Rory shot him a questioning glance Harlowe ignored. “Aye, milord.”
“Blimey,” came her whispered surprise. “The front?”
“Certainly, no child of mine will be regulated through the servants’ entrance.” He slid off his horse and reached for her. With his arm around her waist, he said, “After a good clean bath you can see Penny—”
She began kicking, fervently, like a madwoman. “Put me down. I ain’t takin’ no bath. That’s dangrous!”
Thirty-Four
6 July 1818: You are but a month and a half away from giving birth to the possible heir of a viscountcy. It’s become clear to me Harlowe is not coming back. I am livid. I hope the man is dead. If he is not, I shall kill him myself.
9 July 1818: I dare not wait a moment longer. Never fear, Corinne. You have known me your entire life. When have I never not had a clever stratagem up my sleeve? It is all that is left to us. Tomorrow I shall make a chance meeting with the Earl of Kimpton. I will not be denied.
S
lowly, Maeve closed the diary. Based on everything Lorelei had told Maeve a few weeks ago, Rowena’s strategy was becoming clear. She must have threatened to expose Kimpton as Nathan’s father. The ruse had worked, at least to a degree. The only mystery remaining was why and who had attacked Harlowe.
Maeve poured the jewels out on the desk and considered them. She picked through the throng and selected the ruby ring, turning it. The candlelight burned through the brilliant stone that was as red as blood. Maeve decided right then she did not care much for rubies.
“Put me down, you cur.Put me down.”
Maeve’s heart stopped. What the devil? She dropped the ring and rushed from the room to the entry hall. “Brandon, what are you doing with that—”
“Meet Mellie, as she’s known on the streets. She said taking a bath is dangerous.”
“Oh, Lord. You found her!”
“I want my sister.” Her voice rose in hysterics. “This is a madhouse. Let me go. I ain’t takin’ no bath.”
“Don’t let her go, Brandon. McCaskle! Have a bath prepared in the kitchens. Immediately.”
“Where’s my sister? Where’s Penny?”
“Set her down, Brandon.” Despite the calm tone Maeve tried to muster, her voice quavered.
Brandon lowered the girl to her feet but kept firm hold of her hand.
Maeve kneeled down to her eye level. “Penny is upstairs sleeping, Melinda. She’s been quite worried. She has horrid dreams every night, fretting over your well-being.” She gave her a soft smile. “She has a bath almost every day. She’s been eating well. She loves sweetmeats. She told me you do too. Are you hungry?”
Tears leaked down her cheeks. “Terrbly, ma’am.”
“If Lord Harlowe releases you, will you promise not to run away? He needs to go to my vanity…” She glanced up at him. “Retrieve my rose oil. And Agnes. And one of Mary’s new night rails.”
His brows lifted while amusement glittered in his eyes.
“I promise I won’t let you drown in the bath. Will you come with me?” Maeve held out her hand. But it was a long, long moment before Melinda tentatively took it. Maeve came to her feet. “I once fell in the river and almost drowned. So you can be sure I will be right there to keep you safe.” Together they walked to the back of the house, to the stairs, and down to a room off the kitchens where Mrs. McCaskle and Niall were already pouring steaming buckets of water into a copper tub.
“Mrs. McCaskle, Niall, I’m pleased to introduce you to Melinda. Penny’s sister.”
“Nice meetin’ ye, Miss Melinda,” Mrs. McCaskle said in her bellowing way.
Niall inclined his head in her direction.
Agnes appeared in the arch with a vial of rose oil in one hand and a white cotton night rail in the other. “My lady?”
“Melinda, this is Agnes. She will assist me in giving you a bath.” Maeve turned to Mrs. McCaskle. “Please locate two of our softest linens. And tell Cook we require warm beefy stew and some of the lemon tarts left over from the evening meal. And milk.”
“Where’s me sister? Ye promised I could see her.”
