Mrs. Pembroke opened the front of the locket, removed the little portrait, and pressed the hidden clasp behind it. The second compartment released. Even though Anna had seen it before, the sight made her pulse quicken. The hidden place wassmall enough to hold a scrap of paper and large enough to change lives.
Mrs. Pembroke held the locket steady while Anna tucked the folded message inside. Her fingers trembled, but she managed it. That done, Mrs. Pembroke closed the hidden compartment, replaced the portrait, and shut the locket.
She slipped the locket into a small linen pouch and pulled the ribbon tight. “You will keep this until I tell you otherwise.”
Anna’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“You have already proven you can sew a pocket and catch a spoon. I am prepared to believe you can keep a pouch.”
Anna gulped. “That is not encouraging me, ma’am.”
“It was not meant to, dear.” Mrs. Pembroke pressed the pouch into Anna’s hands. “Now, do not put it in your apron pocket. It is too obvious. Not your bodice either. Men have wandering eyes and empty heads…”
She didn’t finish the sentence and instead patted her hair. “I suggest you pin it inside your petticoat beneath the side seam. If anyone asks why you are limping, tell them Mercy dropped a punch glass on your foot.”
“I have not dropped one yet,” Mercy said from the other side of the door.
Anna jumped and almost screamed.
Mrs. Pembroke closed her eyes. “Mercy.”
The door opened an inch, and Mercy peeked through the gap. “I was sent to find Anna.”
“By whom?” Mrs. Pembroke asked.
“Mrs. Fenwick. Who else?”
“And what does Mrs. Fenwick want with her?”
Mercy thought a moment. “Oh, I forgot.”
Mrs. Pembroke once more looked heavenward. “Providence tests me hourly in this house.”
Mercy’s gaze dropped to Anna’s hand, and Anna quickly closed it over the pouch. Mrs. Pembroke maneuvered herself between them. “Tell Mrs. Fenwick that Anna is assisting me with a household matter.”
Mercy’s eyes brightened with curiosity.
“A dull household matter,” Mrs. Pembroke added.
Mercy’s shoulders slumped. “All right.”
“And Mercy,” Mrs. Pembroke sang.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“If you mention this conversation to anyone, I shall make you polish every spoon in the house again. And let us see… two more times after that.”
Mercy gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
Mrs. Pembroke smiled.
Mercy paled in response. “Yes, ma’am.” With that, she vanished.
Anna let out the breath she’d been holding. “How much do you think she heard?”
“Mercy hears very little accurately, dear. That’s sometimes a blessing.” Mrs. Pembroke went to the door and pressed an ear against it. “Leave by the servants’ staircase. Pin the pouch as I told you, then return to the dining room.”
“And after that?” Anna asked.
