Her eyes widened. “A wax tablet,” she breathed, as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. “Ye were serious about needin’ my help.”
“We were,” Davien admitted.
She held her hand out for it. He hesitated only briefly before he surrendered it to her. “If I help ye,” she said, “ye have to promise t’ do something for me.”
“Anything,” Davien returned, and he meant it. “If you tell us what we need to know, I will be indebted to you.”
She gestured to a girl who was sitting huddled on the opposite side of the room. “That is Miss Elizabeth Collins. There is nothing wrong with ‘er, except that she’s illegitimate. Make sure that ye do everythin’ in your power to free her.”
Davien committed the light-haired young woman to memory, before he turned back to Mrs. Clay. “What about you?”
“That’s all I want. I’m old, my time for this earth isn’t much longer, but that one . . .” She shook her head. “Th’ other women treat her harshly, an’ there’s nothin’ wrong with her except her parentage.”
Davien inclined his head. “I swear it, on my honor as a gentleman.”
She must have read the sincerity in his eyes, for she nodded. She held the stylus in one hand and reached out the other to Davien. “So I can channel th’ energy around ye.”
Davien looked to Charlotte, who looked as uncertain as he felt. Not because of Mrs. Clay’s abilities—but because of what she might see.
He held out his hand.
