“Why didn’t she come to me?” Lady Covington broke in. “Why didn’t she tell me what she’d suffered? I too lost a husband in that accident. I know no one believes it, but my heart was broken. I was a long time recovering. Lord Covington’s kindness and understanding about it is why I married him, once I could breathe again.”
She glanced up at his portrait. Lord Covington gazed down at us no less formidably, but I fancied I saw a gleam of relief in his eyes.
“She was treated a bit unfairly,” I said, accepting a cup of tea Lady Covington herself poured. Jepson, instead of departing, planted herself next to the sofa. I sipped the tea, pleased to find it of much better quality than what I’d been served downstairs. “As is usual. Those with more to lose are less compensated.”
“Well, I’d have done right by her. Poor woman, indeed. To have lost a son.” Lady Covington glanced swiftly at Jonathan and shook her head, her eyes holding sadness. “I must apologize to you, Mrs. Holloway, and to you, Lady Cynthia, for my behavior and short temper these last weeks. Not knowing when you will take poison and who is administering it made me quite cross. But you soldiered through. I am grateful. Please believe me.”
“Good riddance, I say,” Jepson snapped. “You can feel sorry for her all you like, your ladyship, but she made you and your brother quite ill and killed poor Mrs. Hume. Thank heavens Sir Arthur has a strong constitution and weren’t harmed by it. She’s wicked and will get what she deserves.”
“There is some truth to what you say,” Lady Covington admitted. “But if I’d known, if I’d found out more about her, Erica might have been spared.”
“Perhaps,” Jepson said with a shrug. “I think she was eaten up with anger, and it wouldn’t have made a difference if you’d tried to help her. I never liked that woman.” She sent a glare to me, as though daring me to argue.
I pretended to ignore her. “Your ladyship, if I could be so impertinent as to ask a boon? Not for me, but for Mrs. Hume.”
Lady Covington raised her brows, but Jonathan cleared his throat. “I already told her, Mrs. Holloway. About Henry.”
Lady Covington inclined her head. “I was shocked, naturally, but thinking it through, it is not so surprising. Erica’s husband treated her dreadfully, and so she sought comfort elsewhere. I will meet Henry and do all I can for him. After all, he is part of the family.”
I let out a breath, relaxing. I’d come to know that Lady Covington had a good heart beneath her imperious manner.
Jonathan sent me a wink over his raised teacup. “I’ve also talked her and George into giving Mr. Amos a promotion.”
Harriet gasped, her face going crimson. “Jonathan.”
Lady Covington bathed Jonathan in a disapproving look. “I was not going to state it so bluntly until the deed was done, but yes. Mr. Amos will assist another member of the board who oversees its finances. Mr. Amos is clever with numbers, apparently.”
“George approved of this?” Harriet asked in amazement.
Jonathan grinned. “Let us say I put it to him in terms he could not dismiss. He was quite agreeable, in the end.”
He shot me a sly look, confirming that he’d used his knowledge of George’s private life to leverage Mr. Amos’s promotion. I was glad of George’s capitulation for Harriet’s and Mr. Amos’s sake but not certain I liked Jonathan’s methods of going about it.
I finished the polite tea with Lady Covington, who looked thankful to put her worries about the poisoner behind her, and then I departed the overly elegant and muffled house, leaving Cynthia to continue her visit. I had a more pressing appointment to keep.
* * *
* * *
I spent the remainder of my afternoon with Grace, squeezing her hard when I greeted her. Grace held me tightly in return, always sensing when I was in distress.
We took a short stroll together, and I held her hand the entire time. The tale of the railway crash had stirred my deepest fears. How could I keep Grace safe when I could not be with her at all times? If she journeyed on a train without me, would I be approached by a constable telling me of a railway accident that had taken her from me?
Any accident could do that, I knew, from the carts that rumbled past us on the road to the bricks falling from a building undergoing repair. I could never guarantee my daughter’s safety, and that had me clinging to her today.
I kissed Grace good-bye at the end of the afternoon and went home, tears in my eyes.
I had little to tell Tess when I reached the house, because Caleb had stopped to see her and had given her the entire tale. Tess surprised me with tea already prepared and tea cakes made specially for me—no lemon in them at all.
Mrs. Redfern, who had no notion of my adventures, came down while Tess and I prepared supper, to inform me that Lord and Lady Clifford had decided to stay in Town, in this house, for the remainder of the Season. They’d postpone deciding what to do about Cynthia until late in June, when they would return to the country.
Mr. Davis, hearing this news, muttered that he’d better lock up the wine, and hastened down the hall.
Daniel did not come. I badly wanted to see him, but James stopped in with a message that Daniel had returned to Scotland Yard and was working through the aftermath of the duke’s admission to his crimes. The duke and duchess hadn’t exactly been arrested, James said, which was no surprise to me, but Daniel and his guv’nor were speaking to each of them for hours at a time.
I realized that Daniel and Mr. Monaghan would use the duke’s knowledge to find others in his organization. They’d interrogate him about who the leaders were and whether other plots were brewing. If the duke feared exposure and accusations of treason, he might be willing to tell all he knew.
I imagined being the recipient of the icy gray stare of Mr. Monaghan. The duke would confess all just to get away from it, I wagered.
I was not certain the duchess would be as yielding. The fire inside her had burned long and deeply.
What would those in the secret society the duke funded do now? I wondered as I worked. Disband and flee? Or try to silence the duke? The last possibility made me shiver, and I worried for Daniel’s safety. These men would blame Daniel for the duke’s capture, and I hoped they never had to know about him.
I was very busy the rest of that week, as Lady Clifford decided to use her time in London to renew old acquaintances. She had a supper party almost every night, to the delight of Mrs. Bywater, who basked in the company of aristocrats, and the dismay of Mr. Bywater, who preferred quiet and uncomplicated meals.
Tess and I made lobster pancakes, fish with champagne sauce, soups of Symes’s beans and tender spring greens, roasted lamb and beef, gooseberry tarts, my Antiguan custards, asparagus every way imaginable, strawberry soufflé, and when Mrs. Bywater demanded it, the lemon cake.