Chapter Twenty-Six

Kit was anxious as she waited for Jess to return from London, jumping every time the wind blew a bit too loudly around the corner of the house or whenever a child closed a door with a bit too much force.

And then Jess was there, striding into the kitchen and making bread as if she’d never been gone.

Kit bit her tongue between her teeth while the children filed through and scattered to their respective chores. Even Daphne hurried them along a bit more than normal, asking Sarah and Eugenia to take the littlest ones with them as they dusted the main floor.

Once the women were alone, Kit and Daphne pounced.

“What happened?”

“What did they say?”

“Did you actually get to meet The Committee?”

“What about the rumors? Did you learn anything about those?”

Jess lifted two chunks of raw bread dough and shoved them into Kit and Daphne’s mouths. As they both sputtered and spit the yeasty mess onto the floor, Jess returned to calmly kneading her dough. “If you’ll both hush, I’ll tell you how it went.”

Kit and Daphne plopped onto stools across the worktable from Jess, mouths shut.

“First of all, I wouldn’t go see Nash for a while. He’s rather upset at you.”

Kit grimaced. She’d known he was going to be. He had every right to be.

Jess took a deep breath. “Second, there is certainly someone looking for The Governess, and they aren’t being particularly quiet about it, at least not in the alleys. I doubt much is being said in the ballrooms, but it’s only a matter of time before that changes. Despite all the questions, no one seems to be getting any answers.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Daphne asked.

Jess nodded. “What’s also good is that with more people curious about it, no one is going to want to admit they know anything. Simply possessing knowledge makes you guilty, in this case.”

Kit nearly fell off the stool as tension she hadn’t known she’d been holding relaxed its grip on her spine. “We’re fairly safe, then. As long as no one we’ve worked with talks, no one will know anything.”

“What about Priscilla?” Daphne asked. “Is The Committee going to do anything to help us find her?”

Jess nodded. “I have to say I’m rather impressed with the group of women Margaretta works with. I knew of a few of them while I was in London. Good hearts, the lot of them.”

“Of course they are,” Daphne said. “Margaretta would hardly trust even part of our secret to someone unworthy. And all one has to do is look at the women they’ve chosen to send us. Every last one of them was lost and alone and . . . and . . .” Daphne’s words trailed away as her breath shuddered in her chest. A few tears leaked out, but then she took a deep breath and held her hands out. “No. I’m well. Please continue, Jess.”

Jess pounded the bread dough for a few moments while Daphne took another deep breath or two. “The Committee will let us know if Priscilla’s name is spoken anywhere in London, even if the rumor doesn’t appear to have anything to do with the situation. She’s nearly five months along, but it’s possible her dresses will still hide the change in her figure. If they hear of anyone seeing her, they’ll let us know.”

“That’s something at least,” Kit said. “I don’t suppose there’s much else they could do.”

“We could contact Graham.” Daphne looked carefully at something beyond Kit’s shoulder, her eyes wide in innocence. “He’d be able to tell us if she contacts Lord Farnsworth.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Jess said with an impish grin aimed straight at Kit. “One of The Committee members assured me she’d know if Lord Farnsworth heard anything. She seemed to be the one in charge of the group, actually. It was her house where Margaretta and I met with everyone.”

Kit’s last hope that she would somehow find an excuse to seek out Graham faded away, which was probably for the best in spite of how she missed him. The dream of him joining their work at the manor and courting her in earnest was simply going to have to remain a scenario she imagined in her weakest moments.

It wasn’t as if it could have ever come true, anyway. The man was an aristocrat, a peer, one of the blessed few who made up the cream of London society. He was handsome, had a title, would one day be required to take his place in Parliament. He couldn’t hide away in the woods with her.

“I suppose it would make sense for The Committee to be somewhat connected to the families,” Kit said, proud that there was no tremble in her words to betray her fading hopes. “I mean, they’d have to hear about the girls in trouble somehow, right?”

“They are most certainly connected,” Jess said as she molded the bread into a ball and dropped it into a bowl, a grin still creasing one cheek. “Lord Farnsworth is in her house several times a week.”

“Is she his aunt or something?” Daphne asked.

“No. . . .” Jess drew out the word, sounding as if she were on the verge of laughter. “Lord Farnsworth is very good friends with her son.”

Fire and ice raced through Kit’s body as she felt herself start to shake. “No,” she whispered.

“Oh yes,” Jess said with a laugh. “Our dear friend Lord Wharton’s mother is on The Committee, and she’s storing her tea in a paper filigree box her son brought home from a recent trip.”

A little giggle burst out of Daphne followed by a wave of panicked laughter. “Oh no!” She heaved a deep breath. “Was he there? What did he say? What did you say?”

“We managed to avoid seeing him, but I heard him in the hall.” Jess draped a towel over the bowl of bread dough. “And I heard enough to know that Lord Farnsworth still knows nothing about why his sister left London.”

