Chapter 18 #2
Honora stopped. He did not, continuing on toward the library as though he had commented on the weather.
Honora caught up with him. “How long have you known?”
“Long enough.”
Her heart was beating hard now. “Does Leopold know?”
Barnaby looked at her. “No.”
Honora stared. He was not angry, nor was there any threat in his manner. He looked only grave and, to her surprise, almost sympathetic. That quiet sincerity made the shame of deceiving him worse.
“How?”
“You are not the woman the agency sent.”
Honora swallowed. He continued calmly. “I confirmed it.”
“When?”
“Recently.”
She looked toward the library door. “Why have you not told him?”
Barnaby’s expression softened slightly. “Because it was not my place to tell him.” He went on before she could speak. “It is your place.”
She looked at him.
“He should hear it from you.”
“I know.”
“Then tell him.”
Honora’s hands tightened around the fabric of her skirt. “I was going to.”
Barnaby’s gaze stayed on her for a moment, as if trying to decide if she was telling the truth. “You should tell him before someone else does.”
“I will.”
He gave a small nod and went into the library.
Honora remained in the corridor. For a moment, she stood completely still. Then she continued on to the kitchen.
Martha was already there. She looked up as Honora entered and immediately noticed Cecily. “She looks well.”
“She is much better.”
Martha reached out and touched the baby’s cheek. “Good.”
Honora set Cecily into the small chair beside the table and began preparing her breakfast. Martha watched her for a moment.
“You look worse.”
Honora gave her a tired smile. “Thank you.”
“That was not an insult.”
“I know.”
Martha poured tea. “You should sit.”
“I am all right.”
Martha raised one eyebrow. Honora sighed and sat.
Cecily banged her spoon against the tray.
Martha looked at the child. “You are going to have to stop encouraging her.”
“I do not encourage her.”
“You answer every noise she makes.”
“She is a baby.”
“Exactly. Babies must learn that they can entertain themselves once in a while.”
Honora smiled.
“Perhaps I answer her sounds more for my benefit than for hers.”
Martha nodded as she sat opposite her.
For the next several minutes, she told Honora stories about the kitchen staff, including one about a footman who had once mistaken salt for sugar and ruined an entire tray of pudding.
Another involved a maid who had hidden three pounds of flour because she believed the cook was using too much. Cecily seemed fascinated by the sound of Martha’s voice and less interested in her breakfast than she ought to have been.
Honora laughed more than once. She even forgot, for a few minutes, that she had made a decision that would change everything.
Then, she remembered. She looked toward the doorway.
Martha noticed. “What is it?”
Honora shook her head. “Nothing.”
Martha gave her a look. Honora looked down at Cecily.
“I need to speak to him.”
Martha did not ask who. “You probably do.”
Honora stared at her. Martha spread jam on a piece of toast. “You have been staring at the door for five minutes.”
Honora smiled despite herself. “I have not.”
“You have.”
Honora took a breath, then another. She lifted Cecily from the chair.
“I am going to leave her with you for a moment.”
Martha nodded. “Of course.”
“Only for a few minutes.”
“You need not explain.”
Honora set Cecily into Martha’s arms. The baby immediately reached for Martha’s cup. Martha moved it out of reach.
“No.”
Cecily protested. Honora smiled. “She will take your tea if you let her.”
“Not while I am holding it.”
“Good luck.”
Honora stepped away. Martha’s eyes followed her.
“Phoebe.”
She stopped. It was the first time Martha had said her first name. Even though it was a false name, it touched Honora that she used it instead of her formal address.
Honora turned. Martha’s expression was quiet.
“Do not lose your courage now,” she said. “You have worn a path in the floor gathering it.”
Honora stared at her, wondering how Martha seemed to know things she could not possibly know. Then, she nodded and left the kitchen. She hurried toward the study, seeing the door was open before she reached the doorway.
She wanted to pause to catch her breath and rehearse what she would say. But she knew that if she did, she was as likely to turn and flee as she was to enter the study and tell Leopold the truth before her nerve completely left her.
Honora drew in a breath and stepped inside. Leopold was not there. The room was empty except for one person. Lady Isolde stood beside the desk.
A folder lay open beneath her hand. She looked up. Their eyes met. For one long second, neither woman spoke. Honora paid little attention to what Isolde was doing. It did not occur to her to wonder whether it was unusual for her to be standing at Leopold’s desk with him not present.
Then Lady Isolde smiled. “I was looking for writing paper.”
Honora’s gaze dropped to the folder. Lady Isolde closed it.
“You startled me.”
Honora did not answer.
Lady Isolde stepped away from the desk as though there was nothing strange about being alone in Leopold’s study. “How is Cecily?”
“She is better.”
“I am glad.” Her voice was warm, almost convincing. “Was Lord Belgrave up all night with her?”
Honora hesitated. “Yes.”
Lady Isolde’s expression shifted into concern. “How devoted.” She glanced toward the papers on the desk. “He left very early this morning for London. Estate business, apparently. He will not be back until dinner.”
Honora stared at her.
London. Early morning. Not here, not now.
She had finally decided to do the right thing. For once, she had chosen honesty over fear. And she had chosen the wrong moment.
Lady Isolde smiled again. “Was there something you needed, Miss Redmond?”
Honora shook her head. For the first time since she entered Belgrave, she had the uncomfortable feeling that she had walked directly into something she was not supposed to know.
Suddenly, she felt sure that someone else there was keeping secrets, as well. And though Isolde looked perfectly calm and pleasant, Honora was sure it had something to do with her.