Free The End of Innocence by Allegra Jordan Page A

Wils’s own father had died. Wils’s father had been a great poet and a good man. My cousin felt his loss keenly.”
    Helen was confused. “How are you cousins with Mr. Brandl? I thought you were British.”
    â€œMy mother is German. Her formidable sister is Wils’s mother.”
    â€œHow is Wils dealing with the news?”
    â€œI don’t know. Things have been nasty since we came back from summer holiday, but we thought it would pass. And now I’m not certain. I’m a bit concerned, not least because I live with Wils and a murderer is on the loose.” He set his jaw and shook his head. “Damned unpleasant business.” Riley peered into an open box on the table beside him. “What is this?” he asked, lifting out a volume. “ Little Women . What’s that about?”
    â€œA family of sisters whose father is at war.”
    â€œDo you like it?”
    â€œEvery woman does.”
    â€œShould every man?”
    â€œI don’t know any man who has read it.” She laughed, watching him fidget with the book.
    â€œPerhaps the girls find their peace,” Riley said, then shivered as if shaking off a bad thought. He put the book back and paced nervously. “We all are called to find our own peace when war intrudes so on our lives.” He walked over to her window seat and looked out. “An excellent window,” he said, his eyes suddenly lighting up. “You could put a ladder up here and escape anytime you needed to.”
    She felt her cheeks go pink. “There will be no ladders of any kind put under that window.”
    He gave a soft laugh and looked back. “Miss Brooks, from the looks of it I’ve arrived too late to be of use in hauling your boxes, and I’ve no interest in Miss Lowell’s—”
    Before he could finish his sentence, they heard steps pounding in the hallway. Into the room burst Miss Sullivan, her large face red, her curls untamed and hostile.
    â€œRiley Spencer!”
    â€œMiss Sullivan.”
    The woman’s small dark eyes darted around the room. “I heard you were in the building.”
    â€œI was just leaving.”
    â€œI’ll not have you here, not even for moving day.” She gave Helen a stern look. “Miss Brooks, your grandmother and mother would probably prefer you kept your moving to your own family.”
    Helen’s face went bright red. “He’s doing me a great favor, Miss Sullivan, as my own brother seems to have left me here. I’ve a problem returning rudeness for kindness.”
    â€œI’m sure you do, Miss Brooks,” she said, her hands on her ample hips. “But you don’t know his history. After today, no men are allowed in Longworth Hall.” She poked a meaty finger at him and glared. “Especially not you. Do you understand me?”
    â€œPerfectly,” said Riley. He returned her contemptuous glare. “Miss Brooks, perhaps we will continue our conversation at a different time.”
    â€œWait, Riley—”
    â€œLet him go,” said Miss Sullivan, standing in front of Helen as Riley walked out the door. “You’ll not be seen with that young man as long as I have something to say about what goes on under this roof. If I see him back here, I’ll be obliged to write your father. He’s no good for a woman like yourself.” She turned on her heel and left the room.
    Helen was aghast. How rude! How could someone do such a thing in polite company? He’d done nothing wrong, and yet he’d been treated abominably. Her frustration over everything—her fear of class, the murder-suicide, even the dusty carpets—erupted into defiance.
    She ran to her window and saw Riley below, walking to the curb. “Riley, wait!” she called. “Riley!”
    He looked up and around, then waved. “Miss Brooks? Do you need a ladder after all?”
    She laughed. “Would you like to come