Page 6 of Better Off Wed

Jeremy thought of poor Betty, a victim of her master’s depravities, perhaps one of many. Thought of Penhurst’s insistence that she should hang—a reference to Lady Sterling, of course, but such a man would be equally quick to blame the maid for his present troubles.

He thought too of Penhurst’s vulgarities with respect to Lady Sterling, his claim to have pushed her to her knees. Recalled the fear in the woman’s voice, the trembling in her limbs when Jeremy had impeded her flight, and considered what might have happened, what Penhurst would have done, if Jeremy had held her arm a moment longer. Suddenly, he no longer regretted letting her escape.

Instead, his knuckles whitened where he gripped the calling card. Even as she stole from these men, what was being stolen from her?

“Do you know where Betty is now?” he asked, drawing another sharp breath through his nose—not calming, precisely, but focusing. Lady Sterling’s well-being was not his concern.

“Aye. Lady Sterling found her a new place—leastways, until the baby comes. With a Mrs. Mildred Hayes in Clapham.”

“And what of the other maidservants here? Are they safe from—?” He shot a glance over his shoulder.

“They soon will be.” Jeremy’s skepticism must have shown in his face, for the footman continued rapidly. “Lady Penhurst is sendin’ her son to rusticate, she says. At the dower house in Cornwall, with only his valet to attend him.”

“Because of Betty?” Jeremy asked, though he feared he knew the answer. The poor domestic, not the master, would have borne the brunt of her mistress’s displeasure if they had been caught in a compromising position.

“On account o’ Lady Sterling stole Lord Penhurst’s watch and chain,” he replied with a rough, humorless laugh at the pitilessness of valuing a timepiece over a serving girl’s life. “Family heirloom, they say. Heavy gold piece with the letter L on the cover, all ’round swirlygigs an’ the like.”

Odd. Penhurst had said nothing about the watch, though it sounded like a valuable object. Distinctive, too. The sort of thing that might be easy to recover, if anyone knew to be on the lookout for it.

“Lady Penhurst was fit to be tied when he told her it was gone,” the footman was saying. “Shouted him upstairs and down. Said she’d have his head if he steps foot out of his study, ’ceptin’ to get in the travelin’ coach.”

He and Jeremy shared a grim smile, both of them knowing that it was at best a temporary reprieve for the maidservants of Penhurst House. No matter the value of what Lady Sterling stole, it would never be punishment enough to deter a man like Penhurst. Unless…

While money may be one motivation for her exploits, I suspect it is not all she takes from these men, General Scott had spoken of secrets, of vulnerabilities—was there some reason Penhurst had kept silent about the watch?

Jeremy once more glanced at the card and those two damning words: for Betty. The supposed pickpocket had gone to some trouble to remind Penhurst she knew the truth about him.

Now it was up to Jeremy to uncover the truth about her.

With a nod of thanks to the footman, he tucked the card into his breast pocket and started down the steps.

“Sir?”

Jeremy glanced over his shoulder.

“When you find Betty, sir, will you tell her that Walter sends his—” He paused, as if hesitant to reveal too much, and a flush of color highlighted his freckles. “Sends his best wishes? Tell her—tell her I’d still like that walk in the park, if she’s a mind to it.”

With narrowed eyes, Jeremy glanced down the street, which was growing busier as the morning advanced. Would the girl even be willing to speak to a stranger? “Why don’t you come with me? You can tell her yourself.”

Walter stared at him for a moment, slack-jawed. Then he glanced over his shoulder at the open door and the empty hall beyond, weighed his options for a moment, and shrugged. “Aye, sir. That’s a capital idea,” he said as he tugged off his curled and powdered wig and stuffed it in his pocket of his livery, and the two of them set out in the direction of Westminster Bridge.

Chapter 2

Standing before the window, her back turned slightly toward the room, Laura Hopkins withdrew the watch from her reticule, merely for the pleasure of tracing the pad of her thumb over the ornate L on its cover.

“My dear girl, that must be the tenth time you’ve looked at your watch this hour. Do come and sit down.”

Aunt Mildred’s eyes were unfailingly sharp, even without the lorgnette she sometimes wielded. With a half smile of reluctant amusement, Laura curled her fingers around the watch and went to the tea table. “It seemed to me your coach must be late.”

“Nonsense. It’s only quarter of one. Doesn’t your new watch keep good time?”

“It’s an excellent piece, Aunt,” Laura reassured her, displaying the heavy gold circle on her palm.

“Rather masculine,” was Aunt Mildred’s firm opinion as she inspected the watch.

“I suppose,” Laura agreed, once more rubbing her thumb over the monogram surrounded by a pattern of leaves and swirls. “But once I saw it, I felt it was meant to be mine.”

Certainly she was as entitled to it as Lord Penhurst. And Lady Sterling’s reputation was such that finding her calling card in his watch pocket should be warning enough, proof that she knew what Penhurst, and his mother, would prefer to keep hidden.