Page 69 of Never a Proper Lady

As Mr. Petheringham’s last letter contains what I perceive to be a threat, I cannot help but speculate that perhaps he is, in fact, John Smith; the man who brought the child to Haven House and Academy for the Enrichment of Young Women. I also cannot help but wonder if his obsession with finding Bernadette Rennison—known as Faith Roth now—after all these years is not merely familial concern but perhaps something more nefarious.

Toward that end, I wish to retain your services and ask that you continue the investigation your predecessor began. I shall be in London next week and should like to meet with you then. Miss Roth and I are attending a soirée in a couple of weeks, and I hope to be able to reassure her that she has nothing to fear. I have warned her of Mr. Petheringham’s persistence and asked her not to agree to see him until we know exactly who he is and his motives.

I have enclosed a deposit and shall pay the balance when we meet.

~Mrs. Hester Shepherd, in a short letter to Detective Cyril Dankworth

Dovetonwick Court

Kitchen garden pathway

A minute later

Constantine burst into laughter.

Would Faith never cease to surprise him?

Expression grave, she appeared so earnest, so intent, that he’d expected a far more personal question.

Why are you such a cad to me?

Why have you treated me with such undeserved contempt?

Why did you lie about meeting me for breakfast?

When he’d wrestled his mirth under control, he nodded. “Indeed. Her parents christened her Primrose Pumilia, and she married a sailor named Rafferty Pippinger.”

“Oh.” Faith’s rosy lips twitched, her eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth. “It’s quite a mouthful, isn’t it?”

“Most everyone addresses her as Pip.” He switched the heavy basket to his other arm.

What had Pip packed?

A banquet for six?

Adjusting the basket so it hung over his bent arm, he scanned the cart path they strolled along. “Edyth alerted me that you’d crept out of her chamber before the cock crowed.”

“I could’ve sworn she was asleep.” Faith flattened her mouth into a thin line. Edyth’s loyalty to Constantine peeved her. “I was so careful not to wake her.”

“She was worried about you,” Constantine offered by way of an explanation. “She likes you very much.”

Well, that made one Kellinggrave who did.

Faith shrugged as she turned off the track and onto the lush grass toward a fence. “She needn’t have been. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I walk to your laboratory every morning at six o’clock. London’s streets are far more dangerous than an early morning meander through a field. It’s not likely a cow will rob me.”

Constantine flared his nose on a sharp intake of air. “You walk to work every day?”

It took her over an hour. Every day. On London’s streets?

Good Lord.

Did she know how dangerous that was?

Faith gave him an incredulous look as she lifted her skirts and nimbly clambered up the fence rail.

He tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore her well-turned ankle and shapely calves.

What other woman of his acquaintance would’ve clambered over the fence without assistance? Edyth might’ve done; if no one was around to see her. But he couldn't conceive of another female he knew even attempting the feat.