The bluestockings looked at her with expressions of befuddlement.
“What part of ‘kept in an iron strongbox’ is good news, Great-Aunt Wynchester?” Sybil asked.
“The hardest bit is solved,” Tommy answered. “We know where to find the book and the key.” She looked at Chloe. “Have you got a plan yet?”
“I’m working on it,” she murmured. “As soon as we call the others to the Planning Parlor—”
“I believe a mother ought to be allowed to see herdaughter,” shrilled a falsely jovial female voice from the corridor.
Philippa wanted to sink into the parquet. What in the dickens was her mother doing here?
She wrapped up the manuscripts and placed them back into their large basket. The lid closed just in time. Mother burst through the open doorway with a triumphant expression, followed immediately by the Faircliffe’s stone-faced butler…and Captain Northrup.
“Uncle,” Damaris said in surprise. “Why are you here?”
“I didn’t mean to be,” he said in obvious confusion. “I called at the York residence, hoping for a moment with the daughter…Ah, yes, there you are, Miss York.”
“‘The daughter’?” Tommy blustered in outrage as Great-Aunt Wynchester. “Green bucks with no sense of romance. Why, in my day—”
“That’ll do, Aunt,” Chloe interrupted smoothly. “As you can see, sir, you’ve caught us in the middle of a ladies’ reading circle, as I’ve no doubt Mrs. York must have informed you.”
“She forgot to mention that detail.” Captain Northrup slanted Philippa’s mother a dry look, but made no move to bow and apologize for the interruption. Instead, he swaggered farther into the ballroom. “Shall I pull up a chair?”
“Ladies’reading circle,” Tommy repeated belligerently. “Perhaps this young pup requires an ear trumpet.”
“As I told you, Captain,” Mother said quickly, “Philippa is very popular and important. She is the bosom friend of the duke and duchess.”
“I’dlike to befriend your bosom,” Tommy murmured in Philippa’s ear.
Philippa elbowed Great-Aunt Wynchester in the side.
Lady Eunice set Tiglet on the floor and gave the kitten’s backside a little pat. “Go,” she whispered. “Fetch the key.”
Tiglet shot past Captain Northrup and out through the open doorway.
“Brilliant,” Chloe said. “Now Tiglet is halfway to Islington.”
“It was worth a try,” Lady Eunice muttered.
“Homing kitten,” Tommy whispered. “Not ‘attack bunny.’”
“I would offer both of you a chair,” Chloe informed the interlopers, “if I weren’t entertaining invited guests.”
Philippa winced. “Oof,” she whispered to Tommy. “If Mother despised your sisterbefore…”
“It’s Chloe,” Tommy whispered back. “She has a plan.”
“I suppose Captain Northrup might stay for a cup of tea,” Chloe continued. Her eyes were not on Northrup, but rather Philippa’s mother. “Between me and my darling aunt, Philippa issowell chaperoned, wouldn’t you say, Mrs. York? Surely a mother wouldn’t wish to stifle a blossoming romance with a relative’s unnecessary presence.”
“Stifle?” Mother stammered. “No, I…Yes, naturally you and your aunt are fine chaperones. I’ll just…I’ll just nip back on home, then. I was only pointing out the house to dear Captain Northrup, that’s all.”
“Of course,” Chloe agreed. “I wouldn’t have thought otherwise. I am happy to escort you to the door. And because we’re such fine chaperones, you can have no objection to Philippa accompanying me tomorrow to visit a dear friend? I’ll return Philippa the very next evening. She’ll only be away for one night.”
“I…Well…That is…” Mother stared around the room helplessly.
Chloe had trapped her neatly. Mother could not object to Chloe’s chaperonage, now that she believed Philippa and Northrup had a blossoming romance.
“Bring her home before supper time,” Mother said, as if they were the sort of family who took their meals together.
