What was left of his heart shattered. “No, sweetheart, Mama hasn’t left. She needed to do something.”
“She’s not going to go away again? She no go to the sea? No go.”
“I’ll bring her back. I promise.”
Hope wrapped her arms about his leg. “Papa, don’t you go to the sea too.”
She said it clear with no stutter.
He lifted her high. “Mama went to play with her dearest friend, the Duchess of Repington. She’ll be back. She will.”
Max whimpered as if he knew differently.
Daniel had ruined things, but Jemina would be back for Hope. That he knew without doubt.
“Hold on to Mrs. Phoebe. You’ll see, everything will be well.”
The little girl didn’t move. Like one of the Widow’s Grace’s tools, she stayed hooked to his leg.
This was horrible. For in his gut, he knew Jemina had finally chosen what she wanted more than anything—more than his love or the family he’d built. She wanted the truth, and only trusted the Widow’s Grace to claim it.
CHAPTER 47
JEMINA—CLANDESTINEOPERATIONS
Tonight, the moon shone bright and full. I could see through the trees to the top of the Lincoln’s Inn.
“Jemina,” Patience said, “you sure you want to do this? You could go to Finchely and try once again to sort this out.”
I looked up through the canopy of leaves at the bright stars. “I should’ve taken Ashbrook’s keys. I was in such a rush.”
“Let’s go and talk with the earl. I’ll be with you.”
“Talk? To return without proof of anything will make him think I am crazed. He won’t see that I’m doing this for me and for us. I don’t need protecting. I need the full unvarnished truth.”
With a grunt and a prayer, I tossed the rope and hooked it good. “After you, Patience.”
She touched my face. “I’ll support you.”
The night sky was overcast, but I saw shadows in her eyes. She doubted the evidence was here.
I couldn’t think that. I couldn’t.
She gripped the rope and started climbing. Patience was in breeches. I still wore Daniel’s pantaloons with my sash keeping them up. My trusty buckled slippers were ready.
Faster than anything, my friend opened the window. Soon, we stood inside.
She lit candles, as she did that night we first burglarized the Lincoln’s Inn.
With more confidence than I had in long time, I went to Daniel’s desk and rifled through his stack. I found nothing but more notes from the St. Maurs’ solicitor in Tonbridge.
Patience made her way to the sofa and curled onto it. “Wake me when you find what it is you’re looking for.”
“The complete list of the passengers. That should say who was accompanied by minor children.”
“Have at it.” Her voice sounded tired.
I felt horrible dragging her from Sandlin Court, but I started again through the pile. This time slower and read a few of the letters from Mr. Mosey. “The St. Maurs are after assets I possess. What could that be? Not my widow’s dower.”