Kit winced. She’d never told Nash about Graham. “What did Margaretta say?”

“Nothing.” Jess carried the bowl to the side table. “Which is the exact same thing that I said. If she knows anything about Graham, it didn’t come from me. I’m going out to check the garden.”

Kit sighed. Checking the garden was Kit’s way to avoid everyone. Either Jess didn’t want to talk about her trip to London or she didn’t want Kit to hide herself in the sweet peas, which meant Kit was stuck looking for other tasks that kept her out of everyone’s way. At least out of Daphne’s way. The woman giggled every time she looked at Kit.

An hour later, a wagon pulled out of the trees in front of the house. It was easy enough to recognize Nash’s wagon and his donkey, Balaam. But what was he doing here? He’d seen Jess only that morning. If he’d had something to send them, he could have sent it with her. Kit stepped out onto the front porch and shielded her eyes with her hand.

The wagon was full of people. Margaretta was recognizable, sitting on the seat beside Nash, but the back was full of squirming bodies as well. Nash had brought his entire family. Why would he do that?

Unless he needed to hide Margaretta and the children. Had someone come to him in Marlborough? Was something happening?

Kit rushed down the stairs to meet the wagon in the front drive.

As it came closer, she saw there was another adult in the back of the wagon with the children. Hope unfurled in her chest before Kit could stop it. She knew it wasn’t Graham. What reason would he have to return? Besides, if she ever caught him wearing a flower-bedecked bonnet, she’d have to rethink her opinion of him.

Actually, she wouldn’t. Because if wearing a flowered bonnet was what it took to bring a smile to the faces around him, she had no doubt that Graham would plop it on his head without a moment’s hesitation.

Still, she recognized that particular bonnet, so unless Graham had taken to stealing hats from little old women, Mrs. Lancaster had decided to join the day’s excursion.

Either Nash was coming with extraordinarily good news or something truly horrible had happened.

People were still piling out of the wagon when Daphne and most of the children swarmed out to greet everyone. Margaretta’s children were soon swallowed into the ranks, and the entire lot ran off to play a game on the lawn behind the house.

Mrs. Lancaster shuffled her way over to Kit and Daphne with an exaggeratedly fierce scowl on her face, her right foot dragging a bit as she walked. “Where’s the blond one?”

Kit bit her cheek to keep from laughing, but Daphne released her giggles without a qualm. Mrs. Lancaster didn’t believe in giving Jess her own space like Kit, Daphne, and the children did, and there was something about the shopkeeper that terrified the otherwise fearless and feisty former spy.

“Kitchen,” Daphne said with a grin. “She’s working on cheese.”

Mrs. Lancaster nodded and started up the stairs into the house, taking them with more speed than Kit would have expected, given the woman’s slow gait. “I’ll just sneak through the house so she doesn’t know I’m coming.”

This time Kit couldn’t control her laughter. Wellington himself probably wouldn’t be able to sneak up on Jess, but that wasn’t going to stop Mrs. Lancaster from trying. Kit expected to see Jess flying out the side door of the house within minutes.

“To what do we owe this visit?” Kit asked.

Nash’s mouth pressed into a grim line, and his wife clasped her hands in front of her.

“We’ll talk about what you told Priscilla later. We’ve something else to discuss now.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “I received a letter this morning. It isn’t signed. The messenger who delivered it stood in my office waiting for an answer.”

He handed the top paper to Kit. “Based on the way the letter is written, I’m guessing it’s a parent of one of the children, but I don’t know which one. Someone definitely wants the location of the manor, though.”

Kit’s gaze flew over the letter. The person was requesting to meet with the recipient of the funds sent to purchase his chess pieces. It was carefully worded so that it wouldn’t have allowed Nash to simply direct the man to Mr. Leighton, who made all the chess sets for them.

The letter went on to say that while the gentleman had agreed to the extended delivery at first, he was changing his mind and wanted to talk directly to the organizer of the deal. Which would have been The Governess.

Kit had to applaud the person. The letter was written in such a way that if Nash had been simply a solicitor and not known about the children, he would still be in the dark.

Daphne read the letter over Kit’s shoulder and her coloring faded until she was as white as the paper.

“What did you say?” Kit asked.

“I told him no. I added something about the craftsman not being interested in meeting his clients. I don’t expect it to be the last I hear, though.”

Kit sank onto the steps behind her, letting the letter fall to the ground as she placed her head in her hands. “And we don’t know who is writing?”

“No. Though I’d bet it was one of the fathers. I can’t see one of the mothers writing in such a tone.”

“And the mothers’ fathers have nothing to gain by locating an illegitimate grandchild,” Kit murmured. No, chances were it was one of the men she’d stood in front of and threatened to ruin. She never thought she’d have to consider actually going through with it. She wasn’t sure she actually could. Could she deliberately set out to ruin someone’s life?

A glance at the grim, serious faces around her told her that she was most likely going to find out.