Moonlight Secrets (#2 Penderry's Bizarre)

Chapter Nine

For the first time since Bunny arrived in England, the sun showed its face, low and bright over the Westminster rooftops. Ribbons of smoke puffed from the chimney stacks, twirling on the northern breeze. Now and then, pedestrians passed by, their faces tucked down inside thick knitted scarves. Bunny's button-up boots fell in step with Jim's polished shoes. Or perhaps it was the other way around. The fresh snow underfoot twinkled and crunched.

"What do you think of England?" he asked.

"Honestly? Cold, strange and no joy at all. My uncle hasn't been very welcoming, which is odd because he used to be such a happy soul."

He glanced at her and offered his elbow, out of good manners, she supposed. Not wanting to offend him, she slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.

"What happened to him?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, but the Carte family had something to do with it."

Surprise crossed his face. "Indeed?"

"He says they took everything from him. It's such a pity. He's nothing like the man I remember. I wish I knew how to help him."

"Your family isn't having much luck. This way. There's a cab-stand on the Victoria embankment. It's only a twenty-minute walk. I must say I'm surprised you came without your chaperone."

"Anju was asleep. I didn't have the heart to disturb her."

"You appear to be close."

"I've known Anju a long time. When she was orphaned, she came to live with my father's cook and his wife at our home. We played together, explored outside the cantonment. She's the kindest person I know." She glanced at him. "How is your eye now?"

"Much better. Am I fit to be seen in public?"

She looked at the bruise, a faint ring of mottled green. "Of course."

"That will please my grandmother. For a while I had the perfect excuse to avoid her Valentine soiree."

"What's that?"

"Why, a party for Valentine's day, of course."

"Well, what's that?"

His head snapped in her direction. "Valentine's Day?"

"Is it some sort of festival?"

He smiled. "Yes. Every year, on the fourteenth day of February, we celebrate the Feast of Saint Valentine. It's considered a romantic day. Lovers express their feelings for each other with flowers, chocolates, greetings cards and that sort of thing."

"How sweet."

"My grandmother is hosting an event. There will be a piano recital, poetry readings, all in a romantic vein. I suppose I ought to attend for Freddie's sake."

"Your friend, Mr Westman?"

"Yes. My grandmother pounced on the poor fellow with an invitation and he couldn't say no."

She listened to him with an indulgent smile, shivering. The wool of his coat sleeve was warm and bobbly under her hand. She drew closer.

"Valentine's Day sounds nice," she said. "Perhaps there is a pleasant side to your country after all."

"It's your country too, Miss Spencer."

"My friends call me Bunny."

The sun glinted in his eyes when he looked at her. "Very well, Bunny. My friends call me a lot of things, most are too offensive to repeat."