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Jonas inclined his head. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Rosalind rolled her eyes. “Oh, for goodness sake, do I have to spell this out? She can read.”
“So you said,” Jonas said, irritation gnawing at his patience, “and as I’m similarly skilled, there is no need for you to spell out anything.”
Rosalind sighed. “Do you recall the discussion we were having before Miss Doyle arrived last night?”
Jonas needed no reminding. He’d been thinking on it most of the morning. “I do. We were discussing mother’s failing eyesight.”
“Indeed. And you brought up the possibility of securing her a companion.”
Jonas studied her warily. He knew that gleam in her eye. Throughout his youth, it had appeared whenever she’d concocted some harebrained scheme and was preparing to persuade him that it would be a grand adventure. Few people realized that Rosalind had devised more than half the scrapes he’d found himself in as a boy.
“We are not children any longer, Roz,” he said, sounding all too much like Alexander. “I will not fall in with one of your madcap plans.”
Rosalind laughed. “I confess, you’ve endured more than your share of punishments for my brilliant ideas in the past. But there will be no climbing out of windows or sneaking out at night this time, and I do not anticipate your getting a scolding from Mother for this suggestion.”
Folding his arms, Jonas continued to eye her suspiciously. “I’m assuming this does involve Mother though.”
“Yes.” Rosalind beamed. “I believe I have hit upon a solution for all your quandaries.”
“All of them.”
She nodded. “Our concern for Mother being left alone, Miss Doyle’s need to disappear from Little Tilbury and the challenge of Reynard and Viscount Langton being one and the same person can all be resolved in one master stroke.”
Jonas’s uneasiness was mounting. He had a fairly good idea of where Rosalind was going with this line of reasoning. “You cannot possibly be suggesting that Miss Doyle take on the role of Mother’s companion. She’s an innkeeper’s daughter.”
“Her articulation can’t be faulted, and she’s well-read.”
“How well-read?”
Rosalind shrugged. “Well, I don’t exactly know, but she enjoys reading.”
Jonas groaned. “For goodness sake, Rosalind, be sensible. You know nothing about Miss Doyle. She and Mother likely have nothing in common whatsoever.”
“Or they could be a perfect match. We shall never know unless we introduce them.” She leaned forward. “But think on it, Jonas. It would be ideal. Mother would have a devoted companion—I have already ascertained that Miss Doyle is a hard worker, so she would not shirk her responsibilities—and Miss Doyle would be out of sight of anyone from the village. You, in the meantime, could meet with her as Reynard and then go to London to do whatever business you need to do as Viscount Langton. And while you’re away, you could enquire about a long-term position for her in the city.”
Jonas ran his fingers through his hair. “I think this latest scheme may be your most ridiculous to date. You realize that Miss Doyle has no experience whatsoever with the lifestyle of a noblewoman.”
“Of course I do.” Rosalind sounded cross. “But she seems a kind, caring person—she was genuinely concerned about your recovery, by the way—and I think those characteristics will mean more to Mother than a pedigree. Besides, she’d be keeping Mother company at home, not being presented at court.”
“And what about when friends come to call?”
“Miss Doyle could remove herself from the room in those situations. Mother would need her far more when she is alone.”
Jonas felt as though he were sitting in the path of a snowball rolling downhill, gathering momentum and size as it went. “I know you mean well, Roz, but honestly—”
“There’s something else,” Rosalind said, leaning forward. “Have you considered the resource that has just been handed to you for discovering the identity of the Midnight Master? Miss Doyle was there at the inn whenever that mysterious man appeared. Who knows what she has seen.”
“It is virtually impossible to penetrate the layer of loyalty the smugglers have built around themselves,” Jonas said. “That was why it was necessary for me to become one of them.”
“I do not believe Miss Doyle harbors that kind of loyalty,” Rosalind said. “She came to Langton to escape an untenable marriage and her life amidst the smugglers of Little Tilbury.”
Jonas sat very still. “She told you this?”
“Yes.”
For a few moments, Jonas allowed himself to reflect upon his conversations with Miss Doyle in the hidden room of the inn. Not only had she vehemently denied having the same leanings as her father with regard to smuggling, but she had also seemed genuinely hurt when he’d accused her of culpability by association. Was it possible she had reached her fill, that she wanted to be away from the smugglers and their work? And if she felt safe enough in her new environment, would she be willing to share what she knew?
