“In this case, I believe she is right,” Constance said. “It is he who is too young. None of his intentions would appear to be honorable at this point in his life, and I believe he sets his matrimonial sights on the aristocracy.”
“Even so, Sophie, consider,” Mrs. Chadwick pleaded. “A poor schoolteacher…”
“A poor physician,” her husband reminded her gently, and she turned quickly to look at him.
“You will allow this?”
“I would allow an engagement—of some months—if it is what Sophie truly wants.”
Ogden’s intensity was painful. Constance had never seen anyone in such an agony of uncertainty. “Did I ruin it, by doing what I did?” he asked hoarsely. “Is marriage with me what you want, Sophie?”
Sophie met his gaze, her color fluctuating as the silence stretched. “No.”
His gaze fell. Everything about him seemed to slump in total defeat.
“No,” she repeated. “You didn’t ruin it, though I’ll confess you took me by surprise. And yes, marriage with you is what I want.”
Happiness seemed to blaze between them. Over their heads, Constance met Soloman’s gaze in a quick, all-too-brief moment of understanding. Happiness seemed to be infectious.
It was time to go.
“Well?” she said, when they were once more in the street, arm in arm. “Shall we go home and be married? There might be a late train.”
“I have one more thing to do. And no, you shouldn’t come. I doubt she would let both of us over the door.”
*
Solomon’s final visitof the day was to Miss Fernie.
When he knocked on the door, she was clearly upstairs, no doubt in her secret parlor of stolen treasures, for he heard her footsteps descending before she opened the door. Her eyes widened in astonishment, then darted to either side, no doubt in search of the absent Constance.
“Mr. Grey.”
He removed his hat and inclined his head. “Miss Fernie. I trust you’ll forgive this intrusion on the sabbath, but there is something I must discuss with you.”
She opened the door wider. “Come in.”
He was led, of course, to the front parlor, where the fire still blazed merrily. Obviously, she did not need to economize on winter warmth.
“Please, sit,” she said politely, although she did not offer refreshments. When he had taken the chair she indicated and she had sat on the opposite side of the fireplace, she said, “Have you come about your betrothed?”
Solomon raised his brows. “I have not. I’m afraid I have come about you.”
She blinked, uncomprehending. “Me? I have already told you everything I know about these foolish letters, which is nothing at all.”
“Oh, we are no longer concerned with that,” Solomon said with an airy wave of his hand. “The matter is dealt with. But during our investigation, another matter came to light which is, sadly, criminal.”
“In Sutton May?” she said incredulously. “Then I would look no further than the so-called schoolteacher. This is what comes of raising common people out of their class.”
Solomon sighed and held her gaze. “Miss Fernie.”
Rather to his surprise, color seeped into her thin cheeks. “Well, what is it?”
“A matter of thefts committed over decades. A bracelet, a carved jewelry box, aBook of Common Prayervalued by the vicar…”
“I have heard of all these. They were not stolen but mislaid.”
“Then what,” Solomon asked, “are they doing in your upstairs parlor?”
