Page 57 of The Confessions of a Lady
Instead of excitement, Penny felt a heavy dread.
She wasn’t ready to give the letter she found to Constable Sweet. But nor could she afford to wait. While so much evidence pointed to Liam’s guilt, not the least, the Queen’s interest in him, her instincts told a different tale. And her instincts had never steered her wrong before.
‘It’s an impossible situation,’ she whispered to the glass.
The glass had no helpful advice to give her.
And why would Mrs Harding tell her the story about the maid and the viscount? Did she suspect Penny’s attraction to Liam? Was she that transparent? Or had Liam given them away somehow to his housekeeper?
‘Nothing makes sense any more.’
Again, the glass remained unhelpfully silent.
Then there was her visit with Millicent, Ivy and Hannah. Millicent, urging her to change her stars.
‘How the bloody hell am I supposed to do that?’ The glass squeaked as she rubbed harder. ‘Exactly. I can’t just leap into the unknown like some silly ninny expecting to fly when I know I’ll crash.’
What if her instincts were wrong and Liam was guilty? The evidence certainly led her in that direction. Harriet could finally be out of her cell. And Liam would be taking her mother’s place in shackles. The image of his shoulders slumped, his head hanging in defeat, broke something fragile and bright within Penny. She didn’twanthim to be guilty.
What kind of daughter chooses a man over her mother?
Every woman was tasked with leaving her family to cleave to her husband’s. But Liam would never be Penny’s husband. And she would never leave her mother in a prison cell. Regardless of Mrs Harding’s story, a girl couldn’t change her stars. Not when so many of Penny’s stars were falling.
She kept polishing as evening fell to the darkest hours of night and the household slowly slipped into sleep. Putting the last glass back in its straw-packed crate, she walked to the kitchen. Waiting for the clock to strike midnight, Penny stared into the dying embers, wishing for the impossible. Liam’s innocence. Her mother’s freedom. The courage to defy society’s dictates. The power to catch all her falling stars and throw them back into the sky in a pattern that fit.
Had it only been two weeks since her last meeting with Constable Sweet? Two weeks since she met Liam for the first time, and yet it felt like a lifetime.
A scratch on the wood pulled Penny from her reverie. She moved quickly, opening the creaking kitchen door and slipping outside.
‘Are you well, little dove?’ Constable Sweet’s familiar face peered out of the shadows. His moustache caught the lamplight from the kitchen and she noticed how grey it was. His face was creased with new lines of worry and his eyes flitted over her anxiously.
‘I am very well. Are you, Constable Sweet?’ She reached out and put a reassuring hand on his coat sleeve. The wool was wet from evening mist.
‘There are rumours swirling, Penny. We’re running out of time.’
Alarm thrilled through her. ‘Whatever do you mean?’
Constable Sweet stepped closer, tobacco and mint filling the air between them. ‘I was in Commissioner Worthington’s office the other day, reporting on our borough. Our meeting was interrupted by none other than the prime minister himself.’
Penny’s eyes grew round. ‘Did you actually see him?’ She couldn’t imagine rubbing shoulders with such powerful men. Although, she was on a first-name basis with the Duchess of Dorsett, and one could argue her power to influence the Queen certainly rivalled Prime Minister Russell’s. But this didn’t seem the time to mention her affiliation with Philippa.
Constable Sweet raised his bushy eyebrows and winked at Penny. ‘I did more than see him, dove. I kept close to the door and heard every word they said to each other.’ He tapped his left earlobe. ‘I might be getting older, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.’
‘Constable Sweet! Eavesdropping on the prime minister and commissioner? What if you’d been caught?’
The constable’s moustache twitched as he winked at Penny. ‘There now, dove. Don’t you worry about me. Most of police work is being in the right place at the right time with your ear to the right door. Now, do you want to hear what I learned or keep scolding me like a sour old school marm?’
Of course she wanted to hear his news. She pressed her lips together and nodded.
Pulling his pipe and a tin of tobacco out of his pocket, Constable Sweet methodically began stuffing the bowl. ‘The prime minister has his own men working on the case. If theyfind evidence against Lord Renquist before we do, they’ll be no reward money for you, no promotion for me.’ He didn’t need to mention what that would mean for Penny’s mother.
‘Blast! So even the prime minister is focused on Li… Lord Renquist?’ It didn’t bode well for his chances of being innocent.
‘They’re all coming to this ball tomorrow. The prime minister’s men used to be friends of Renquist’s. You know one of their wives. Major General Drake’s new lady.’
‘Millicent?’
‘Aye, she’s the one. The other bloke’s a duke. Lieutenant General Killian, Duke of Everton.’
