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I feel certain you know Bernadette’s whereabouts, or at the very least, her destination when she left your institution. After all, do you not make every effort to place your charges in respectable positions when they are of a certain age?
Your failure to respond to my last missive tries my patience as my family is eager to reunite with our dear one. Should I not hear from you in a timely fashion, expect a private investigator to call upon you within a fortnight.
By the by, what name does Bernadette go by now? I am aware it is standard practice for you to rename each child to protect the privacy and confidentiality of the parties involved.
~Mr. Aloysius Petheringham, in a terse letter to Mrs. Hester Shepherd
Still in Mrs. Peagilly’s sitting room
Six tick-tocks of the inlaid mahogany bracket clock later
Faith hadn’t intended to unburden herself, but it had been so long since she’d confided in anyone that the sordid details spilled forth. At first stilted and awkward, then with increasing ease.
“Here, my dear.”
She accepted the lacy bit of cloth passing for a handkerchief that Mrs. Peagilly handed her.
After drying her eyes and blowing her nose, she gave a rueful laugh.
“Now I’m out of a position and haven’t the means to return to London.”
Teacup on her lap and tapping the fingertips of one hand on her chair’s arm, Mrs. Peagilly peered at Faith, those blue eyes alight with wisdom and discernment. “I think I may have a solution that would benefit us both.”
Faith perked up at that. “Have you need of a scribe?”
“Not precisely.” Laying aside her teacup, Mrs. Peagilly shook her head. “I seek a traveling companion who can also act as a scrivener. Someone with a backbone and good sense who won’t faint dead away if she sees an elephant or a spider.”
Elephant? Spider?
Faith couldn’t prevent her eyes from going wide.
Mrs. Peagilly really was the most astonishing woman.
“There are great monstrous spiders in other parts of the world. Rather unpleasant creatures with all those black, buggy eyes and hairy legs. But if you leave them alone, for the most part, they leave you alone.”
For the most part?
Her merry blue eyes sparkled. “My companion must also be capable of making a decent cup of tea over an open fire.”
Faith’s enthusiasm sank to her toes, ensconced in borrowed gold slippers.
Could she make tea over a fire?
In truth, she detested spiders of any size. Large snakes too, but an elephant would be most exciting to see.
“The position sounds remarkable.” A dream come true, in fact. What great adventures she would have. “But I fear I become queasy in a coach.”
“Hmm.” Putting a finger to her cheek, Mrs. Peagilly pressed her lips together. “I warrant you’ve not spent much time in traveling conveyances, have you?”
Her accurate discernment was unexpected. Still, Faith had thought Mrs. Peagilly would rescind the offer with her next breath.
“No,” Faith admitted. “Only my journey to London from where I was raised and then this trip to Dovetonwick Court.”
“Ah. Just as I suspected.” A pleased smile wreathed Mrs. Peagilly’s lined face. “The affliction is much like mal de mer—sea sickness. As one becomes accustomed to the motion, nausea goes away. Ginger tea is an excellent remedy in the meanwhile. Trust me, my dear. I used to suffer too. Regardless, my determination to see the world proved a great incentive to overcome the affliction. I think you might find that true too.”
A tiny sprout of hope dared to spring forth.
Could this be an answer to her prayer?