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“Always. It improves the complexion.”
“I have been told worry causes lines, sir.” She glanced towards the door. “Miss Finch will be pleased to have another gentleman to manage.”
“Does she manage all gentlemen?”
“Only those who require it.”
Baines followed Lady Beckenham’s gaze. Judith had entered, carrying a household ledger beneath one arm and speaking quietly to Simmons. She had removed the offending cap. That was unfortunate.
Her hair had been redressed simply, the chestnut mass twisted at the back of her head with a few lighter strands escaping near her temples. Without that hideous cap, the severity of her appearance altered altogether. Her features were not conventionally delicate, but neither were they plain. Her mouth had a strong, expressive shape which looked as though it had been designed for disapproval and laughter in equal measure, though Baines had yet to witness the latter. Her eyes found him across the room. They were captivating—and suspicious.
He smiled and turned back to Lady Beckenham. “I begin to understand why Blackthorn survives.”
“Judith? She has been running this house since she was eighteen.”
“Why?”
“Because Sir Lionel cannot find his own spectacles whilst wearing them.”
“An exaggeration, surely?”
“Not remotely.”
Baines looked again. Judith had paused beside an elderly gentleman who was clearly complaining of something with grave intensity. She listened without interruption, answered, then summoned a footman with two fingers and in less than a minute solved whatever catastrophe had occupied the guest.
Servants approached her freely. Guests complained to her. Sir Lionel deferred to her memory. She knew who slept where, who attended which dinner, which letters arrived, which servants entered rooms, which guests travelled north or south.
If information were leaving Blackthorn, Judith Finch stood at the centre of every possible route.
The thought sobered him. Not because he believed her guilty of treason, but because for the first time that morning, the investigation had acquired a face he did not wish to suspect. He dismissed the feeling at once.
Lady Beckenham followed his gaze and smiled faintly. “Be careful, Major.”
“Of Miss Finch?”
“Of believing she does not see you.”
Baines looked back at her. “I never assume a lady does not see me.”
Before she could retort, Judith approached.
“Major Baines, I see you have already made yourself comfortable.”
“I have subjected myself to billiards, politics, and Lady Dunsmore. I consider myself fully initiated.”
“Lady Dunsmore has not yet discussed the Act of Union with you.” Lady Beckenham rose. “I shall leave you to save him, Judith.”
“I have no intention of doing so.”
Baines placed a hand over his chest. “Twice before luncheon. I begin to fear for my safety.”
Lady Beckenham laughed and moved away.
Judith watched her go before turning back. “You are not here merely for a house-party.”
Baines allowed his expression to remain pleasantly empty.
“My dear Miss Finch, I have been here scarcely two hours. At least permit me dinner before scolding me about my duty.”
