It still was.
“You cannot,” Sybil told her firmly. “But rest assured that I shall miss you. I’ll write often, and I hope you will write me as well.”
“As I shall miss you.” Her sister-in-law frowned. “Writing is a woefully insufficient replacement for having you here with me.Perhaps I shall accompany you, and we shall rusticate in the countryside together.”
“You will be far too missed here.” Sybil forced a smile she didn’t feel. “The children, Kingham, your mother, your brother. Only think of them all.”
Verity toyed with her locket. “Does this have to do with the footman of yours?”
Sybil hesitated, surprised that Everett had confided in his sister. “That was the cause of our argument, yes. You know about Henry, then?”
“My brother mentioned him. He was quite distraught.”
She sighed, her heart heavy. “I well understand that having an illegitimate sibling is scandalous. I hope you know that I never intended to bring shame upon your family. All I wanted was for my half brother to have a situation that was away from my father and his intemperate anger.”
Verity’s countenance shifted. “Henry the footman is your half brother?”
Sybil nodded, thinking that Everett must have kept that part of the story to himself in deference to his sister’s tender sensibilities. Too late to keep the secret now, however.
“He is my father’s son. Father dallied with one of the maids at Eastlake Hall, and Henry was the result. My brother has been in service all his life. I merely wished to help him, but Riverdale was deeply insulted by my suggestion. We had quite a row, and now…” Sybil allowed her words to trail off as she realized the carriage had come to a halt and that her throat was going tight with emotion. “Well, here we are. We should go inside to the children. I’m afraid I cannot stay long, for I have to be at the train station.”
“Of course,” Verity said, looking somehow stunned, before she shook her head and smiled brightly. “Yes, of course. Let us go inside to see the children.”
The door to the carriage swung open, and they both descended to the pavements that had become not just familiar to Sybil during her time in London, but beloved. She had found such meaning in her work with Verity at the Children’s Foundling Hospital. She would dearly miss the children. Seeing their smiling faces whilst Verity played the piano, listening to them sing, hearing their laughter.
They made their way into the orphanage as they always did, Sybil’s steps rendered heavier given the knowledge that this well may be the last call she paid. She still had no notion of what she would do after she reached Riverdale Abbey. All she did know for certain was that she couldn’t bear to remain in the town house with Everett any longer.
The headmistress greeted Sybil and Verity before taking them on a tour of the newly appointed music room. Within, there were instruments that had been sent by Kingham, along with fresh carpets and wall hangings that Verity and Sybil had joined together to fund. Like Verity, Sybil felt it was very important for the children to have something more than merely a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. Music, reading, and arithmetic lessons were essential components of their educations.
“The children will love this room,” Verity pronounced. “I cannot wait to hear them making music within these walls. Have you shown them yet?”
Mrs. Stevens shook her head. “No, my lady. I deemed it prudent to wait for you and Her Grace before revealing the new music room to them. We wouldn’t have this music room at all if it weren’t for the two of you and your tremendous efforts on behalf of the Children’s Foundling Hospital. We are indebted to you.”
“We thoroughly enjoy every moment of our visits here,” Sybil told the headmistress. “Knowing that the children are well provided for is a great source of comfort.”
“We certainly do our best, Your Grace.” Mrs. Stevens beamed, her cheeks going ruddy at Sybil’s praise. “Thank you for your kind words.”
“Are the children soon finished with their studies for the afternoon, Mrs. Stevens?” Verity asked. “I should like to play for them to begin our visit today. Seeing the music room completed has quite spoiled me, and now I must confess that all I want to do is sing.”
Verity’s eyes were dancing, and as usual, it was impossible to resist her charm and good cheer. The ordinarily stern headmistress relented at once.
“I shall go and assemble the boys and girls and return.”
With a curtsy, Mrs. Stevens excused herself and bustled from the room, leaving Sybil and Verity alone in the newly furnished chamber. Sybil took in the elegant harp and sleek violins that had been added along with the piano.
“It is very generous indeed for Kingham to send such excellent instruments,” she commented, casting a glance in Verity’s direction. “These all look to be quite fine.”
“Kingham knows how much they enjoy singing and dancing,” Verity said with a shrug.
Sybil didn’t think the duke was the sort of gentleman who usually went about filling orphanages with musical instruments of such excellent quality that they would have been just as at home in a lord’s town house. But she held her tongue. If Verity preferred to insist that there was nothing romantic between herself and Kingham, Sybil wouldn’t press the matter.
She did wonder, however, if the duke wasn’t harboring at least some manner of tender feelings for her sister-in-law.
“That was kind of him,” she said lightly instead. “He is a good man.”
“He is not as much of a scoundrel as my brother would paint him,” Verity said with a small, secretive smile that told Sybil rather a lot.
She was about to change the subject when an odd scent reached her. She sniffed the air, turning to Verity. “Do I smell smoke?”
