Was it just me or was this section a bit boring? Just a lot of Robert running around.
Chapter 10: Missing
After Robert wakes up from his afternoon nap and discovers George missing, he starts searching for him. He didn’t eat dinner, and the last person to have seen him was a servant at Audley Court. Robert even tries the train station, but asking after a white dude with a beard probably doesn’t narrow it down. He assumes George left for London. Did George leave his stuff behind? I don’t remember that being mentioned. If you assume your friend would leave town without leaving a note, maybe you need new friends.
Chapter 11: The Mark Upon My Lady’s Hand
Back at Audley Court, Lady Audley is twirling herself on a piano stool and admiring the sables Robert brought her. She makes the Kardashians look like German philosophers (see what I did there, readalongers). And, oh my God, she can’t cut her own meat at dinner! Seriously!
A couple things about Lady Audley are revealed:
-There was no governess at the address Lucy claimed the lady lived. I thought this was clever of her. She just made up an address and went there knowing the people their wouldn’t know what she was talking about.
-She’s so delicate a ribbon she tied around her wrist left bruises. Bruises shaped like fingers, one finger with a ring. That lie is not fooling anyone, sister.
Chapter 12: Still Missing
In London, no sign of George is present at their apartment and the landlady never saw him. Conveniently though, his father-in-law had a visit from him, or so he says, and George never spoke to his son. What lies! George Jr does mention a ‘pretty lady’ who visits him. I wonder who that is.
A Clue! A half burned telegram. I think it was sent from Lady Audley: “If anyone asks, George went to Liverpool and sailed for Sydney, but really I pushed him down a well.”
Chapter 13: Troubled Dreams
Robert is psychic now. He has dreams of Lady Audley rising from Helen’s grave, her ringlets turning to snakes. That’s a bit much Braddon. He’s woken by mysterious knocking on the door that he never answers.
Robert finds that George never went to Liverpool and makes a list of facts around George’s disappearance. He’s starting to see that Lucy might be involved in it.
Chapter 14: Phoebe’s Suitor
Back at Audley Court, Alicia and Lucy snipe at one another. Without any friends, Lucy confides in Phoebe.
Braddon drops this little nugget:
But there were certain dim and shadowy lights in which, meeting Phoebe Marks gliding softly through the dark oak passages of the Court, or under the shrouded avenues in the garden, you might have easily mistaken her for my lady.
Okay. I hope there is a point to that.
Lady Audley then makes reference to some French story she read about a noblewoman who committed a horrible crime and is punished for it in her later years. I feel like Braddon is trolling us.
Lucy and Phoebe discuss the horrible Luke. He sounds like a winner. Phoebe thinks he’s capable of murder and yet she’s afraid not to marry him. Anyway, Phoebe told Luke something about Lady Audley because he blackmails her for 100 pounds. What could it be?!
Chapter 15: On the Watch
Phoebe marries the disgusting Luke in the saddest ceremony ever. This guy can’t even stop bitching at her on her wedding day, but at least he’s happy with his inn. It sounds like the tavern of the damned.
Robert is back with “half a dozen French novels, a case of cigars, and three pounds of Turkish tobacco…” Ah, to be a rich single dude. What are French novels? Are they just novels or is this a euphemism for p*rn?
Alicia has just about had it with him, and yells at him before informing him that she has a new suitor: Sir Harry Towers. Robert remains completely clueless. This whole subplot is yawn.
Meanwhile, Robert watches Lady Audley as he explains circumstantial evidence in reference to George’s disappearance. This is so Law & Order. Lucy faints! What an admission of guilt!
Inside Lucy’s head
I’m hoping at this point that Lady Audley didn’t kill George because it is just too obvious. Braddon practically draws us a picture of the murder. She’s not Agatha Christie, unless this is a red herring. It’s got to be a giant red herring, right?