Page 72

Ella thought about that. “I don’t think she’ll mind.”

“I agree. I don’t think Fulvia gives a damn about being ruined,” Fiennes said. “I hesitate to impugn your aunt, but she did not set a good example. We’re lucky Fulvia married the fellow.”

The truth felt like a leaden weight in Ella’s chest. “But how will she live? Actors can’t be paid very well.”

“Oh, we’ll support them,” Fiennes said cheerfully. “Adding up everything you bring to the marriage: a few garments, a cat, some squirrels, an indigent actress and her husband, and an adulterous aunt, if you don’t mind my bluntness.”

Ella started giggling. “I am definitely not a good bargain.”

“It’s a good thing that you’re so desirable that I would give everything I own to marry you.”

They didn’t stop kissing until Fiennes shifted his hand to run down her arm and accidentally caught the bruise her uncle left. One of them.

She flinched.

“Damn carriage accident,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss the blue-black bruise, and then the second one, on her forearm. “Tomorrow, I shall kiss your ribs,” he said, straightening. Then his brows knit. “Wait. How did you get this one?”

“The accident is all a blur,” Ella told him, shrugging.

If she confessed the truth, Fiennes would go downstairs and wallop her uncle, but she wouldn’t put it past the viscount to do something nefarious in return. Something secretive and evil.

“Josephina!” she cried, changing the subject. “I can’t believe we haven’t checked her nest.”

“Yes,” Fiennes said slowly.

She walked over to crouch next to Mrs. Quimby’s hatbox, lying on its side. Josephina had constructed a beautiful nest from soft bits of fabric, a few leaves, and even some pieces of parchment she’d found and chewed into moon shapes.

As Ella popped her head down to the entrance, she saw Josephina curled in a tight circle. “Hello, Joe,” she whispered. “Are you alone in there?”

Josephina’s eyes gleamed at her from the dusky nest. Then she uncurled just enough so that Ella could see one sweet little head nestled beneath her, eyes shut tight.

“Oh, Fiennes,” she breathed. “Babies!”

His big warm body crouched down beside her. Ella leaned against him, loving the citrusy smell of his starched linen—well, citrus with a touch of sausage.

Fiennes carefully took a candied violet and set it near Josephina’s head. She didn’t move.

“Perhaps sweets aren’t the right thing to eat at the moment,” Ella said. “Back home, the stableboys make special mash for mares.”

“Good thought,” Fiennes said, taking back the violet. “What shall we give her?”

“I have her favorite nuts.” Ella got up and went over to the tin box where she kept squirrel food.

“Here’s a hazelnut,” Ella told Josephina a moment later. “Here, I’ll give you a plate. You can eat it at your leisure.” She plucked a piece of parchment from the nest and put the nut on top.

“Wait a minute,” Fiennes said.

Ella raised an eyebrow.

“First of all,” Fiennes said, his voice having taken on that rolling growl that she was coming to know, “I’d like to just say that your leg is exquisite.”

Ella looked down with a gasp. Her skirt had fallen apart, and her plump thigh gleamed like fresh cream in the sunshine.

“And second, look at this, Ella. Where is it from?”

Fiennes handed her a second piece of parchment, also taken from the nest. She turned it over, frowning. “I’m not sure where Josephina found the parchment, but it seems soft and thick, so I didn’t worry about it. She may have carried the pieces up the tree, which suggests she was in the library, chewing on my uncle’s papers.” She smiled ruefully at Fiennes. “I didn’t try to stop her, which is very wrong of me. An Unkind Deed, to go along with Unkind Thoughts.”

“It reads ‘In the name of God, a—”