Graham nodded his approval. “Always best to speak to those close to the source.”
Benjamin continued. “Miss Whitchurch has heard nothing from her sister since she left the child in Miss Whitchurch’s room at the boarding house, which is exactly what has Betts’s assertions making more sense—that Miss Cassandra has been dead since early June. As best as we can derive, that was when Titan sent Cassandra Whitchurch to The Red Rooster, though, as I mentioned previously, Duncan and I confirmed the woman never applied for the position as cook at the inn. Since she left the child with her sister, Miss Cassandra has made no attempt to contact Miss Whitchurch. Never even presented her sister one pence for the care of the boy. Though I would not say so to the lady, Betts’s assertion holds more merit than I would like to present it.”
“If Miss Cassandra is dead, without money or identity, she would be likely to be found in a pauper’s grave,” Graham warned. “I can begin there, but I believe it would do me well to speak to Titan and, perhaps, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. To learn more about the young woman. Do you object?”
“Whatever it takes,” Benjamin assured. “We can no longer dance around this craziness. Miss Whitchurch refuses to have the boy christened, though Miss Cassandra told her in the note she left for her sister, to name the child, which sounds to me as if the woman had no desire to face her mistakes every day for the rest of her life. Yet, I cannot say that to Miss Whitchurch. She requires closure before she can claim her own life.”
“Does Miss Cassandra resemble Miss Whitchurch? I will be required to describe her to those I ask,” Graham asked.
Benjamin handed Graham a sketch of Miss Cassandra. It was between two sheets of card stock and tied off with a ribbon. “MissWhitchurch drew this to show the boy something of his mother as he grew older. She had it put away with the things she brought from the boarding house. I did not ask if she performed so to keep her sister’s memory equally alive for herself, but it may be useful to whoever might have prepared the body for interment, especially if all roads lead to a pauper’s grave as you suggested. For identity purposes.”
“Is it a true likeness?” Graham asked.
“I did not view it, but I have seen several others of Miss Whitchurch’s drawings. She has sketched the child twice, and those were quite good.”
Graham nodded his head in understanding before asking, “I suppose if I find the girl’s grave, you mean to have her exhumed and…”
“And buried again on my Kent estate. Her parents cannot accept the girl in their home shire, and I plan to marry Miss Whitchurch, and she and the boy will want to honor Miss Cassandra and remember her. No one in Kent will know more than what I tell them. The child will be an orphan raised by his aunt. I will see to the boy’s schooling and assist him as best I can. Miss Whitchurch and I will present the child the legitimacy his own parents refused.”
