I watched Jack standing by the door, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, including me. If he knew he was being ogled, he didn't show it. His ignorance didn't last long, however. A woman shopping with her daughter approached, smiling like a clown at a circus.
"Excuse me, but you're Mr. Bellamy, aren't you?" she said to Jack.
He bowed. "No, madam. My name is Langley."
The woman's smile didn't waver. "Indeed? I do apologize. You resemble my friend Bellamy to a certain degree."
"I'm sure he doesn't," Sylvia muttered.
"You think she lied?" I whispered back.
"If Bellamy were indeed her friend, she'd know what he looked like."
"Then why the ruse?"
"She has a daughter of marriageable age." She nodded at the girl of seventeen or so who observed her mother out of the corner of her eye. "They probably think Jack is a potential suitor, and the mother wants to be the first of her acquaintance to engage his interest. Keep listening."
A shop girl approached and Sylvia left me to be shown some hats at the back. I continued to watch Jack from beneath lowered lashes as I strolled between tables and hat stands.
"You must be new to London, Mr. Langley," the woman said. "I've never seen you at any of the parties."
"I come to the city rarely, and only for business. I live in Hertfordshire, madam, with my uncle, August Langley."
A small crease connected her thin eyebrows. "That name sounds familiar. Where in Hertfordshire is your uncle's house, Mr. Langley? Perhaps that will refresh my memory."
"Frakingham House, near Harborough."
The woman's mouth pursed as if she'd tasted something bitter. "Oh." She stepped away. "Good day to you, sir. My apologies for mistaking you for my friend. I can see now that you're nothing like Mr. Bellamy." She scuttled away and rejoined her daughter.
"Mama?" the girl whispered. "What's wrong?"
The mother's voice was too low for me to hear her entire answer. The only words I could make out were "Freak House." It was enough to explain her change in behavior.
Sylvia bought two hats in different shades of gray, and Jack carried the boxes out to the carriage and bundled them into the storage compartment with the others. "Satisfied now, Cousin?" he asked Sylvia as he settled opposite us on the seat.
"Why are those women looking at us like we have two heads?" she said.
I followed her gaze to the woman who'd questioned Jack and her daughter. They did indeed eye us from beneath their hat brims. "You were right about them," I told her. "The mother wished to throw her daughter into Jack's path at any parties he might deign to attend."
Jack rolled his eyes.
"Yes, but why does she look as if she wants to run in the other direction to get away from us?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you say to her?"
"Nothing," he said. "I gave her my name and place of residence, that's all."
Sylvia flounced back into the seat and crossed her arms. "How could you?" One corner of his mouth lifted and her glare sharpened. "It's not amusing."
"I'm sorry," he said, sobering. "I know it matters to you. I just wish you knew that they don't matter to me."
"What doesn't?" I said. "I don't understand."
"Whenever we go anywhere, which isn't often, Jack likes to tell people where we're from."
"It's called introducing myself, Syl. It's what people do when they meet."
"Yes, but can't you lie? Why do you have to tell them we're from Frakingham?"
"Because we are. The sooner you come to accept that, the happier you'll be."
"I doubt I could ever be happy to be associated with Freak House."
Jack looked quite unnerved by her misery. "Those people aren't for the likes of us," he said quietly.
"You shouldn't let them bother you," I said to her. "I agree with Jack. They don't seem like the sort of people you'd want to be friends with anyway."
"That's easy for you to say. You and Jack are the freaks. I'm the freak by association. It's not fair."
Her remark cut through me to the bone. I'd thought we'd become friends of sorts, but to say something so offhandedly callous proved there was still an ocean of differences between us. She was right, of course. I wasn't normal. Now I knew I was also very much alone.
We arrived at Claridges, and instead of coming inside with us, Jack bid us farewell. "I'm going for a walk," he said.
"Where to?" Sylvia asked.
"Nowhere in particular. I need to stretch my legs."
"You've been walking all day."
"You object to me wanting to spend some time alone?"