Page 70 of Speculations in Sin

“He’s adopted another little girl, from what I understand,” Sir Rupert said. “Daughter of a friend. Can you tell me about her?”

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My mouth went dry as I tried to formulate my answer. Both Cynthia and Bobby tensed, the two of them exchanging uneasy glances.

Miss Townsend remained her poised self. “The friend will not wish to come forward,” she said smoothly. “It is enough that Mr. Millburn, on his small salary, was kind enough to take in yet another child.”

Sir Rupert raised his brows at her, realizing that Miss Townsend was leaving out plenty of information. He switched his gaze to me, as though ready to repeat his question, then stilled as he studied my face. I was very hot, so I must have been quite pink with discomfiture. I met his stare without flinching, but it was very difficult to do so.

“I see,” Sir Rupert said, his brows rising. “Pity. Such a witness might make all the difference.”

“The witness will not want her little girl’s name draggedinto a courtroom, or herself sneered upon by righteous gentlemen of the jury,” I informed him.

“Hmm.” Sir Rupert took in my rigidness, Cynthia and Bobby poised to argue in my defense, and Miss Townsend’s quiet but sharp gaze. He let out a sigh. “Ah well. It would have been only one weapon in my arsenal. I have plenty of others.” He rubbed his hands together. “A while since I’ve had such a challenging case.”

He did not seem to realize his statement was in any way distressing. What was like sport to him was life and death to Sam and Joanna. I understood why Miss Townsend sent for him, however. He possessed the need to win and would not cease until he did.

Sir Rupert did not have anything else to ask me. He settled himself comfortably on the sofa, as though prepared to relax there for a time.

I rose, and he hopped to his feet as a gentleman should. “I will go,” I announced. “I can’t leave the kitchen for too many hours.”

“Oh, but you must stay a bit longer,” Miss Townsend said, rising to advance on me. “I truly do want you to instruct my cook in the sorbet. Cynthia said it was divine.”

“And it is,” Cynthia answered. “Come on, Mrs. H. I’ll take you downstairs and introduce you.”

She jumped up to lead me out. Bobby followed us, shutting Miss Townsend in the drawing room with Sir Rupert. I heard Miss Townsend’s polished tones float behind us as she engaged him in conversation.

“Old Rupes adores Judith,” Bobby informed us as we descended the stairs. “Knows he hasn’t a chance, but he’ll do anything for her.”

“If he manages to have Sam acquitted, I will adorehim,” I said. “Bake him anything he likes.”

“Remind me to do you many favors.” Bobby chuckled. “But Rupert’s all right. A bit oblivious to the concerns of us ordinary folk, but a brilliant orator. My brother went to school with him and says Old Rupes had the world eating out of his hand from a young age.”

I believed it, and I hoped so, for Sam’s sake.

Bobby ducked ahead of Cynthia to lead the way down the back stairs. Cynthia and I picked our way more slowly along the narrow staircase, the pair of us having to navigate it with skirts.

“Can you get word to Mr. Thanos for me?” I asked Cynthia as we went. “I have papers I’d like him to look at.”

“He’s buried at the Polytechnic these days,” Cynthia answered. “Almost literally, there are so many books in his office. When he has to hunt for a pen it is like an expedition up the Orinoco.”

“I take it you find these pens for him?” I asked. Cynthia had become an unofficial assistant to Mr. Thanos, helping him prepare for lectures, writing his formulas on the blackboard, and so forth.

“Indeed, I do.” Cynthia’s answer held merriment. “For which he is not indifferent. He heaps gratitude on me by the bucketful.”

“If he is too busy to meet with me, perhaps you could take the papers to him?” I stepped off the final stair and faced her. “And make certain he doesn’t lose them?”

Cynthia hopped from the last step with agility I envied. “I will guard them like a lion. I know exactly how to keep him from losing everything he touches.” Her laughter filled the confines of the world below stairs.

She linked arms with me and led me onward to the small kitchen where crates of oranges and a cheerful cook awaited me.

* * *

When I returned home a few hours later, Tess blithely greeted me, saying she had everything in hand, but her eyes betrayed her relief at my return. She had done an admirable job locating ingredients for a simple supper for the upstairs as well as the staff, but she relaxed as I tied on my apron and joined her.

Mr. Davis went in and out, bringing me wine for my sauces or commanding a footman to heave himself from his rump and do a bit of work. He was as brisk as ever, but I noted the strain on his face.

My hands were sticky from all the orange juicing I’d done in Miss Townsend’s kitchen, but once I’d scrubbed them, I fell into the rhythm of preparing the meal.

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