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“I know this design will work,” he said with a delighted smile. “It’s all because of you, Mari.”
“Good luck.”
“I don’t need luck. I have you. Oh I almost forgot.” He paused at the door, and came back, drawing something from his inner coat pocket. “I was supposed to deliver this letter. What a fool I am. I can only say my head was addled.”
“A letter for me?”
“From a lawyer in Cheapside.”
He handed her the letter.
She sat, stunned, as he kissed her one more time and left.
A letter from Mr. Shadwell.
She hardly dared open it. She left the bed and put her clothing back on.
It was still dawn. If she hurried, she could be down the hallway and back in her own room with none the wiser.
She ran swiftly and made it to her chambers, collapsing on the bed, breathing heavily.
She slit the letter open with trembling fingers.
Dear Miss Perkins,
My son informs me that you visited our offices and that he may have neglected to mention my existence. If you are, indeed, the child whom I sought at the Underwood Orphanage and Charity School, I would very much like to meet you. I will await you next Thursday at one o’clock at my offices. Please do bring any proof you may have of your claim.
Sincerely,
Mr. Arthur Shadwell (the Elder. And the Sober), Lawyer
Mari reread the letter for the third time. On the fourth reading, hope began to trickle. On the fifth, a rush of joy flooded her heart and she leapt out of her chair, dancing with the letter around the room.
Proof of her claim. Her claim to be wanted, to be searched for, to besomeone.
This could change everything. If she and the children left Southend a few days early, she would be back in London in time to keep the appointment.
Her birth no longer a mystery. The possibility of... well, there were endless possibilities. She could have family in London.
Ann Murray. She could haveamother.
Edgar had said he wanted to know everything about her and it had made her so sad to think that there was nothing she could tell him. Nothing but lies.
And now... the possibility of a truth to tell. Whatever it was, it would be the truth.
At last.
There was a knock at her door. The twins burst into the room, followed by Harriet. “Where’s Father?” asked Adele.
“We’ve already had breakfast,” said Michel. “We want to go fly our kite. It’s a windy day. No sun at all. Perfect for kite flying.”
“Your father had to leave early,” Mari said. “He had a brilliant idea for his engine.”
“He’s gone?” Michel’s eyes clouded over. “But he said we would fly the kite again today.”
“Why are you still wearing the same dress?” asked Adele.
“Ah...” There was no putting anything over the precocious Adele. “I fell asleep in it, silly me. And then I awoke early and your father told me he was leaving and I haven’t had a chance to change into something new.”
