My mind preoccupied, I hardly heard a word of conversation during that meal. If I had been asked, I would not have been able to name a single dish I consumed. I declined to join them after supper was finished, wanting only my own company.
The fact that James Windibank sent a knowing look towards mother made me grit my teeth. Was he going to judge my every action from now on? The idea made me restless that night, and I didn't get any sleep.
Come morning, I'd decided to go about my day as if nothing had happened. I would, however, make my way to Baker Street, and beg Mr. Holmes to explain what had happened. Living my life under a threat was not acceptable.
I think I managed an air of normalcy when I joined Mother and James—after his absurd threat, I saw no reason to even think of him in a paternal role—for breakfast. My step-father was dressed for work, and he said nothing about the argument the previous evening. He did, however, eye me with a questioning expression.
"And what are your plans for today, Mary?" he asked.
"Oh, the usual. I am expected at the solicitor's office to type up some important documents," I said, picking up my cup of tea. "Perhaps this afternoon I will take a walk in one of the parks. If the weather is agreeable."
Was it my imagination, or did James flinch? "Mary, your mother and I worry your typing work is overworking you," he said. "Perhaps you should take a holiday from your hobby."
Raising an eyebrow, I sipped my tea before answering. "Mother said much the same thing yesterday," I said. "And if it really is such a concern to you both, I will accept your counsel on the matter. It would take only a moment for my solicitor to put my allowance for me so that I may purchase what I need."
Meaning, naturally, that Mother and James would no longer have access to my inheritance. It seemed that was all they wanted from me. Oh, why had Hosmer gone away without taking me with him?
"Mary, this independent, selfish attitude is very unlike you," James said, his brows drawing together with a frown. He turned to Mother. "My dear, perhaps we should have a doctor visit."
Not "we should have Dr. Thomas", the doctor who had tended us for years come to see me. A doctor. A doctor who would undoubtedly agree with what James thought.
Mother's eyes took on a worried expression and she shook her head. "Oh, dear, you may be right. But let's not jump to any hasty decisions."
If she had rediscovered some motherly concern, it was a feeble effort on her part. "I will gladly speak to Dr. Thomas, though having him come here would no doubt inconvenience him," I said brightly. "Perhaps instead of a walk in the park, I will stop at Dr. Thomas' office."
James' eyes narrowed. Did he think I just allow him to rule my life? Had he expected me to submit to his threats without fighting back? Did he think me completely stupid?
Well, I had some intelligence and more than a little self-preservation in my blood!
"No, no," he said. "As your mother said, none of us want to be hasty about anything." Despite his pleasant tone, he pointed a finger at me. "But do not forget what I said. Make no attempt to see that Holmes character."
"Have a good day, Mother," I said as I stood up. "I will see you this afternoon. Have a pleasant day at work, James."
It was the first time I had ever addressed him by his first name, and I felt rather bold. No more would I pretend this family was normal. No more would I pretend he was related to me in any way other than marriage.
The effect my words had was immediate. Mother gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. James' face paled, though, from the glint in his eyes, it was from anger and not shock.
"Mary, really" Mother started to say.
"I must be off," I said, raising my hand. I strode out of the room with all the confidence I possessed. After last night, I'd hoped rest would have calmed my stepfather's temper and bring a return of logic. I realized it had been a vain hope.
I pinned on my hat and buttoned up my coat. As I slipped on my gloves, I heard James leave the house. Or, at least, I assumed it was him from the way the front door slammed shut.
Breathing out, I made my way to the front of the house. Mother was there, wringing her hands. "My dear, I wish you wouldn't anger your father so much," she said. "He works so hard for us. The least we can do for him is to make sure home is calm and peaceful."
"I would be happy to oblige if he does not threaten me with doctors and asylums," I said bluntly. "I am as sane as anybody in this house."
"That is not so easily seen when all you do is talk of that Hosmer Angel. You seem to think you will see him again, and no one we know has ever seen this young man."
"You did," I said quietly, trying my best to hold back my temper.
"I will not corroborate or support your delusions, Mary," Mother said sharply. Her expression softened as she reached out to me. "Do you not see the danger you are in? You have overtaxed yourself and your poor mind is suffering."
