“Hmm.” Alice lifted the tea-pot and rang the bell-pull. “Is there anyone else who could chaperone you?”
“My grandmother wrote to me and asked me to have luncheon with her. But I have never heard of her chaperoning anyone.”
“Still, she could,” Eleanor said.
“I suppose I might be able to talk her into it.” Henrietta tried to think of that possibility. Grandmamma had not even come to Town for her Season last year. She had been traveling, and who knew how long she would be here?
For the first time since the girls had become involved in the conversation, Grace said, “She helped Dotty and Merton. I am not quite sure how she did it, but I know that she promoted their marriage.” A fresh pot of tea had arrived, and Grace poured them all cups. “And she knows Fotherby’s mother.”
Henrietta couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Her grandmother had been involved in her sister’s marriage? “I beg your pardon?”
“Yes.” Grace stared at a far wall, then her eyes focused on Henrietta. “Yes. There was a discussion as to what to do with Fotherby, and Dotty suggested that he be left to his mother. Your grandmother informed her what her son had done, and he was banished from Town until he matured.”
“There you have it,” the three girls said at the same time.
“Just like Lady Merton helped Merton,” Madeline said.
“Your grandmother can help Fotherby,” Alice finished.
“You will have to make sure your grandmother speaks with Lady Fotherby,” Eleanor finished.
Henrietta stared at the three girls, and the only thing that she could think was that they would be forces to be reckoned with when they were older. “You might have the solution.”
The three of them seemed to revert to the schoolroom girls they were as they grinned with satisfaction.
“Girls.” Grace clapped her hands. “Mrs. Winters will be looking for you. It’s time to go.”
They rose as one from the sofa.
“You will tell us what happens, will you not?” Madeline asked.
“Silly, we’ll be at the wedding or at the wedding breakfast,” Alice said.
They all waved and strode out the door.
Henrietta thought they might wait yet another year for the three of them to make their introduction to Polite Society, and glanced at Grace. “When do they come out?”
“Two more years. We are recruiting friends to help us.” She broke out into laughter. “At this point, I don’t know if we will have silly young ladies or younger replicas of Lady Bellamny.”
Lady Bellamny was one of the influential ladies of the ton and a force of her own. “It will be interesting to be sure.” Henrietta drank the rest of her tea. “Thank you. You and the girls have given me a place to start.”
“I hope he is worth the trouble.” Grace rose.
“We shall see. If not, I will continue searching for the right gentleman. A gentleman who is worth the trouble.” Standing, Henrietta took her cousin’s hand. “I will keep you informed.”
Grace smiled. “I shall hold you to that. Good luck.”
“Thank you. I have a feeling I will need it.” Fortunately, if Exeter was successful, she would meet Lord Fotherby tomorrow. With any luck at all, she would learn if she wished to know him better.
She returned home to find another note from Dorie.
Dearest Henrietta,
Please join us for tea tomorrow at three o’clock. I think you will be interested in the other person who will be there. We can discuss it further in the morning.
Your friend,
D.
Henrietta’s hands shook slightly with excitement as she refolded the missive. This must mean that Exeter had succeeded in inviting Lord Fotherby to tea. Did he know she would be there as well?
Whitechapel, London
“Augie’s dead,” their gran said, pulling aside the blanket separating the room Bart and his brothers shared. “Couldn’t get the fever down.”
The only thing that’d surprised him was that his brother had hung on fer so long.
“It’s all that bitch’s fault.” Cager, his youngest brother, growled.
“It’s ye’re own fault for not just hand’n over the babe.” Gran scowled. “What the ’ell was ye think’n?”
“More money for the mort,” Bart muttered. They’d all thought it were a good idea. “Didn’t know she had a pop.”
“Didn’t think she’d use it,” Cager muttered. “She weren’t no rum mort.”
“But she might work for one. Never thought ye was a knowing one, but I didn’t think ye was pudding-headed.” Gran shook her head. “I told ye ’afore. Leave the morts to a flash man. We got a good thing go’in here.” Find’en and selling brats had made them enough to leave St Giles. “Ain’t no one gonna complain about giv’n a brat to one of them charities. Everyone gets what they want. But ye start grabbing morts, and the pigs’ll be look’in fer us. Leave it be.” She grabbed a bag she held the coins in and counted out several. “Yer lucky she paid ye at all. I’d say she’s cannier than ye are.”
Bart took the balsam. He knew his gran was right. Him and Cager couldn’t go look’in for the mort. But if they found ’er agin, ’e’d make sure she paid for killing his brother. This time ’e’d just put a hole in ’er like she did to Augie. He’d have ta find a pop first. Bart wished ’e knew which charity the mort was from. Meebe if they saw the same shaver he’d tell ’im.
“Go find me some’un to take Augie,” Gran ordered. “Then ye can go get another brat or two to save.”
Bart jerked his head for Cager to follow him. They went to the house of a night-soil man and left a message with his woman to come and take their brother. Then they went over to St Giles and started look’in and ask’in around fer more brats. They was never too hard to find.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next morning Nate rose just before the sun and set out on a ride with Padraig prancing alongside the horse. As he did before, he roamed the Park, allowing Darragh to set the pace. The horse was recovering nicely from his journey to Town. As Nate was leaving, he saw the same two ladies he’d seen before. If it were not for the rules of Polite Society, it would have been easy to join them and introduce himself. But there were rules, and he was not in a position to break them. Still, he’d meet Miss Stern today. Tea might be hours away, but it would be to his benefit to wait. Then, with any luck, he might be able to speak with her the next time he saw her. If she didn’t reject him.
He turned toward the gate and home. He was glad his new boots had arrived yesterday. He wanted to make as good an impression as he could, especially if she knew what he’d done. But did she? It was hard to believe that if she knew she would still want to meet him. One way or the other, he’d find out soon.
After bathing and dressing, he headed to the breakfast room, where the scent of bacon seemed to drift on the air. Once again, his mother was before him.
“Good morning, dear.” She folded the newssheet she’d been reading and set it next to her plate on the table. “How was your ride?”