CHAPTER 19

I stood at the window, heart pounding in my chest as I watched Mother's carriage roll down the drive. The horses' hooves kicked up a cloud of dust, obscuring the carriage from view as it disappeared through the wrought-iron gates. I slowly released the breath I'd been holding, my hands trembling as I stepped back from the window, allowing the curtain to fall back into place.

She would likely return by the afternoon, as I doubted the banker would have any more patience than that. I fancied his clerk would know just what to say to have Mother leave when she'd stayed too long. I hoped he was in an accommodating mood just for today, to give me time to search her private study.

I turned from the window, my skirts swishing around my ankles as I hurried from the room. The house seemed eerily quiet; the servants going about their duties almost invisible to me. As I made my way down the hallway, my footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet runner.

Her study was in the room beside her bedroom. She preferred to keep things close at hand and used a door in her bedroom to access it. As I drew closer, the sight of the oak panelled door mocked me, knowing that if there were a sudden noise I'd likely flee and hide like a rabbit. I had only been inside the study a handful of times, and never without Mother's express permission, or without Mother, for that matter.

Pausing opposite the door, I glanced up and down the hallway for signs of servants. When all remained quiet, I reached for the handle and pressed down. Locked. Of course it was.

I glanced around but doubted Mother hid a key in plain sight, for I knew she left nothing to chance. There had to be a way in, something I could use to force the lock. My gaze fell on a nearby table. A silver tray sat upon it with a letter opener, its silver blade glinting in the sunlight. I checked the hallway again before reaching for it.

"Miss Hannah?" a soft voice whispered behind me. I whirled around, the letter opener clutched to my chest.

It was Kitty.

"What are you doing, Miss? If Mrs Ravenscroft catches you…"

I shook my head, my grip tightening on the letter opener. "I have to get inside, Kitty. It's important. More important than anything."

Kitty hesitated, her gaze darting from the letter opener to the locked door.

"Let me try, Miss. I'd hate to see you slice your hand open and spoil the rug," she said. Kitty leaned closer as she took the letter opener and placed it back on the tray. "I've got a way with locks, learnt it from my brother before he went off to sea."

She reached into her hair and pulled out a slim piece of metal, bent at one end.

"The opener isn't any good, too thick when you need something thin and easy to move. I always keep one handy. Old habit."

Kitty inserted the metal into the keyhole, her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she worked it back and forth. I heard nothing until a soft scraping of metal on metal. Then, with a quiet click, the lock gave way. Kitty straightened up with a smile on her face.

"There you are, Miss. Quick and quiet, just like I promised."

"Thank you, Kitty," I whispered, squeezing her hand. "You won't tell, will you?"

"And risk being beaten and dismissed? Not likely Miss. All of us have our secrets. You're entitled to yours as long as nothing comes back to bite me. Best get on with it, Miss. Before someone comes looking."

Kitty walked off down the hallway as I entered the room, careful to close the door behind me. The curtains were tightly drawn, and the air was musty. It felt safer to open the curtains and close them before I left than risk trying to light a candle or lantern.

I threw back the heavy green velvet curtains, flooding the room with light.

Mother's desk dominated the space, a massive, imposing piece of mahogany with intricate carvings along the edges. I ran my fingers over the smooth surface before trying the drawers first. Like everything else, they were locked. Mother was nothing if not thorough and deliberate in her actions.

I picked up the letter opener Mother kept on the desk, a match for the one in the hallway. With a jab I wedged it into the gap between the drawer and the frame, moving it in the way John had done so to pry the wood off the door.

"Come on, open up," I said.

I clenched my teeth. Fine scratches now marred the wood where the blade skipped and skidded across the polished wood. She would know someone had been in there now. I pressed against the handle of the letter opener, feeling it slide further into the drawer. A splintering crack and the drawer gave way. I yanked it open, my hands shaking as I rifled through the contents.

There were papers, stacks and stacks of them. Letters, contracts, ledgers… The banking records caught my eye, the neat columns of numbers and names. The dates showed they were from two months past; Mother would probably demand the latest at the meeting today.

I scanned the entries, my heart pounding as I took in the sums. Mother had always been shrewd with money, but this…this was beyond anything I imagined. There were payments to people and places I wasn't acquainted with, sums transferred to accounts in London and beyond. And there, near the bottom of the page, an entry that made my blood run cold.

