Quicksilver - Amanda Quick [119]
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll both fit right in.”
FORTY-SEVEN
What was Papa like?” Elizabeth asked.
Virginia put her teacup gently down on the delicate china saucer. She thought for a moment. “While you do not remember Papa at all, my own memories of him amount to little more than fragments of a photograph. The only reason I can recall what he actually looked like is because I do have a photograph that was taken the year that he and my mother died.”
Virginia had arrived at the Mansfield house a short time earlier. She had sent around a note declining Helen’s offer of the Mansfield carriage. Instead, Owen had escorted her in a Sweetwater carriage. He was now waiting for her in the park across the street.
When she had been ushered into the elegant drawing room, Helen and Elizabeth greeted her. Virginia had not been surprised to discover that Helen did not really want to consult about a mirror reading.
“Elizabeth wants to talk to you,” she had said. “I hope you will be kind enough to answer her questions.”
Virginia had expected Elizabeth to ask questions about her talent. Instead, the girl wanted to know about their father.
“I have a photograph, too,” Elizabeth said. “It was taken on my parents’ wedding day. Papa looks quite handsome.”
Virginia thought about her own precious photo. “Yes, he was a fine-looking man. But what I remember is the energy around him. When he walked into a room, people were immediately aware of him. They greeted him warmly. Everyone wanted to be his friend. For his part he was gracious to one and all, high and low.”
Helen paused her teacup in midair. A wistful smile fluttered around her lips. “That’s true. Robert always treated those who served him with respect. They, in turn, would have done anything for him.”
Elizabeth sat forward eagerly. “What else do you remember about him, Miss Dean?”
Virginia smiled. “Please call me Virginia.”
Elizabeth brightened. “Thank you. And you must call me Elizabeth. Everyone else does, and you are, after all, my sister.”
Virginia waited for Helen to dispute the relationship, but she said nothing. She took another sip of tea instead, and waited for Virginia to continue.
“Very well, then, Elizabeth,” Virginia said. She thought for a moment. “Your father—”
“Our father,” Elizabeth insisted.
“Yes,” Virginia said. “Papa was always cheerful. I do not recall him ever losing his temper. When he came to see us he brought me presents.”
There was no need to explain that the small gifts were intended as silent apologies for all the broken promises and all the times that he had failed to visit.
“Did he take you to fairs and museums?” Elizabeth asked.
A forgotten memory flitted through Virginia’s head. “I remember a trip to a museum when I was your age. Papa wanted to show me some artifacts that he believed were infused with paranormal energy.”
“That must have been exciting,” Elizabeth said.
“It was. That was the day he told me that I had a baby sister. He said that he looked forward to showing you the artifacts when you were old enough to sense the energy in them. He said the paranormal was part of our heritage and that we should understand it.”
“He talked about me?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, yes,” Virginia said. “He was very fond of you.” She looked at Helen. “And of your mother, too. He was proud of you both.”
Helen raised her brows at that.
Virginia smiled at her. “It’s true. As my mother once told me, in his own way, Papa loved both of his families.”
Virginia took her leave a half hour later. Helen saw her to the door.
“I hope you will come back to visit Elizabeth again soon, Miss Dean,” she said. “Please know that you are welcome in this house at any time.”
“That is very kind of you, madam.”
“Call me Helen,” she said.
“You must call me Virginia, as Elizabeth does.”
The butler opened the front door. Virginia was surprised when Helen followed her onto the front step and out of earshot of the servant.
“He was not a bad or evil man, was he?” Helen said quietly.
“No,” Virginia said. “Papa enjoyed life.”
“Perhaps to excess,” Helen