he opened the door.

"Hi." She smiled.