His gut dipped, and disquieting prickles of unease raced up the backs of his legs, at the thought of any member of his staff betraying him in such a way. He’d known them for years—some since he was a lad in short pants! And now he was expected to trust his home—hislife—to strangers, at the behest of a woman he scarcely knew.
“They’re lovely people,” Miss Huntsbury hurried to add. “And while their number might be fewer than to what you are accustomed, they are efficient at their household duties while also being excellent at keeping a person safe.”
Jasper nodded slowly. “You are acquainted with those in the Home Office?”
Miss Huntsbury’s lips tightened. “I am. But”—she cut him off before he could ask the next question on his tongue—“I shan’t discuss the matter further, I’m afraid. I will, however, have Maria introduce you once your temporary staff becomes available.”
“I would be delighted to,” Maria put in. “Additionally, Your Grace, I would like further consideration regarding the note Francis left for you. What, precisely, did it say?”
The tea Jasper had consumed sat heavily in his stomach as the quote drifted through his mind. He cleared his throat and recited: “Thou aRt a boil / A plague-sore or embossèd carbuncle / In my corrupted blood.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I can’t place the quote, but it is familiar. I daresay he simply wished to frighten me.”
A pucker formed between Maria’s brows. “And while I don’t disagree with you, Your Grace, we must consider all possibilities.” She strode to one of the desks and withdrew a pen and a piece of parchment. “Could you please repeat the quote once more?”
He did, rather enjoying the sight of her features scrunched in thought while she wrote.
“Was there a signature?” she asked. “Any distinguishable markings, such as smudges or ink droplets?”
Miss Huntsbury hummed in approval over her teacup.
It was Jasper’s turn to frown. “There was no signature, but one letter was slightly larger than the others in height and girth—as though it was capitalized, or the pen released too much ink.”
Maria’s gaze sharpened on his. “Which letter?”
“R.” He cleared his throat. “It was theRinart.”
With a nod, Maria jotted another note on the parchment, then resumed her seat among their group.
“I shall look into the quote and report back,” she announced.
“Thank you, Maria,” Miss Huntsbury replied.
Juliana sipped at her tea and returned the cup to its saucer. “The news of Francis’ escape will break on the morrow, if the gossip mill has not already seen it spread through every home in London.”
Miss Huntsbury took a moment to look each of them in the eye. “And we shall be ready.”
CHAPTER3
The rendezvous with Grace had gone rather better than Maria had anticipated. Grace had swiftly put Jasper in his place and taken easy control of the discussion. Maria rather envied her ability to command the room in such a way. Although she herselfhadmanaged Jasper in similar ways in the past, her emotions in the moment had always been too involved. She must learn to disengage herself.
“But they aremyboots, Caroline!”
Augusta’s screech filled the familial foyer as Maria stepped through the doorway.
Her youngest sister at eighteen, Caroline, snatched the boots out of Augusta’s reach, her perpetual stubbornness flashing in her lively brown eyes. “They don’t fit you any longer. Mama said thatIcould have them.”
“Mama!” Augusta’s shriek, Maria was certain, could be heard from across town.
Maria handed her pelisse, gloves, and bonnet to the awaiting footman, and stepped toward her sisters.
“When was the last time you wore the boots, Augusta?” Maria inquired.
Her sister’s grey eyes narrowed, and she gave a mulish pout that wrinkled her hawk-like nose. It made her appear younger than her nineteen years. “I don’t recall.”
“Have you attempted to try them on?” Maria asked. “Mayhap theyareill-fitting.”
“Well, I suppose?—”
“What is all this shouting?” their mama questioned from the top of the stairs.
