“How do you know she is gone, Mother?”
“My darling Davina left a missive, but she neglected to convey the rest of her stratagem.” She cried into the fabric, so shrill and loud that I could make out every word.
“She left a note?”
“That is what I said.”
I refused to begin yet another argument over semantics with Mother. “Where is the note?”
“I abandoned it on the vargueno when its contents overtook my sensibilities.”
Leaving her to sigh pathetically on the chaise, I strode over to find the slip of parchment in Dav’s messy scroll. It contained the usual sentiments.I want to go on an adventure. London is dreadfully dull.Then I found the details of this specific misdeed.I’ve learned of a third-rate naval ship docked at the port. I plan to board and sail to the East Indies. By the time you read this, I will be long away.
How the devil…
No matter. It was more information than she often left.
I turned back to my mother’s feigned sobs. “Mother, I need to retrieve her. Can I have anything brought to you for relief?”
“Yes!” she cried. “Procure my precious babe, my dearest, beloved daughter.”
“That is my intention. Is there anything else? A cup of tea?”
“No, not a thing. I shall not take nourishment until she is returned.”
“I’ll be off then,” I replied, desperate to escape.
I froze on the entry steps for a moment, considering—I could go to the docks, try to find Dav on my own. Or perhaps it would be more efficient to go straight to Mr. Summers and have him try to lessen the effects of whatever crimes she had committed in pursuit of entertainment.
In the moments I wavered, a boy, no more than twelve and wearing a blue coat, ran past. Oh good lord. He was here for me. He made it another full house before he realized his error and doubled back.
The ship’s boy skidded to a stop, panting in front of me with one hand on his side.
“M’lord,” he wheezed out. I wasn’t about to correct him.
“Are you here about Lady Davina?” I asked, urging him to sit on the steps. A knock on the door produced Mother’s butler. “A glass of lemonade, if you please.” He nodded his affirmation and slipped back inside.
“M’lord,” the boy tried again. “I was supposta find you at Rycliffe Place. But your butler said you’d be here. M’lord, it’s your sister,” the grubby boy broke off, wheezing. The butler returned with the glass, holding it out with thumb and forefinger as though it were dirty and not its recipient.
The child took it eagerly in both hands, not so much drinking as pouring it down his gullet.
“I take it she was caught?”
“In a lieutenant’s coat an everythin’.”
The place behind my left eye throbbed. “She is unharmed? Safe and still in England?”
“Yes, m’lord. But the Master at Arms is sayin’ he wants her punished. He don’ believe her story an says he thinks she might be spyin’. Esponge, he says.”
It took a moment for my head to translate his meaning.Espionage.My stomach jolted. Surely they couldn’t… not a lady.
“Why are you here? If he didn’t believe her?”
“Your sister. She said you’d pay the gentleman who assisted in her release.” The boy straightened his spine, tugging on the lapels of his coat between wheezes.
I slipped a hand into my pocket and placed three guineas on my outstretched palm. He grasped one coin between both thumbs and forefingers with an expression of pure awe. “They’re all for you, lad. And there’s another five in it for you if you can keep her from being arrested until I can get there.”
His grey eyes widened in a way that would have been comical if I weren’t oscillating between letting them arrest my sister to serve as a lesson and joining my mother in a panicked, inconsolable heap on the chaise upstairs.
