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“Convey my compliments to Miss Martin, if you will. I cannot fathom how she’s managed to accomplish all this . . . but it’s good work, this reclaiming of lost souls. Noble work, I should say.” He chuckled a little to himself. “Social leopard, indeed.” After adjusting his hat, he headed to the door. “Good day, Mr. Pembroke.”

Chapter Forty-One

All the Leaves Are Brown

I found it.” Reina’s voice floated out into the hallway as John approached the library. “According to Hertslet’s Commercial Treaties, if we go to America, violating a ticket-of-leave license is not an extraditable offense. Furthermore, even if the British authorities wanted to pursue us, they would have to find us first—which would be nearly impossible in California.”

“Is that near New York?” Enid asked.

“No, it’s on the other side. The state that looks like a coat sleeve.”

Reina paced with an open book in her hand. John could tell she was thinking about multiple subjects simultaneously—she had the erratic, preoccupied air he’d come to recognize. Trying to talk with her at such times could be tricky—she might skip over parts of an explanation without remembering that most people thought in a linear fashion.

Norman sat at the writing desk taking notes. Enid and Belinda sat at the long table, which was not at all appropriate for servants.

“Why are you going to America, ma’am?” John asked as he entered the room.

Belinda answered. “We all are, Mr. Pembroke.” She was the only one in the room who looked even remotely pleased about it.

“We can’t risk losing Benjamin,” Reina said.

John couldn’t believe she was willing to give up the entire life she’d built . . . her connections, friends, reputation, the house she loved . . . all for the sake of the infant in her care.

“You don’t do anything halfway, do you,” he commented ruefully.

“Is there ever a point in doing something halfway?” she parried.

“Do you really think Chancery Court would give the baby to the Kingsleys?” John asked calmly.

“It’s not probable, but it’s possible.”

“What if I told you that Inspector Grindal said he intends to write a positive report about us, and he supports the idea of raising Benjamin at Westbrook House?”

Everyone glanced at him in surprise.

“That would help,” Reina said, “but it’s not enough. The only real insurance would have been a statement written by Tuppence and signed along with two witnesses. But I didn’t think of it at the time, and Tuppence was in no condition to sign anything.” She set the treaties compilation on the table with a decisive plunk. “This is our next best option. We’ll take a steamer to Boston or New York, and book two Palace Pullman railway cars to California. San Francisco, to be precise. I have shares in a land company there, as well as a warehouse facility.”

“Are we going to live in a warehouse?” Belinda asked in excitement.

“No, dear, I’ll appoint a proxy buyer to find a proper house for us, and I’ll telegraph funds to San Francisco in advance. We’ll stay at the Palace Hotel until the house is furnished. Are you making notes, Mr. Goodluck?”

“Proxy buyer,” Norman repeated obediently, writing it down. “Telegraph funds. Reserve rooms at Palace Hotel.”

Reina snapped her fingers as a new thought occurred to her. “Trunks. Mr. Goodluck, start a list of items we’ll need from Winterborne’s luggage department. Steamer and wardrobe trunks, hat boxes, dressing cases, shoe cases. And we’ll need at least four private staterooms on the transatlantic liner. Cunard line, preferably. One room for Maddock and you, one for Enid and Belinda, June will have her own room, and we’ll need one for Pembroke and me. Do you think they’ll have rats on the ship for Alan to play with? We’d better add that to the list.”

“You want to bring rats for Alan?” Norman asked apprehensively.

“No, I meant toys, things for him to chew—”

“Ma’am,” Enid interrupted, “did you just say . . . a room for you and Mr. Pembroke?”

“Yes,” Reina said distractedly, pulling more books from a shelf, “we’ll have the ship’s captain marry us.”

The three servants all turned to stare at John.

“Mr. Pembroke,” Norman asked, “did you know about this?”

John regarded Reina with amusement and a touch of exasperation. “There may be easier ways to save money on a room, ma’am.”