Page 52 of The Redemption of the Shrew

A brilliant notion descended from the spheres. Why hadn’t she realized this before? If she hadn’t been so caught up in her own difficulties, she might have. Not only was it a marvelous idea, but she might be able to do Elspeth a good turn—if her guess was correct.

She would lose Elspeth’s services. That made her think hard for a while, for she loved Elspeth dearly . . . but the maid would still be her friend, and . . . She smiled to herself, remembering her youthful idealism. She might never wed the man she loved, but why shouldn’t Elspeth have a happy ever after? Love—if it truly was love—should not be denied.

She set down her stitchery, leapt up, and pulled on the bell rope. When Elspeth arrived, she was pacing up and down before the window, thinking and planning.

“You rang, miss?”

Gloriana stopped pacing and smiled at her maid. “You told me you fell in love at a house party.”

A shadow crossed Elspeth’s face. “Yes, miss.”

It occurred to Gloriana that perhaps she should have eased her way more gently into the discussion.

It was too late for that. She soldiered on. “As far as I know, you’ve only attended me at one house party—at my brother’s estate last summer.”

“Yes, miss.” Elspeth’s expression was wary.

“It was Lord Hythwick’s valet, wasn’t it? A Mr. Turner, I believe.”

Elspeth didn’t respond.

“You were upset right afterward. Your eyes were all red and puffy. Was it because you had to say farewell to the man you loved?” Gloriana’s heart squeezed. “Please tell me, Elspeth. It’s important.”

“I’d rather not discuss this, Miss Glow. I don’t want to think about him. I’m not like you. I can’t cling to the same hopes for years and years. I set them aside and get on with my life.”

“Maybe you don’t have to set them aside. Maybe you can marry him after all!”

Chapter 11

Hope slipped into Elspeth’s heart—for despite her brave words, she couldn’t forget Mr. Turner, no matter how hard she tried.

“I think you’ll like what I’m suggesting,” Gloriana said. “It will benefit you as well as me—assuming the man you wished to marry was indeed Mr. Turner.”

Heavens, yes. With all her heart. But it was impossible, so why imagine it might be?

Drat, she couldn’t help but imagine it. Meanwhile, Gloriana fidgeted, sighed, clasped and unclasped her hands, sighed again, and fidgeted some more. This was her version of patience, and it wouldn’t last long.

Elspeth took a deep breath. “Miss Glow, tell me what you have in mind.”

“I thought you might know how to contact Mr. Turner privately.” She paused. “In return for his assistance, I would compensate him handsomely.”

Elspeth’s heart sank as she realized what her mistress was asking. A member of the ton, with powerful relations to support her, had no idea of the potential consequences of such a plan to a mere servant. Severely, she said, “For stealing back the Book of Hours, I assume.”

“Yes!” Gloriana cried. “Darling Elspeth, I knew you would understand.”

“Indeed I do, but that would be most improper of him, Miss Glow.” Not to mention stupid and dangerous. “He is in Lord Hythwick’s employ.”

“Improper to retrieve something his master stole?” Gloriana demanded.

“Perhaps not, when you put it that way. But it would mean risking his livelihood—maybe even his freedom.”

“I don’t see how. Lord Hythwick couldn’t accuse him of stealing something that wasn’t even his.”

“No, but I don’t trust the Quality, miss, particularly not Lord Hythwick. He might accuse him of stealing something else, just for the sake of revenge.”

“He is a vengeful sort of man,” Gloriana admitted. “But why should he suspect Mr. Turner more than any other servant?”

“Because he is more likely to know about it than any other servant.”