“If there is a way, we will find it,” Graham agreed. He turned to Tommy. “Can you send a note to Chloe, and have her meet us here after breakfast tomorrow?”
Tommy nodded. “Just Chloe, or she and Faircliffe both?”
“Both,” Graham answered. “I suspect this case will require all hands on deck.”
11
Despite her new guest chambers being every bit as luxurious as her suite at the Pulteney Hotel, Kuni spent most of the night tossing restlessly on the soft mattress. She was embarrassed for having interrupted when she should have stayed silent.
A Royal Guardswoman did notinterrupt. During ceremonial events, Royal Guardsmen stood facing forward with perfect posture and impassive expressions, no matter what non–life-threatening events transpired an arm’s length away. The trick was to appear as motionless and soundless as furniture until and unless her royal charge required physical protection.
She hadpracticedthis. For most of her childhood. How many birthdays had she spent standing as straight as a sentinel, never flinching when her brothers destroyed her new doll piece by piece and ate her cakes right in front of her, one delicious crumb at a time?
And yet, at the first true opportunity to prove herself, she had offered coins to grieving parents so they could save themselves, when what they had wanted was to saveothers.
It was a lesson not just in humility, but in presumption. Kuni wasn’t a Wynchester or a Goodnight or even a citizen of this country, and she’d thought she knew best.
Listen to the clients and then take the action they request.
So simple. So obvious. Wasn’t that what Kuni had been fighting for all her life? To be listened to. To be taken seriously. To be allowed to pursue the futureshewished, not the one forced upon her by a well-meaning third party.
Shewanted honor. Of course the Goodnights would, too.
Graham and his family had been magnificent. Kind, competent, and compassionate. Even the kitchen staff had managed to produce a tray of sandwiches before the guests had finished seating themselves.
If anyone could solve the unsolvable, it would be the Wynchesters. She’d seen the variety of costumes in the wardrobe of that inn’s secret room. Who knew how many tricks and tools they had stashed around the city? Little wonder the desperate traveled for miles to place their lives in the siblings’ hands.
***
When dawn came, Kuni gave up on sleep.
The gowns she wore to royal functions required extra hands to stuff Kuni inside and lace her up. She’d left those at home. These traveling dresses with hidden apertures for daggers were specifically designed to pull on and off with ease. The new maid Graham arranged the night before had tended to Kuni’s hair, leaving little else to do in her toilette.
She assumed she wouldn’t see another soul for hours. Princess Mechtilda and her siblings never rose before noon; therefore, their companions rarely did either, giving Kuni plenty of time to train with the soldiers. She assumed wealthy Englishmen slept just as late. But by the time Kuni’s boots were halfway down the marble stairs, the pleasant din of voices and plinking silverware reached her ears.
She hurried toward the noise to find the guests of honor and all the Wynchesters—minus the weasel—seated about a large dining room table. A few of the chairs were piled with newspapers, but there were plenty of seats to spare.
Graham’s eyes were the first to meet Kuni’s. His welcoming smile warmed her skin and brought a smile to her own face.
He gestured to the fragrant food lining the closest wall. “Help yourself to anything on the sideboard that pleases you, then come and join us.”
Kuni lifted the topmost plate from a stack and made her way down the sideboard, piling item after item onto her plate. Some she recognized and some she did not. Breads, fruits, fish.
She was determined to sample everything she could while she was abroad. Princess Mechtilda was counting on Kuni to report back on every aspect of her experiences in England. The princess said it would feel as though she had been on adventure, too.
There was no free seat next to Graham, so Kuni chose a spot between Jacob and Marjorie. The Wynchester siblings smiled at Kuni and did their best to include her and the Goodnights in their rapid volleys of half-told stories and familial teasing.
When the Goodnights finished their meal, their faces were full of hope.
The Wynchesters piled onto the front garden to see them off as though the Goodnights were their own grandparents. They tucked their clients into a comfortable hired carriage with plenty of food and blankets for the trip north.
After the coach pulled away, they lost their easy humor and looked at each other with troubled eyes.
Philippa’s hands twisted in the lace of her gown. “I keep thinking about the child whose arm was wrenched off in a moving machine.”
Marjorie swallowed. “I can’t stop thinking about Adella Goodnight.”
“We’ll find a way to help,” Graham said firmly. “We’re only waiting on—”
