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“It’s a very impertinent question, to my way of thinking,” said Miss Perkins primly.
It hit him that her ramrod posture and pursed lips were an overcompensation for what she must view as the indiscreet conversation they’d shared.
He’d certainly had the opportunity to go over their conversation in his mind word by word. It had been extraordinary, by any measure.
Remembering her whispered words, the way she’d risen on tiptoe, was not something he should be thinking about. “I’ll be off then,” he said gruffly. “Please excuse me.” He donned his hat.
“Must you go, Father?” asked Adele.
“Afraid I must. My foundry needs me.”
How he wished he could go to the foundry, but he had a job to do first. A promise was a promise.
West had better keep his end of the bargain though.
Chapter 10
The children had been far too restless and excited after the duke left, so Mari was taking them for a walk in the park.
Despite their loud protests, she’d also insisted that it was high time to return Trix to his natural habitat. Michel carried the snake in a basket.
It was the golden hour in Hyde Park. The trees were cloaked in green and the children’s eyes were bright as they skipped along beside her. As they walked down the path, Mari was careful to keep a watch out for any tall, stern-looking matrons.
It would be disastrous if she were caught by Mrs. Trilby with the children.
“May we show you our talents today, Miss Perkins?” asked Adele.
“We brought our chalks,” said Michel. “For drawing on the paving stones. We used to do that by the seaside and people would put money in my cap.”
“Is that what you did when you ran away from the other governesses?”
“Sometimes. Other times Adele made up verses about people and they paid a pence each for a poem. Or she told their fortunes.”
“Or sometimes we just came here to hide,” said Adele. “There are ever so many hiding places. There’s one.” She pointed to an oak tree with a hollow trunk.
“There’s another.” Michel pointed at a hedgerow.
Mari spread a blanket in a shaded, quiet area and lowered Trix’s basket.
“I know you’re attached to Trix,” she said, “but he’ll be so much happier in the park. And Mrs. Fairfield won’t allow him in the house any longer. She was quite firm on the subject.”
“Let’s not release him just yet,” said Michel. “Please, we need him a little longer.”
“Very well. But we’re letting him go before we return home.”
“Would you like to see one of my drawings?” Michel drew some chalks out of the bag of supplies he’d brought with them. “There are some nice flat paving stones here.”
“What will you draw?”
“The seaside.”
“That would be lovely.”
Not much potential for clipping constables with chalk.
Mari was watching Michel draw when she noticed two tall, stout ladies in the distance.
Mrs. Trilby and Miss Dunkirk.
