She gave a relieved smile. “Yes, of course. The baby is doing well. She will be sent to the country in a week or so.”
Thank God the child had lived. He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Excellent. I’m glad to hear that you have a place in the country for the children.”
“We have several houses we use. This one is in Richmond, so the journey will not overtax her.”
Richmond? The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and Padraig stood straighter, as if he sensed something was wrong. “She is a girl?”
“Yes. Of course, you could not have known that when you helped rescue her,” Mrs. Perriman said.
“If you require any assistance in the future, I would be happy to be of service again.” Maybe that way he could discover who his lady was.
“Thank you for your very kind offer.” She smiled. “Our staff has been augmented, but if you will leave your direction, I will call upon you if there is a need. There might very well be. We see an increase in children needing homes this time of year.”
The question was, should he give his house address? He’d already misled her about his name, but he could always say that he felt it was safer. That excuse sounded lame even to him. He’d better not mislead her about his address. “A message sent to Forty-five Grosvenor Street will find me.”
“Grosvenor Street.” Somewhere in the house a door slammed, and she suddenly rose and ushered him out of the parlor and into the hall. “Thank you, Mr. Meadows.”
Nate bowed. “Good-bye, Mrs. Perriman.”
“Farewell. I hope that we do not have to call on you, but it is nice to know that we may.”
As he turned to leave, a boy of about ten or eleven almost ran into him. “Sorry, sir.”
“It’s no matter.” Nate and Padraig regained the pavement. “Did you notice that she did not acknowledge you at all?” he asked the dog. “I find that interesting. And after I gave her the address, she couldn’t get me out fast enough. Of course, it could have something to do with the boy coming in. What do you think, Padraig? Is she merely protecting the lady?”
Then the mention of a house in Richmond came back to him, and he stopped walking. Oh, good God! She . . . his lady . . . could not possibly be related to Merton. Or could she? Nate resumed his stroll back toward Mayfair. No, not Merton. His wife. That was the reason she resembled Miss Stern so strongly. She was another Miss Stern.
But what was he going to do about it? He didn’t want to give up on her without at least trying to attach her attentions. She really was the most remarkable female he’d ever met. “Padraig, old boy, I think I’m in trouble.”
* * *
The following morning, Henrietta ate a piece of toast and drank her tea as her maid fixed her hair. Dorie was finally able to ride again after having the baby and they had agreed to meet in the mornings for a short while.
“That should stay up,” Spyer said as she put away the rest of the pins. “I’ll arrange it more becomingly after you return.”
“Thank you.” Henrietta grabbed her bonnet and fixed it with a hat pin. It was almost eight o’clock, but the sun had just made a showing. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll have a tub ready when you return,” her maid called after her.
“Thank you.” No matter how little time one spent on a horse, one always smelled like the stables afterward. She hurried down to the hall and out the door where one of Merton’s grooms stood with Lilly, her black mare. The groom assisted her into the saddle, and she started toward Exeter House on the other side of the square.
She arrived just as Exeter was lifting Dorie onto her horse. “Remember what the doctor said, and take it easy the first few times out.” He turned. “Good morning, Miss Stern.”
“Good morning.” She was extremely happy that Exeter and Dorie had worked out their problems and had wed.
“I shall.” Dorie leaned down and kissed him. “We will not be long.” She glanced at Henrietta. “Shall we go?”
“Yes.”
They made their way through the heavy morning traffic to the Grosvenor gate into the Park. “I liked riding in April and May better,” Dorie said. “There were not so many drays and other vehicles.”
“Because we ride earlier.” Henrietta grinned. When he was attempting to court Dorie, poor Exeter had not realized that she rode at sunrise, not according to a clock, and had frequently missed Dorie. “As long as you are able, we can depart just before sunrise for the rest of the Season, and there will be less and less traffic.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “And as long as little David decides to sleep. He wakes up hungry.”
“Keep the room dark until you return.” Due to Henrietta’s parents’ more advanced ideas on raising children, she had been required to assist her mother looking in on tenants and had not been made to leave the room when womanly subjects had been discussed. “It is easier to keep the baby on a schedule of sorts that way.”
“I am surprised Nurse did not say anything.” Dorie pulled a face. “Then again, she does not approve of me nursing the baby.”
