There were tasks women performed in daylight, and there were tasks they performed when no one of consequence ought to be looking. She had learned that distinction from Charles. She had also learned that a woman could do a great deal, if she were willing to be thought capable of nothing.
After dinner, Jane found her in the attic, fetching her old disguise. The light through the small window had gone grey-blue, and the air smelled faintly of dust and damp wool.
“Whatever are you doing up here, Elise?” Jane asked, looking with disapproval.
“Looking for something.”
“You have been quiet today,” Jane observed.
Elise did not look up. “Have I? I thought I had spoken to half the house.”
“You spoke,” Jane said, “but your mind has been elsewhere all day.”
Elise closed a trunk with a spray of dust and hefted the clothes she had dug out of it. There was no point pretending with Jane. Jane had lived at Belair House long enough to distinguish between ordinary fatigue and the kind that came from fear.
“There is something I must do,” Elise said at last.
Jane waited.
Elise drew a breath. “I shall be out tonight.”
“Out?”
“Yes.”
“At what hour?”
“After the girls are in bed.”
Jane’s gaze sharpened. “When will you return?”
“I cannot say.” Elise’s voice cracked.
A silence fell—brief, but weighted. Jane’s expression altered in small degrees: firstly concern, then comprehension, then the kind of reluctant acceptance that was Jane’s particular form of loyalty.
“This is about Blake,” Jane said quietly.
“It is about what Blake told me,” Elise corrected.
Jane’s eyes held hers. “And what Blake told you is about men who should not be asking questions.”
Elise’s fingers curled against the clothing. “Yes.”
Jane exhaled. “Where are you going?”
Elise hesitated for only a moment. “The George.”
Jane’s brows rose a fraction. “The George?”
“It is a busy tavern,” Elise said, “and therefore the easiest place to be unseen.”
Jane made a sound that might have been a laugh in any other circumstance. “You and I have very different ideas of being unseen.”
Elise looked at her then, and allowed the truth to show—just enough that Jane could not mistake it. “There is a man I must find.”
Jane scowled. “You mean to go and look for him yourself.” It was not a question.
“I mean to see,” Elise said, “to listen and to learn what I can.”
