“Is everyone ready?” Grace asked, sticking a pin into her hat.
“Yes,” Matt said, turning toward the milling herd. “Everyone, hold hands with one other person and line up.”
They sorted themselves out in short order and were ready. “My lady.” He bowed. “After you.”
Grace took his arm. “Where is Patience?”
“She went with your aunt and uncle.”
“Very well, let us proceed.”
“My love,” Matt said, “are we going to walk to church every time we attend?”
“You have a choice,” she said in an overly sweet tone. “We can walk, or you can see how much energy they have when we take the coaches. Do you remember yesterday?”
He frowned. “Yes, but that was only because of the wedding.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “If you truly believe that, we may take the coaches on Sunday.”
He had a vision of eleven active children in St. George’s—his active children—and capitulated. “You’ve done a very good job with Charlie. He appears to take his duties seriously, but in stride.”
Grinning, his wife said, “He made it easy. When we went through the guardianship process, he realized, early on, that he would be responsible for the children and the estates upon his majority.” Grace paused. “I wish he could have the opportunity to enjoy some freedom before taking up his duties, but it’s not possible.”
Matt covered her hand. “Many young men who’ve made that decision are very dull dogs. Charlie is not. I predict he’ll enjoy himself in a fashion that won’t harm his dependents.”
“No, he’s not a dead bore.” Tilting her head, she smiled up at him. “And I think you are right. He will find a way to enjoy himself and not harm anyone else.”
“Don’t forget, he’ll have both of us to help him now.” Matt would do his best to ensure Charlie did not shoulder any responsibilities he wasn’t ready for. All young men should have time to sow a few wild oats.
* * *
Combs relieved his son and at seven o’clock the next morning watched the lady walk back over to Stanwood House. The gentleman followed a few minutes later. “He’ll have what he needs now, and we maybe could help him a bit more by getting rid of his niece.” Combs sauntered out of the square and headed toward Mr. Molton’s rooms.
Molton heard the banging at the door and tried hard to separate it from the banging in his head. He’d been at the Daffy Club last night, reacquainting himself with London’s entertainments. He planned to be a very rich man.
“Mr. Molton, sir. I got the information ye need.”
Combs. Of course, who else would be knocking so early? “Give me a minute.”
He dragged himself out of bed and poured water in the basin. After splashing his face and brushing his teeth, he donned a dressing gown. In his considerable experience, people who woke up at the crack of dawn didn’t like to smell gin or brandy on another person, and he required Combs’s full cooperation.
Molton opened the door, welcomed Mr. Combs, and motioned him to a seat. After which, he rang for coffee. Once Molton had poured a cup for himself and the investigator, he took a chair. “Tell me what you found.”
Combs took a large drink of the coffee and set the cup back down. “It were just like ye said. That niece of yourn’s a regular doxy. Spend the whole night at that swell’s house and come out as brazen as could be this morning. I’ll testify to it. Can’t have trash like her keeping innocents.”
“Er, thank you. Well done.” Molton rubbed a hand over his face.Don’t tell me the man’s a bloody Methodist?
“Thank ye. When I teld me rib what she done, she sez it’s clear where me dooty be.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Molton rubbed his jaw. “I shall, of course, attempt to reason with her. If she will not give up the children, I must file a suit in Chancery Court.”
“Ye jus tell me, and I’ll be there. Seen it with me own eyes. Me and my oldest.” He nodded emphatically.
“Thank you again, and thank your son. I’ll come by later to pay you.”
“No need, no need a’tall. Won’t be in the office to-day, as it’s Good Friday. But me rib and me, we figure it’s a mission of God to save those youn’uns.”
Good Lord, the man was a Methodist. A starchier group of people he’d never met. “Truly, the work of the Lord.” Molton said with what he hoped was proper piety. “You have a good day with your family.”