"The only danger I am in is being extremely disappointed in my mother." I took a step back to avoid her touch. Why was Mother pretending she had never seen Mr. Angel when I could count half a dozen times when she had? Had James convinced her it would be better this way? If so, why?
Mother shook her head. "Please listen to reason, Mary."
"When what you say is reasonable, I will be happy to do so. Now I really must be on my way, Mother." I stepped around her and walked to the door.
"Well, you cannot say I didn't warn you," Mother said to my back.
Firmly, I closed the door. I took a moment to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I'd thought myself alone before I went to Mr. Holmes for assistance but now I felt it even more. What could I do though?
My mind went around and around on the problem as I set off along the sidewalk at a brisk pace. By the time I reached the solicitor's office, I hadn't come to any decision. As I sat at my typewriter, I hoped my work would provide some relief.
Mid-afternoon, I had completed typing up the documents Mr. Barrett required. I'd taken no time to even eat, so my stomach was protesting as I left the office. Overhead, the sun shone down weakly.
My first stop was at a tea shop for some refreshment. It was while I was sipping my tea and nibbling at the pastries that I gathered up my courage. What right did James Windibank have to tell me who I could or could not speak to? I'd asked Mr. Holmes to discover what had happened and I wanted to know what—if anything—he had learned.
A cab would have been faster, but I saw no need for urgency. The sooner I finished speaking to Mr. Holmes, the sooner I would have to return home. So, I walked from the tea shop in the direction of Baker Street.
It was while I was crossing the park that I happened to glance over my shoulder. Immediately, a man dodged to be out of sight. Unsettled, I continued on, making a left turn when I exited the park. I waited for several steps before I again looked back.
Again, a man dodged to hide behind a column. It was clear: he was following me.
I had no doubts my stepfather was responsible. James wanted to be certain I did not go to Baker Street. My steps slowed as I weighed my options. Part of me wanted to do as I had already decided, and hang the consequences James had threatened. The more reasonable part of me advised caution.
With a sigh, I changed my direction and set off for Dr. Thomas' office. Perhaps a few more days would make James drop his guard and I could slip away to Baker Street. I'd only seen a glimpse of my stepfather's temper, but I suspected his anger could be violent and I didn't feel brave enough to face it yet.
When I explained to Dr. Thomas that my mother worried I was overworking myself, he shook his head. "My dear Miss Sutherland," he said, "I suspect you could run circles around me with your energy and vitality. If you are feeling overworked, a day's rest will set you right."
Though I was pleased by his statement, I hesitated. "Then, you don't think I am in need of a stay at an...asylum?"
The doctor's brow furrowed. "That is an odd question."
"My stepfather suggested last night that I have been irrational and it would be for my own benefit to stay at such an institution," I explained. It was a gamble on my part to even mention my father's threat. He could deny it and then even dear Dr. Thomas would think I was paranoid. "You understand why I would be concerned."
"Mr. Windibank said that?" Dr. Thomas asked in surprise. "My, that sounds very unlike him. Were you suffering from a bad headache at the time? Feeling melancholy?"
"Not at all." My heart pounded in my ears as I waited for what he would say next. "I feel perfectly fine."
"Well, then, you must have misunderstood Mr. Windibank's words." Dr. Thomas sat back with a decisive nod. "From what I can see, you are of sound mind and body."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Doctor."
"I'm sure when you speak to your father tonight, you will find you have worried over nothing."
While I was by no means certain of that, I smiled and thanked the doctor for his time. To protest that my stepfather had definitely meant his words would only make me seem fretful. I left his office and set off down the street. When I glanced over my shoulder, I found my shadow still behind me.
How much was James paying him to follow me?
For a moment, I was distracted, wondering how one pursued a career at following people. Perhaps a former member of the constabulary? A detective like Mr. Holmes? Or was there more sinister employment I wasn't aware of?
Going straight home was a distasteful idea, so I just walked. I paused in front of the shop fronts to admire the displays. If someone was determined to follow me, I would make sure he earned his fee.
By the time I arrived home, my own feet had started to ache. It would only be an hour before James returned from work himself. Would he get his report from his conspirator before he came for supper or later?
"Mary, is that you?" Mother called from the parlor when I entered.
"Yes, Mother. I'm home," I said, pausing as I removed my coat and hat. Perhaps the next day I would be able to make it to Baker Street.