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“Your books do so well, and…I just thought… Clara, I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I really am so very sorry. More than I can say.” Kitty closed the last trunk and stepped aside for a footman to take it to the waiting carriage. “I’ll find another bookshop who can be your liaison.”

“You won’t tell me why you did it?”

“Does it matter? Would it change what I did?”

“I don’t know.”

Kitty’s eyes were bloodshot, and she looked exhausted down to her bones. And scared. “To make a very long and sordid story short, my father gambles.” She waved at the detritus of Devil’s Night all around them with a sneer. She did not notice Devil at the balcony overhead. “And now my sister is in trouble. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t.”

It was not an unusual situation. Which did not make it any less awful.

“When you get back to London,” Clara said, “talk to the Spinster Society. They’ll help your sister.”

“Even now?”

“Your sister did not blackmail me. I wish you’d come to us first.”

Kitty smiled sadly. “Me too.”

Chapter Thirty

Clara did not have a chance to be alone with Bram before they left for London, nor on the journey back. Sybil sat next to her, itching to get back home and chattering the entire way. Heloise and Martin followed in another carriage, and just as soon as they visited the solicitor, they would be married by special license. Devil had worked whatever nefarious magic he employed to get impossible things done quickly and had the wagers and winnings sorted before sundown.

Rosalinde felt too enclosed in the carriage and opted to join Blanche on her way back to Wales, where they could stop whenever Rosalinde needed to walk the fields and feel the sun on her face.

It boggled the mind that they had only been gone for less than a fortnight. London was the same.

Clara was not.

When they pulled up to the Spinster House, Bram helped them out of the carriage. He paused, bringing his lips to Clara’s ear. “I’ll see you soon.”

And then he climbed back inside and rode away.

Clara did not know what to think about that.

Priya waited on the front step, wearing her usual dirt-stained apron, her gold bangles flashing. Matilda and Emmeline crowded behind her. “Well done, you,” she said. “Come and have a cup of tea.”

Tea was, naturally, whiskey in the parlor.

Heloise and Martin were shown to a guest room while Sybil sprawled on the settee, kicking her shoes halfway across the room. “I am famished. I can’t stop eating. I think I ate an entire wheel of cheese this morning.”

Clara sat as well but did not sprawl. Some habits were too ingrained. “I saw it. It was…disconcerting.”

“A natural wonder, you mean.”

“There was nothing natural about it.”

“I also ate a scone,” Sybil said in her own defense.

“Four scones,” Clara corrected her. “And all of the currant jam.”

“I am sure she needs to get her strength back,” Matilda offered.

“She does,” Clara agreed. “But that jam was my favorite. She nearly bit my hand when I reached for it.”

“It’s nothing to the name you called me,” Sybil said, both proudly and cheerfully. “Our Lady Clara has the mouth of a sailor.”

If they only knew.