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Was Lord Ryecombe trying to swindle them, too? If only that came as a surprise.

“They do not look very pleased with their conversation.”

Edward darted his gaze to the man Lord Ryecombe had introduced him to, having nearly forgotten that Mr. Coventry still stood beside him.

Edward cleared his throat, embarrassed at having been caught prying in another’s affairs.

Mr. Coventry shifted his body to face him. “Have you a moment to speak, Mr. Steele?”

“Of course, sir.” So long as more praise would be given.

“I will not take much of your time. I merely wished to inquire of your schedule. You see, over the last few years, I’ve hired numerous cabinetmakers to refinish one of the libraries in my house that was damaged from extensive underuse and lack of care. The entire room has been refurbished with new wood—the ceilings, the bookshelves, the flooring.”

Edward nodded, leashing his hope to his side.

“It has taken longer than I’d hoped it would,” Mr. Coventry continued, “but I should like to see its completion this year. The final touch will be, of course, the carving. I’m sure you’ve surmised as much, but I should like to hire you for the job.”

Edward blinked to ward off his surprise.

Lord Ryecombe had hired Edward out of sheer desperation, and any other orders from the upper class were next to nonexistent. The only way Edward had been able to keep a small amount of food on his table was working for those in the city who were unaware of the rumors and had happened upon his shop. Apparently, this was the category into which Mr. Coventry fell.

“It will be a long task, mind,” Mr. Coventry said. “Perhaps three or four months.”

Three or four months. Three or four months of a solid, steady income. Three or four months of carving, designing—doing the thing he loved most. This had to be a dream.

“I believe I could manage such a task,” he answered as apathetically as possible.

“I would need you no later than next week,” Mr. Coventry said, then he hesitated. “In Ashwick.”

“Ashwick?” But that was nearly twenty miles away.

“Yes, I hope that will not be a problem. You would need to stay in the village, of course. But I am more than happy to pay for your room. And I will compensate you for the work generously.”

Edward’s hope lapped at his heart. With such work, he might then be able to satisfy the four months of rent he owed. He would certainly be daft to decline such an offer.

But how could he leave Mother for so long?

“When would you require an answer, sir?” he asked. “I have a few items to work out beforehand.”

“Within the next few days would be ideal, but I understand if you need more time to put your affairs in order.” He pulled out his golden watch, eying the time. “When you decide, send me a note at Queen’s Square. We will be there until the end of this week.”

“I’ll have a decision to you before then,” Edward agreed.

The men nodded in departure, and Edward struggled to hide his smile. Now all that was left to do was tell Mother—and hope she would agree to his decision.

But of course, she did.

The moment he spoke with her about the opportunity, she began eating his smuggled pastries and jumped straight into planning.

A week later, Edward was adjusting his leather satchel around his shoulder and carrying a portmanteau out of their small home on the outskirts of Bath.

“You’ll send word the moment you arrive safely?” Mother asked, readjusting his cravat for the second time—something she’d always done with Father.

He nodded. “You will be all right here without me?”

She patted his cheek. “The three months will be long, but we shall do what we must.”

Edward was still hesitant about leaving Mother for so long, especially with the landlord, Mr. Chapple, breathing down their necks. Edward had managed to ward off the penny-pinching man for months with compliments and promises. But he feared Mr. Chapple would take advantage of Edward’s absence and threaten evicting Mother.