Rothborne looked her over again in a way that made Anna want to step back. She forced herself to stay put. “Turn out your pockets.”
Mrs. Fenwick gasped. “Lieutenant!”
Mrs. Pembroke’s voice grew impatient. “Absolutely not.”
Rothborne didn’t look away from Anna. “If she has nothing to hide, she has nothing to fear.”
“What a foolish thing to say,” Mrs. Pembroke replied. “In my experience, innocent people often have the most to fear from men determined to find guilt.”
“Enough, Lieutenant,” Whitby snapped. “Leave the girl be.”
Rothborne turned on him. “Captain—”
“I said enough. If there was a leak, it didn’t come from a maid with a wine tray.”
Anna sensed Nathaniel’s gaze flick toward her again but didn’t dare look at him.
Rothborne stepped back as Whitby turned to Mrs. Pembroke. “We’ll need a list of everyone who attended last night.”
Mrs. Pembroke patted her hair. “Captain, you gave me the list.”
“And I require it back,” he said.
Mrs. Pembroke smiled. “Then we are both in luck. I have no sentimental attachment to it.”
“Now, if you please, Mrs. Pembroke,” Captain Whitby growled.
“Fine. I will fetch it.” Mrs. Pembroke turned to Anna. “Come along, Anna. You know where I left the papers better than I do.”
Anna didn’t know where Mrs. Pembroke left anything, but she curtsied and followed her anyway. They walked down the hall into the morning room, where Mrs. Pembroke shut the door behind them. She then crossed to the writing table and opened a drawer.
“Anna.”
Anna pressed a hand to her chest. “They speak of the shipment.”
“Apparently.”
She gave the door an anxious look. “They know something happened, ma’am.”
“They know enough to be angry and not enough to be certain.” Mrs. Pembroke removed a folded paper from the drawer and sat. “This is a useful state for an enemy. It makes them loud.”
Anna swallowed. “Did the message reach someone?”
Mrs. Pembroke peered at her over the paper. “We may safely assume so.”
Relief struck Anna so hard she almost had to sit down. The locket had worked. Men who fought for liberty might live because of it. Unfortunately, the men in this very house might hang her for it.
Mrs. Pembroke handed Anna the guest list. “Breathe, my dear.”
Anna drew in a shuddering breath and nodded.
Mrs. Pembroke eyed her. “You’re turning the color of boiled linen.”
Anna nodded. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Mrs. Pembroke gave her a small, gentle smile. “You did well, dear.”
Anna’s throat tightened. “I lied.”
