☆ ᴡᴀᴛᴛʏꜱ 2024 SHORTLISTER!! ☆
A tragic misunderstanding. A murder. A secret. An unlikely partnership. A spirited countess and an enterprising racketeer.
~~~
Manchester, England. May 1925.
The Roarin' 20s. An era of glamor, decadent parties, jazz mus...
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Teddy's plea and forlorn expression remained in the forefront of Rose's mind all the way to St. Mary's Catholic Church.
William's driver dropped her off, and less than ten minutes later she was ladling soup into bowls beneath the sanctuary.
“Not too fast this time, Henrik,” she said to a skinny Russian man of about sixty years of age. “Remember what happened with the potato leek last week. I'd prefer not to pound you on the back again.”
Henrik chuckled and relented in Russian, “Ya znayu, ya znayu…”
“What was that?” Rose asked, raising a cheeky eyebrow. “Are you arguing with me?”
“Not so, Miss Rose,” he swore in his heavily accented English. “I never argue with beautiful woman. You are right: eat slowly, don't choke.” He made a sound that resembled both a cough and a chuckle.
“Just so, you old charmer,” Rose agreed with a smile. She added another piece of bread to his plate. He wouldn't be in full health unless he managed to gain some weight. “Enjoy.”
“Spasibo,” Henrik said, thanking her in Russian. Plate in hand, he wandered away to take a seat with the others.
“Miss Rose!” a woman's voice called out.
Rose glanced over her shoulder at the speaker. Her heart sank. It was Anya. Anya had escaped St. Petersburg at the same time as Dmitri and the two had become friends. She knew Rose had gotten Dmitri the job at Warwick Hall and would be expecting a progress report.
“Anya, how are you?” Rose asked, forcing her brightest smile onto her face. She hoped it looked genuine. “Soup?”
Anya took a small helping, but her expression showed little interest in the food. “Any news? On Dmitri?”
“Well,” Rose said, not meeting her eye. “I'm in contact with his employer, William Mercer. But Dmitri is no longer at the estate. Mr. Mercer and his staff are under the impression that Dmitri took off.”
“Took off?!” Anya cried. She expelled a long series of Russian words that Rose suspected were mostly curses. “Where would he go?”
“I asked the same question,” Rose assured her. “Don't worry, Anya. Whatever the truth, I'm going to keep digging until I discover exactly what happened. This is far from over. And the moment I have an answer, I'll let you know.”
Oh, such false promises. She already knew the answer, but she couldn't bring herself to utter the words aloud. Not to Anya, nor to Daphne. One day at Warwick Hall and Rose was already a liar.
【♖】
After assisting the other volunteers with a post-lunch tidy up, Rose decided to visit Daphne. She already missed her cousin, and now that she knew what her first ‘assignment’ for William would be, she ought to quench the thirst of mystery and put Daphne's mind at ease. And perhaps ask some questions while she was at it.
