Rachel’s voice broke the quiet again, gentler now, but pointed. “Do you know Debrett’s, John?”
He shook his head.
“It is the great book of titles,” Rachel explained. “Every noble family, every estate written down as if in stone. But you will not find a single Jewish name there. Not one.” She let that truth settle. “Titles come from land. And land is closed to us, for Jews can’t own land. The record is silent—and silence is its own weapon.”
John frowned, brow tight. “But the estate is mine.”
“Yes,” Rachel said softly. “By right, it is. But men like Baron von List are waiting for heirs without protection. The gossips of the ton confirmed the rumors that you may be his next target. Without an unimpeachable name beside you, he can twist the law and take what’s yours with you or without. That is why your guardian”—she turned her gaze to Maisie—“must take on another name, a titled relation of yours. So no one dares strip you of what is yours.”
Maisie closed her eyes for an instant, steadying the storm inside her. How badly she wanted to reject it, to cling to the truth of her own name, her own heart. To believe she could walk openly as Faivish’s chosen so that he could find her and she could be his for life. But John’s thin shoulders were bowed under losses no child should bear, and Deena’s life was knotted to hers.
She opened her eyes. “I will do everything I can to protect them—under Eleanor’s name but with my heart.”
“That is what goodness is, Maisie—not the life we wish for, but the life we give so others may keep theirs.” Rachel’s expression softened. “Does anyone else smellrugelach?”
Denna leapt at the opportunity but John mumbled, “What’srug-leks?”
“Rugelach,” Deena corrected with a small laugh. “Delicious buttery pastries filled with nuts and honey paste.”
“Go to the back of the hall and see if anyone has brought them out yet,” Rachel said.
As their footsteps faded, Rachel’s tone shifted, and she leaned forward just slightly. “Now,” she said, her voice lower, purposeful. “How can I help you settle in more comfortably here in London?”
Maisie hesitated. She hadn’t intended to speak of it—but the question opened something inside. The words came unbidden. “There is someone I need to find,” she said, her voice quiet.
Rachel tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly—not out ofjudgment, but concern.
“A family member?”
Maisie shook her head. “No.”
Rachel didn’t press, but her gaze was steady. “A man?”
Maisie nodded once, and that one gesture cost her.
The man. The only one.
Rachel said nothing at first. Then, gently, “I understand.”
She reached for a small notepad and quill on the side table. “Give me his name. The ton has its ways. If he is here, or even rumored to be, we’ll find him.”
Maisie’s hands trembled slightly as she accepted the quill. Her throat tightened. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I have had no success finding him as Eleanor in the countryside. Perhaps here, in Town…”
“Yes.” Rachel didn’t look away. “You deserve more than survival. Let’s find your heart a future, too.”
Before Maisie could respond, Rachel turned her attention to the next topic. “And your sister? Where will she go to school?”
“I’ll teach her,” Maisie said quickly. “Everything Father taught me. A nurse.” She glanced at the door through which Deena had left with John a minute earlier with a small frown. Everything but the surgical skill and precision she’d once known by heart. That part of her life felt locked behind glass now visible but unreachable.
A sudden yelp startled them both. Maisie turned to see the marquess clutching his jaw, wincing, the half-eaten rugelach in his hand as he re-entered the room. Maisie sighed and placed her cup down. “Not again.”
Rachel’s brow rose. “Is everything all right?”
Maisie gave a wry smile. “The daughter of a dentist, looking after a boy who clearly needs one—and I can’t even find the man I love who could help him.”
Rachel tutted and smiled faintly. “We must remedy that. Eton waits for no one, and he can’t sit exams with a toothache.”
She walked to a small desk near the window, opened a drawer, and produced a card, handing it to Maisie.
