That evening, after the guests had gone and the house had quieted, Barnaby found Leopold near the terrace with two glasses of brandy.
“I have a question,” Barnaby said.
“For the tenth time, yes, everyone saw you crying today.”
Barnaby glared at him, thrusting a glass into Leopold’s hands. “You will rue this torment. But I wanted to ask about Isolde. Have you heard word about her?”
Leopold looked at the glass. “She was charged by the magistrate for the abduction two weeks ago. The earl settled the matter before it reached the courts. He paid a substantial sum to the estate and sent her to a distant relative in the north.”
Barnaby nodded in approval. “And London?”
“She is no longer received there.”
“The society pages?”
“Her name disappeared within the month.”
“And the Morning Post?”
“They found a banking crisis.”
Barnaby shook his head. “Remarkable how a single lie can disrupt so many things.”
Leopold shrugged. “A pebble skipped in the lake makes ripples as far as the eye can see.”
Barnaby nodded again. “And the real Miss Redmond? What became of her?”
“I saw to it that she was hired at Belgrave.”
“As Cecily’s nursemaid?”
“Properly this time.”
Barnaby guffawed. “How did Honora manage that introduction?”
“She apologized for the door, the money, and the lie.”
“In that order?”
“In that order.”
“And she forgave Honora?”
Leopold nodded, chuckling. “She told Honora she had been placed in far worse situations and that at least this one came with a good ending.”
Barnaby smiled. “I like her.”
“Honora does too. She said she reminds her a little of Celestine.”
Barnaby nodded once more. “Will you be hiring any more servants?”
Leopold shrugged. “As needed, I suppose. Mrs. Pritchard will be staying on. Martha is promoted to housekeeper. But she insisted that she has a say in finding her replacement.”
Barnaby laughed. “She will keep you waiting forever.”
“I suspect she will.”
After Barnaby took his leave that night, Leopold returned to the old study. He had been looking for a document when he found his father’s letter again.