Chapter 95: Dead man walking (5)
Clara must have been waiting for me eagerly. As the coachman helped me down, she stood at the front door without a coat. Winter in London is harsher than expected, with unmelted snow still piled up around the garden. I was shocked to see Clara standing there so fearlessly.
“Clara! What month is it? And you’re dressed like that?”
“I was waiting for you, Honey.”
Pouting and wrapping her arms around herself, she looked so adorable that I couldn’t bring myself to scold her any further. Instead, I burst out laughing. ‘Honey’ was a pet name Clara had given me, one she only used when we were alone. Clearly, she was in a playful mood. Her hands were like ice.
“Weren’t you cold? You should have worn something!”
“A friend is coming over. As if the cold could stop Clara Barnum! Impossible.”
She confidently flipped her short hair and smiled. I rubbed her cold hands and led her inside. To be honest, Clara looked more in need of a fireplace than a meal right now. A glass of brandy would do her good.
“Wow.”
As soon as we opened the door, a rush of warm air enveloped us. My ears, which had been exposed to the cold, tingled as the warmth touched them. The biting winter wind seemed to fall away. But then, I was taken aback by the scene inside. The interior of the house had completely changed. I remembered visiting this place several times before. Clara’s home used to be elegantly furnished with French-imported furniture, renowned for its lovely patterns and delicate decorations. Now, most of the furniture was made of heavy wood.