“My son needs a wife to soften those rough edges. We must redouble our efforts. I think Amelia de Burgh is our best bet at the moment. But we must not limit ourselves.”
She clapped her hands together and turned to Adeline with a smile.
“You will go back to our copy ofDebrett’s, if you please. The De Burghs of Denbury. Pretty and from excellent stock.”
Adeline smiled faintly and nodded. She felt her heart shrivel inside. To help Cordelia choose a bride for Winston was torment, but she could not refuse.
“From there, begin compiling a list of all the families in the vicinity of our rank and below who have daughters of the appropriate age. I believe our copy ofDebrett’swas acquired just a few months ago, so it should be very current.”
When Cordelia dismissed her, Adeline almost fled. In the library, she foundDebrett’sopen and resting upon a table.
Has Winston been looking at it recently? For what reason?
She turned its pages, staring blindly at the lists of names, unable to bring herself to write even one. She was charged with finding a replacement for…herself. Except it was not a replacement. She was not a fiancée and he was not courting her. She was an employee and as such there was no possibility of Winston considering her as a potential wife.
Only a lover it seems. And God help me but part of me is keen to accept that role!
She let her head fall to her hands, unable to bear the weight any longer only to jerk upright at a sharp rap on the door.
“Yes?” she called.
The door opened to admit Mr. Lavender, the butler.
“Miss Wilkinson,” he said, “the Duke is not at home, and Her Grace, the Dowager, sleeps. There is a man at the door, a master Malcolm Pike, of Bow Street Magistrates. He wishes to speak with someone in authority.”
“Very well,” she said, her voice calm though her knees threatened to buckle.
She met Mr. Pike in the hall. He was an unremarkable man, neat in dress, with sharp eyes that seemed to touch on everything in the room at least once. He bowed politely.
“Forgive the intrusion, madam. I have been sent to look into a matter of theft at Harston Hall two years ago. Lord Harston himself has urged one of the magistrates to take it up. The thief was his daughter, who fled the house and may have since engaged in…at least one other crime.”
Adeline felt the color leave her face.
“Oh my! That does sound serious. Please come into the Duke’s study. We may talk in privacy there. I will need to relay this to His Grace upon his return.”
“I cannot discuss particulars of the…other crime,” Pike said, “but I do have some questions I would like to ask. Might I have the honor of your name?”
She forced a steady smile. “Adeline Wilkinson, daughter of the Viscount of Clifford-Edge. I serve here as lady-in-waiting to the Dowager Duchess and governess to the young Lady Louisa.”
His brows rose faintly. “Adeline. The same as Lord Harston’s daughter. And you share something of her description.”
Adeline was proud that her smile did not falter.
“A coincidence, I am sure,” she said, smoothly. “Tell me, sir, is this woman dangerous? I have charge of a child, and I should know if there is a risk lurking nearby.”
“Woman?” Pike asked.
Adeline stared at him for a moment, thinking back over everything he had said. Had he mentioned that he was seeking a female thief? No. He had just mentioned that she shared a name and looks with the daughter of Lord Harston. A cold feeling settled into her stomach, like a yawning chasm.
“Did you not say that you were looking for the daughter of…of Lord Harsden?” Adeline said, deliberately mispronouncing the name.
“Harston,” Pike corrected, “and no. I merely commented on the resemblance.”
“Oh, forgive me. I misheard. So, you are looking for a man?”
“I did not say that either,” Pike replied.
Adeline was beginning to feel like a mouse between the paws of a playful cat. She was afraid but becoming irritated at this unnecessary burden, this added anxiety. And the cryptic nature of the man interrogating her.
