Firebolts shot out of the old man's eyes. "Very well. Give it to me." He scribbled his signature on the paper. Mr West took out the letter and compared the two.
He showed it to Edmund, whose face had gone deathly pale. His eyes sought Ellen's. She took the two sheets of paper with trembling hands.
She held them up to the light and placed the newer signature over the older one.
They were identical.
Tennbury.
"I'm so, so sorry," she choked out as tears filled her eyes. She dropped onto a sofa and covered her eyes with her hands.
"I say. If anyone is responsible for this fiasco, it is me. What happens now?" Edmund's voice was tense as he turned to Mr West.
Mr West gestured at the old man, who glared at them. "It's up to him. I suppose we should call the child—"
"There's no need for that," the old man replied testily. "I have arranged for the child to be cared for in that school," he pointed his stick upwards, "so that is where he must be."
Ellen woke from the torpor that had gripped her. She pulled herself to her feet and looked at the old man with irritation. "No, that's not at all where he needs to be."
"Young woman, I do not know who you are and why you speak to me in that tone," the old man replied haughtily.
"Look out, Tennbury, you're talking to my wife," growled Edmund.
"Lady Tewkbury, then." He pulled his thin lips to a humourless smile. "If someone could enlighten me as to what is going on, I would be most grateful." He stomped his cane into the ground.
"I am Ellen Robinson. That is, I was Ellen Robinson before I married Tewkbury, here. We found Noni at Miss Hilversham's Seminary for Young Ladies, standing all alone on the porch with only a small trunk and this letter." She gestured to the letter that Mr West was still holding in his hands.
"He was with a footman," the old man grumbled. "But he had strict instructions to return as soon as the child had been deposited at the school."
"I say, your footman took those instructions a mite too literally." Edmund tapped his snuff box before opening the lid to retrieve a pinch.
"Noni was all alone!" Ellen glared at the old man. "He could not explain where he came from, for you know the child does not speak."
"Unnatural child," the old man sniffed.
"He is not unnatural!" Ellen said indignantly. "And there must be a reason why he doesn't speak. Regardless, Miss Hilversham has decided that the child cannot stay at the seminary. I was told to return him to his guardian. As your handwriting is so illegible, I thought it said 'Hanover Square Eleven, signed Tewkbury.'"
Tennbury stared at her in disbelief. "You brought him here thinking Tewkbury was his guardian? And you," he lifted his cane at Edmund, "you swallowed that bag of moonshine and couldn't even remember whether you have a ward or not?"
Edmund coughed.
"You really are the fool you look," the old man said contemptuously.
Edmund did not deny it.
"Now, look here, sir, there is no need for insults." Mr West, bless his soul, jumped in to defend his master. "It was a misunderstanding. I, too, am at fault."
"Worse and worse. You, as his secretary. Did you not notice that this was not your master's signature?"
Mr West looked at Edmund for help.
Edmund finally spoke. "See here, it's simple. I never sign anything unless I can help it, and I never write any letters. That's why I have got a man of business to do this for me. I'd assumed it was my previous secretary who'd written the letter and that, err, I'd forgotten I'd signed it." He shrugged. "Things happen."
Tennbury snorted.
"West was hired a day before the boy arrived," Edmund continued. "So, no, he would not have known what my signature normally looks like."
The old man sniffed. "Another one of those illiterate fools who thinks they don't need to be able to read and write as long as they have one of those men to look after their affairs. It must be a modern sentiment. And you said you were a schoolmistress? For you to make such a mistake is unforgivable." He pointed his cane at Ellen.