Maggie. Beside it, a notation: "Quarterly payment, St. Agatha's Asylum."

An asylum. My mind reeled, trying to make sense of it. Why would Mother be making payments to an asylum? And who is Maggie?

"Maggie. That's the only entry that appears not to be business related."

Straightening up, I looked around the room. Paintings of fox hunts, of ancestors, and a rather large one of Mother adorned the walls.

"She's not a charitable person. If she's paying for someone, there has to be a reason. A sister maybe?"

That felt plausible, especially if the sister wasn't fit for society. Mother certainly would rather such a person be not seen or known rather than provide care for.

I straightened the papers and rolled them up. My hands trembled as I held them tightly and headed out of the room. Kitty stood in the hallway with a feather duster in her hand.

"Hope you found what you were looking for, Miss. Do you need me to do anything else with my talent?"

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. "I have to go, Kitty. I have to…I have to see someone. Can you cover for me, just for a little while?"

Kitty nodded. "Of course, Miss. I'll tell them you're feeling poorly, that you've taken to your bed. Do you think you'll be back before Lady Catherine?"

I managed a small, grateful smile. "I will try, Kitty."

"Best go out the back servant door. I saw Mrs Ravenscroft supervising Diana out at the laundry line. Apparently yesterday the aprons weren't hung right."

I nodded, thankful for the help. As I made my way out of the manor, I used the maze's hedge to shield me from Mrs Ravenscroft—at last the maze redeemed itself.

The streets of the town were crowded as I made my way to the mill district, the heat of the day pressing down as I tried to find any shade along the way I could. I kept my head down, my face hidden beneath the brim of my bonnet in the event Mother's carriage may pass me by.

I reached John's street, and at last, I knocked on his door. For a long moment, there was no answer. Then the door creaked open, and I saw Mrs Ingham.

She blinked at me. "Miss Hannah? Back so soon after yesterday?"

"Please, Mrs Ingham. I need to see John. It's…it's urgent."

"Best come in then, Miss."

She stepped back, ushering me inside to the cold room.

"John's not back from the mill yet," Mrs Ingham said, leading me to a small, tidy kitchen. "They don't finish until dinner. Can I get you some tea, Miss? You look a bit peaky, if you don't mind me saying."

I shook my head, my stomach too knotted with nerves to even consider food or drink. "No, thank you, Mrs Ingham. I just…I need to speak with John."

"Sit down, child, before you fall down."

I smiled; she was like a mother duck herding her young into order. Once we were both seated, she turned to me.

"I know you know something about where he came from. He's not ready to tell and I'm not one to push. I suspect you know, though."

"I do, but I'm afraid the more I look into things, the more complicated everything is becoming."

"You surprise me. I didn't tell you that before, but you do. Not a lot of ladies would put pride aside to walk these roads unless professing to do it for charitable reasons." Mrs Ingham sighed. "Charitable reasons, of course, is for them to look good in society. Never about the people out here. Those with means will take even when nothing is left. That's not why you're here though, is it? What are you needing Johnny for? I do worry he'll lose his job with all these frequent disappearing acts."

"Oh, rest assured Mrs Ingham, I would never allow John to lose his job. I need a companion to go with me to a place. I think it might be where I'll find answers to my questions."

"Why Johnny, dear? Why not some fancy man from one of the estates this time?"

I glanced down at my hands as they scrunched the fabric of my skirt. Despite the cold in the room, I felt the heat rise in my cheeks.

"Because Mrs Ingham, I trust John and," I paused. Raising my gaze, I met hers and watched as a smile played on her lips. She knew. She already knew. "You know why, don't you? I'm in love with John and when I solve this, I want to marry him. If he'll have me, of course."

"Always hoped I'd live to see Johnny find someone. Past few years, I worried about him. So solitary and focused on work. Focused on taking care of me. Johnny was never one to be selfish and take some time for himself to court. Perhaps some higher power knew what was best in the mind. His Pa would approve, though your mother likely won't."

"Doesn't matter if she approves, because I have a plan."

"Is it one that can wait? If not, best tip a boy in the street to go fetch Johnny now."

And I did, because time waits for no one.