Chapter 17
F rankie sat at the wooden school table and twisted her fingers together. She sighed. She tapped her foot. She had to admit to herself that she was not going to be able to enter Jasper’s study without a key. There were any number of places Jasper could hide a key, and after spending the night narrowing down the probability of each potential location, Frankie had risen early, early! so that she might snoop around before Cecelia’s lessons that morning. A fat lot of good it had done her; she had found absolutely nothing. It would be her luck if Jasper kept the key on his person. If he did, she was never getting into that room.
“Oh, Miss Turner!” Cecelia exclaimed, lifting her head from her poetry book, a subject about which Frankie understood very little. “You are torturing me with your silence and sighs. You might as well have worked for the Inquisition. Who would think not saying anything could be so effective?”
Startled, Frankie returned her attention to her pupil, whose chestnut ringlets lay draped over a gown that was a disturbing cross between brown and orange. “What?”
“You are angry about what happened with Lady Evelyn Barker. I promise you I did not know how completely horrid she was; I thought she was only a little horrid. I also did not mean to run into you and knock you into a tray of cucumber sandwiches. Uncle seemed awfully cross when he asked you to go with him. What did he say to you?”
“He was displeased that I did not warn him about your agenda.”
Cecelia rubbed one of the pages between her thumb and forefinger. “Growing up is a terrible thing, is it not, Miss Turner? You think you are right about so many things, and it is humbling when it turns out that is not the case. I wish it were five years ago, when I was living at home with my father and Aunt Margaret and everything was simple and easy. It is not so easy anymore.”
Frankie’s heart pinched at Cecelia’s words. She reached across the table and took one of her hands. “You have been dealt a terrible blow with the loss of your father, Cecelia, and no pretty words of condolences will change that. Growing up is hard, but it is also a privilege. We all make mistakes; we would not become wiser if we did not. Your uncle understands that.”
Cecelia dashed a tear away with the back of her free hand. “My father loved Uncle Jasper even though they did not always get along, but he hated taking charity from him. He would be mortified if he knew I was relying on Uncle’s charity now.”
“Believe me when I say your father rests easy in his grave knowing your uncle is taking care of both you and Madam Margaret. As for your uncle, mayhap he saw you as a duty at first, but from what I have witnessed in the time I have been here, I believe he truly cares for you.”
Cecelia sniffed in a very unladylike manner. “You are only saying that to make me feel better.”
“No,” Frankie said with some surprise, “it would not occur to me to do that.”
Cecelia brightened. “You are right, Miss Turner. I think it truly would not. You always tell the truth. You aren’t even afraid of Uncle, and everyone else treats him as if he is the king of London.”
“Yes, well, perhaps I could stand to learn a little artifice.”
“I like you just as you are, Miss Turner.” Cecelia jumped up and gave her an impulsive hug, and Frankie, stunned and warmed by the gesture, only had her arms halfway around the girl when she pulled back and said, “I have a confession to make.”
Uh-oh. Frankie did not care to be in on any more of Cecelia’s schemes. “No, that is all right. Some secrets are best kept—”
“I saw you kissing Uncle Jasper.”
Frankie’s tongue froze.
Cecelia nodded. “At the soirée. Do not worry, no one else saw; I was alone. I was coming to ask Uncle Jasper to lend me a handful of shillings when he caught you trying to break into his study. His forbidden study. I hid behind the bust in the corridor to see what you would do, and you kissed him.”
“Cecelia—”
She held up a hand. “Let me finish please, Miss Turner. I will admit that at first I was angry because you’d seemed different from all of the other simpering, scheming women out to get him, and it only made me more determined to marry him off to a woman who was sure to ship me away to boarding school. If he married you I knew you would never send me away and I would be stuck here, an eternal reminder of Uncle Jasper’s duty.
“But after I saw Lady Evelyn’s true colors yesterday, I took to my chamber and had a good hard think. I was wrong about her, and I’ve been wrong about Uncle Jasper all this time. He’s been awfully good to me, even when I have not been on my best behavior. It made me wonder if I was wrong about you, too.
“So I said to myself, Cecelia dear, what would be best for Uncle Jasper and not you ? First time I ever asked myself that question, it was. I’ve seen a lot of women throw themselves at Uncle Jasper, but he never looks at any of them the way he looks at you.”
“How does he look at me?” Frankie asked. As if she were a giant thorn in his side?
Cecelia waggled her eyebrows. “Like he wants to throw you on a bed.”
“Cecelia!”
“Oh, all right, I admit I do not fully understand what that means. My friend Catherine used to say it though. I am not sure why two adults would want to share a bed. Do they not usually have separate chambers? What if one of them snores? Do you know why, Miss Turner?”
