Nooks & Crannies by Jessica Lawson Page A

reference.”
    Tabitha wondered how good of a friend King Edward could be to the Countess, and whether he knew that she kept knives on her person at all times.
    â€œBut why didn’t anyone tell us we were adopted?” Viola asked.
    Mrs. Dale squeezed Viola’s hand and looked at the other mothers with empathy. “I’m sure that some of you know the pain of not being able to carry a child. There’s no shame in not wanting the whole world to know your business.”
    Mrs. Appleby nodded and reached for her husband’s hand. “We went to the Continent for a year,” she said quietly. “Lawrence came back to get Oliver and then we stayed in Europe until our boy was one. Not a soul except the woman at Basil House knew he wasn’t ours.” She cleared her throat. “But he is ours now, and we’ll need more time getting to know you before Oliver is left here for an entire summer.”
    Mrs. Herringbone raised a hand. “I’m sorry, Your Ladyship, but I agree with the Applebys.” She turned to Edward and squeezed his hand. “Oh, my dear boy,” she said, gesturing to the Dales. “Our best friends in the world adopted a child at Basil House and suggested we do the same. We wanted you and Viola to grow up together, so we picked children of similar age. And we didn’t tell either of you about the adoption because there can be a silly stigma associated with that sort of thing and it really doesn’t matter. You are my son, Edward.”
    The Countess fiddled with the stays on her handbag and gave an odd chirped laugh. “Oh, let’s all just relax! Details can be worked out on Sunday. I’m a flexible woman, and I’m sure we’ll all end up with exactly what we want. Cook! Dessert!” She smiled once more. “This is a celebration.”
    â€œShe’s right,” Mr. Appleby said, patting his wife on the hand and nodding at Oliver. “We seem to have forgotten our manners, Your Ladyship.” He stood and raised his champagne. “Glasses up once more, everyone.” He waited for the room to follow suit. “To the Countess of Windermere!”
    The room echoed him.
    â€œTo one hundred thousand pounds!” cried Mrs. Trundle.
    Agnes walked in with a tray of gorgeous raspberry tortes, fruit sorbet, and pistachio ice. The Countess mingled among the parents and children, touching arms and patting heads, and once more the dining room became an enchanted place.
    Tabitha looked at her parents, who were deep in discussion, with no indication that they needed her consultation. They, unlike the others, had not worn expressions of hesitant giddiness at any point during the trust fund announcement, which probably meant one thing: the Crums were absolutely certain that they wouldn’t be coming into any money.
    â€œI’ll just visit the loo,” she told them, leaving the room humming with excited, tense whispers behind her. She heard a small whisper of her own. It called to her faintly from somewhere between her heart and her mind.
    There are far worse things than no longer having a family.
    â€œWhy, Pemberley,” she whispered, drawing the mouse from her pocket, “wouldn’t they ever have taken one from Basil House?”
    Tabitha knew any thought of earning her parents’ love was slim, but still she had tried. She had tried very hard. And buried far beneath her need to be part of a family, her desire to be loved, and her frustration at not being able to earn that love, was another feeling that she couldn’t quite place. It sent hot bursts of blood from her heart to her toes and fingertips. The rogue feeling threatened to rush out and show itself in an uncontrolled manner, but Tabitha took a deep breath and made a logical and concerted effort to push all emotions aside.
    A proper Inspector had no room for feelings. Tabitha had no inkling of being anything special and doubted she was related to the