“Are all of the duchess’s animals rescued?”
“Sadly, they are. Most people who acquire animals don’t know the first thing about taking care of them. They’re abandoned, forgotten, or left to waste away in sickness. That’s when Her Grace and Master Theo step in. If they aren’t familiar with the animal, her Grace locates someone who can help.”
Again, Theo.
MasterTheo this time.
Somehow, Julia sensed Theo was the key to unraveling the mystery of this place. But she didn’t dare ask—not yet. Nor, despite dropping several hints, had she come any closer to locating Farring’s letter.
“So, you have scientists who visit?” She kept her voice light.
“Most correspond.We rarely openour place to visitors.”
Ourplace? Quite proprietorial. “If you did, every young child would be clamoring for a visit. This place is fanciful.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Shillingham nodded sagely. “That’s how most describe Periwinkle Gate.”
“And how do you describe the manor?”
“Heaven.”
Heaven.
Julia recognized the woman’s wistful expression. She’d found belonging here, this odd housekeeper. Just as the animals had found a home. Perhaps not the most practical of homes, but one they could count on.
“Pretty,” Sir Tangle repeated.
Julia approached his perch.
“Lift your hand slowly,” Mrs. Shillingham instructed, “and hold it just in front. If he approves of you, he may nuzzle, or he may crawl onto your hand. But let him take the first step.”
The bird examined Julia’s arm—sidestepping back and forth on his perch and tilting his head.
“Well, Sir Tangle?” Julia asked. “Do I pass muster?”
“Pretty.” He stretched both his claws, one at a time, then nuzzled beneath her finger.
Julia smiled. “Aren’t you a gentleman flirt?”
The bird nodded. “Pretty.”
She looked into the bird’s tiny, wizened eyes, and some of her fog lifted. One by one, he placed his claws gently onto her wrist.
“You’ve won over Sir Tangle.” Mrs. Shillingham chuckled.
“Now if I could only win Lord Rayne.”
“Oh, I’m quite certain he’s smitten, too.”
Julia inhaled sharply. “I apologize, Mrs. Shillingham. I hadn’t meant to speak aloud.”
Mrs. Shillingham lifted her brows. “He brought you here for a reason, you know.”
“Rayne?” Julia asked, startled.
Mrs. Shillingham shook her head. “Lord Farring. If Lord Farring did not trust you completely, you would not be here.” She transferred Sir Tangle from Julia’s wrist to her shoulder and then slipped her arm beneath Julia’s arm. “Let’s walk, shall we? And while we walk, I want to tell you a story.”
As they passed through the long, ornate hallways, Mrs. Shillingham related an extraordinary tale about a ducal daughter who’d been determined not just to join the war as a man but to live the whole of her life on those terms. In short, she related the disappearance of Lady Theodora Maxwell-Hughes and the return—thanks to a French general’s mistress—of a wounded Master Theo, who now lived his days as he saw fit in a place where he was welcomed and understood. A feat for a beloved sibling even Farring couldn’t have managed, not without the assistance of a mutual, trusted friend.