Frankie opened her mouth to speak but Cecelia, thankfully, cut her off. “My friend would say it whenever a man gave a woman a dark, swoony look. She would say, ‘He wants to throw her on a bed.’ Then I remembered the way Uncle Jasper kissed you in the corridor. I hope someone kisses me like that someday, like they cannot get enough of me and they think I am the most beautiful woman in the world. And I said to myself, why the answer is right in front of you, Cecelia. Uncle Jasper would be happiest marrying your governess. So I want you to know, Miss Turner, that I shall not stand in your way. In fact, I would very much like to help you marry my uncle.”
Frankie gaped at Cecelia. Her normally lightning-speed thoughts had slowed to the pace of molasses. Cecelia’s assumptions about Frankie and Jasper were to be expected. She’d witnessed them kissing, after all, and only the very in love or the very stupid would risk kissing in a corridor outside of wedlock. Cecelia could not be expected to know that Jasper was only being polite in returning the kiss, and Frankie did not think her pride could bear explaining it to her.
She supposed she should be pleased that Cecelia was maturing enough to consider the feelings of others, but the last thing she wanted was for Cecelia to scheme to marry her to Jasper. She would die of humiliation if Jasper were forced into marrying her—the least-desired spinster in all of London—by his niece.
“I do not want to marry your uncle,” Frankie said firmly.
Cecelia scowled. “Why not? You kissed him the same way he kissed you. I saw it.”
“Well.” Frankie struggled to keep her cheeks from flushing. “Kissing aside, I… I have plans for the future that do not include marriage.”
“Such as what?”
“I am going to curate a women-contributed mathematics journal.” It was the first time Frankie had ever spoken her ambition aloud, and she felt absurdly nervous to have shared it with this fifteen-year-old. “As long as the theorem is sound, anyone may participate, no matter their gender, race, or religion.”
“That sounds boring.”
Frankie sighed. “Nevertheless, I have no interest in marrying your uncle, and I assure you that despite what you saw, he has absolutely no interest in marrying me , so please banish the thought from your head.”
“I think you are the right person for Uncle Jasper, but I promise I will not interfere. I have learned my lesson. But there’s something else I’m dying to know. Why were you trying to break into Uncle’s study?”
Frankie floundered. She had managed to avoid Jasper asking that very question over the past several days by dodging into various rooms every time she caught sight of him or heard his voice, and she had not expected it to come from Cecelia. Frankie could lie, but Cecelia believed her to be an honest person, and for some reason Cecelia’s opinion of her deeply mattered. So, she told her the truth. “I cannot tell you.”
Cecelia nodded, as if she were a sage old woman. “I thought you would say that. Is it nefarious?”
“I do not think so.”
“Is it important?”
“ Incredibly so,” Frankie said earnestly. “I will share a secret with you, Cecelia. I am looking for information about someone who is doing terrible things. That information might help lead me to my sister, who has run away.”
Cecelia’s nose wrinkled. “Why would that information be in Uncle Jasper’s study? Do you think he is the person doing the ‘terrible’ things?”
“I do not, but I must be sure.”
Cecelia studied her with the uncanny eyes of a fifteen-year-old who saw more than she should. “It is not an accident that you are here, is it?”
“No.”
“I am certain Uncle Jasper does not have your information, and I am willing to prove it. I know where he keeps the key to his study.”
Frankie’s heart did a slow twist in her chest. “You do?”
Cecelia nodded. “Before I tell you where it is, you must answer me this: What will you do when you realize Uncle Jasper is innocent?”
“I suppose I will leave so that I can help elsewhere.” She had not thought that far ahead, but there would be no need for her to stay. The Dove might have an alternative assignment for her once she’d found Jasper’s ledgers and cleared his name.
“But you and Uncle Jasper…”
“Cecelia, I am sorry you witnessed what you did in the corridor, and I understand how confusing it must be, but there is nothing between your uncle and me. He does not want a wife, and I do not want a husband. Whatever—whatever you think you saw between us, it was simply a mistake. I will miss you when I leave, though. I have grown quite fond of you while I’ve been here.”
Cecelia flopped back in the chair. “Just when I thought I finally had it figured out. All right, Miss Turner. Does this count as the favor I owe you from when I lost at Vingt et Un?”
“Absolutely.”
“If you are caught, please do not tell Uncle Jasper that it was I who gave you the key.”
“I will not be caught. I will wait until your uncle is at Rockford’s so there is no chance of him walking in on me. Tell me, how did you find the key?” Frankie was more than a little curious to learn how Cecelia had ferreted out his well-hidden secret.
“There is not much to do rattling about in this big house,” Cecelia admitted, “and Uncle Jasper believes in the adage of ‘hidden in plain sight.’ I will meet you in the library at the strike of eight when Uncle Jasper leaves.” She pointed at Frankie and in a clandestine whisper added, “Do not be late.”