Yes, she was aware of it. She nodded.
Verity blushed, showing her one of the letters. “Ernest and I have a little trick to communicate intimate things without Mother knowing it.” She pointed at the top line of the letter where Ernest had written the date and the time of day. “Look at these numbers here. Do you see anything peculiar?”
Maddie narrowed her gaze. “Not really. Date and time. A bit unusual to add the time of day, but Ernest is a bit unusual. In the most charming way,” she added quickly when Verity opened her mouth.
“Well, if you look closer, you’ll notice there’s a tiny blotch of ink on the number five.”
Maddie brought the letter up to take a better look. “It’s barely visible.”
“Yes, but it means the number five is the key.”
“The key?”
Verity flushed again, her eyes brightening. “Read the letter but only one word every five.”
Maddie did as she was told, skimming Ernest’s elegant writing. “My...dear...I...wish…”
“Shush!” Verity glanced at the door again. “In your head, you ninny.”
“All right.” Chuckling, Maddie started reading.
I wish to lift your skirt and dip my head between your—
“My goodness!” Maddie stopped reading. “Verity.”
Her sister had the good sense to blush. “The letters aren’t all like that one. Unfortunately. Sometimes he simply expresses his deep feelings for me and what he’d like to do once we’re married.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Isn’t it an intriguing reading though?”
A laugh burst out of Maddie. “It is. By all means, the man is passionate and quite...anatomical.”
Verity giggled. “Don’t tell Mama.”
“I won’t. Do you reply in the same fashion?”
She sighed. “I have to. I can’t lie about my desires. You know, my name means ‘truth’ and his name means ‘sincere.’ We’re made for one another.”
Maddie put down the letter. She would always blush when she saw one of Ernest’s letters from now on. “How did you create this code?”
“We didn’t, really. Do you remember Miss Annabelle Fanshaw?”
“Vaguely. Isn’t she the one who started a scandal with her very low-necked dress when she was a debutante?”
“Yes. I met her at my weekly piano concert, and we became friends. Almost. She told me about this code. She uses to send secret messages to her lovers, too.” Verity lowered her voice again.
“Lovers?”
“She’s a woman who knows what she wants.” Verity gathered the letters, her features tightening. “A woman who isn’t afraid to get it.” She cleared her throat. “Annabelle introduced me to some of her friends. They believe in expressing their desires freely. They say there’s nothing wrong about seeking physical pleasure.”
Maddie paused her search, worried about the serious tone the conversation had taken. “Did something happen with Annabelle? Did she make you uncomfortable? One of her friends, perhaps?”
Verity paled, but her distress lasted a moment. “No, of course not.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t mind me. I’m simply having trouble deciphering Ernest’s latest. There are too many blotches.”
Nodding, Maddie grabbed her sketchbook and a few past copies ofThe Times. “If you need to talk, let me know.”
“I’m fine.” She eyed Maddie. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Mr. Wentworth’s cabin. He asked me to bring him something to read.”
Verity turned serious. “How’s he faring after Mother was so terrible to him?”
