“Has anyone been talking out of turn to His Grace?”
“Not that I know of.” Morgan frowned. “Mostly, the staff are very loyal to the earl, as he provided employment when His Grace was letting junior staff go, to hear them tell it. And I can.” Morgan sighed and hung a little on his arm. “I can hear them tell it. I will be on my knees for a long time tonight and every night. I wonder if I will sing again someday?”
“You like to sing?”
“Love to.” Morgan beamed at him. “I used to sing with my mother, and sometimes Anna would join us, but she was an adolescent just as my voice was becoming reliable, and singing was not her greatest talent.”
“So you are related to her?” Val asked, but Morgan’s hand dropped from his arm. “Morgan,” he chided, “Anna brought you into the household with her, she has admitted to Westhaven she knew you when you could hear, and Dev has seen the two of you tete-a-tete over something serious.”
Too late, Morgan realized the trap speaking had sprung on her. Deaf and mute, she could not be questioned; she could not be held accountable for any particular knowledge or intelligence.
Val peered down at her as they approached the park. “Dev says Anna has secrets, and I fear he is right. They are your secrets, too, aren’t they?”
“It’s complicated and not entirely my business to tell,” she said, speaking slowly. “This is part of the reason you must not tell anyone I can hear.”
“I do not like lying, Morgan. Particularly not to my brother, regarding people in his employ.”
“The earl hired me knowing I could not hear or speak,” Morgan pointed out. “He is not cheated when you keep this confidence for me. And if it comforts you to know it, I am not even going to tell Anna I can hear.”
“You think she would begrudge you your
“No.” Morgan shook her head then grinned. “I can hear that, when I shake my head.” She did it again then her smile faded. “Back to Anna and me… For the past two years, Anna is all that connected me with a world I had long since stopped hearing. I owe her more than you know, and yet, having me to look after has also meant she’s had to look after herself. Were I not in such great need, Anna might have given up. She might have taken some options for herself that were not at all desirable. In any case, I do not want to disclose I can hear, not until I know it’s going to last.”
“That much I can understand,” Val said. “How long do you think it will take to convince yourself you are back among the hearing?”
“Oh,
The way she’d said his name, with wonder, and joy and gratitude, it lit the places inside him that had been going dark since his closest brother had died. The music rumbling through him when he watched her hearing the sound of childish laughter was not polite, graceful, or ornamental. It was great, bounding swoops and leaps of joy, and unstoppable, unending gratitude.
Brothers slowly wasted of terrible diseases; they died in asinine duels in provincial taverns; and sometimes, a gifted pianist’s hand hurt unbearably, but Morgan could also
He sat beside her for a long time in the sunshine and fresh air, just listening to the park and the city and to life.
“Gentlemen.” Westhaven addressed his brothers as they ambled back from a morning ride. “I need your help.”
Val and Dev exchanged a look of quiet surprise.
“You have it,” Dev said.
“Anything you need,” Val added. “Anything. Anywhere, anytime.”
Westhaven busied himself fiddling with the reins of the rangy chestnut gelding Dev had put him on. He might have expected ribbing from his brothers or teasing or idle curiosity, but their unconditional response caught him off guard.
Dev smiled at him, a smile more tender than humorous. “We love you, and we know you are all that stands between us and His Grace. Say on.”
“Good to know one’s sentiments are reciprocated,” Westhaven said, eyeing the sky casually.
“I suspect whatever you need help with,” Val chimed in, “we are discussing it here because you do not want to be overheard at home?”
“Perceptive of you,” Westhaven said. “The matter at hand is Mrs. Seaton. She is not, as Dev has suggested, exactly what she appears to be. She tells me there is no spouse trying to hunt her down, nor is she wanted on criminal charges, but she is carrying some burden and will not enlighten me as to its nature. She claims the matter is confidential, and it necessitates her departure from my employ in the near future.”
Dev quirked an eyebrow. “We are to find out for you what plagues her and make it go away.”
“Not so fast.” Westhaven smiled at his darkest brother, the one most likely to solve a problem with his fists or his knife. “Before we go eavesdropping in doorways, I thought we might first combine our knowledge of the situation.”
When the brothers returned to the townhouse, they took their lemonade—cold tea for Val—into the library, and closed and locked the door. After about an hour’s discussion, they boiled down their objective knowledge to a few facts, most of those gleaned from the agency that had recommended her:
Anna Seaton had come down from the North about two years ago and was on her third post has housekeeper. She’d worked first for an old Hebrew, then briefly for a wealthy merchant before joining the earl’s household almost six months ago. At each location, Morgan became part of the household staff, as well. Anna admitted to having a brother and a sister, but being orphaned, had been raised by her grandfather, the florist.
“He had to be one hell of a successful florist,” Dev observed. “Didn’t you say Anna could speak several languages? Tutors, particularly for females, cost money.”
“She plays the piano, too,” Westhaven recalled. “That means more money, both to own the instrument and to afford the instruction.”
“I wonder,” Val said slowly, “if Morgan is not this sister Anna has mentioned to you.”
“I suppose she could be.” Westhaven frowned. “They do not look particularly alike, but then neither do many sisters.”
“They have the same laugh,” Val said, surprising his brothers. “What? Morgan can laugh—she isn’t simple.”
“We know, but it’s an odd thing to notice,” Westhaven said, noting his youngest brother was more than a little defensive of the chambermaid. “You’re reminding me, though, Anna said her parents were killed when their buggy overturned and slid down an embankment. They were on an errand to look at a pony for her younger sister. Then you tell me Morgan lost her hearing after a buggy accident left her pinned in cold water. I think you’ve put the puzzle pieces together correctly, Val.”
Dev drew a finger around the rim of his glass. “We need to send someone north who can find us a very wealthy elderly florist, perhaps two years deceased, perhaps still extant, with three grandchildren, whose son died in a buggy accident that cost one grandchild her hearing. How many of those can there be?”
“Don’t rule out a title,” Val said quietly.
“A title?” Westhaven winced, hating to think he might have been cavorting with some duke’s daughter. That hit a little too close to home.
“Anna once teased me about my… public mannerism,” Val said.
“You mean”—Dev grinned—“your mincing and lisping?”
“And so on.” Val nodded and waved a hand. “She said something like: You are no more a mincing fop than I am an earl’s granddaughter. I remembered it, because Her Grace is an earl’s granddaughter.”
“We can keep it in mind,” Westhaven said, “intuition being at least half of what we have to go on. Anything else?”
“Yes.” Dev rose from the sofa and stretched. “Suppose we find out who our housekeeper really is, find she’s suspected of some wrongdoing, put the accusations to rest, and so forth. Are we going to all this effort just to keep you in marzipan for the foreseeable future? There are easier ways to do that.”
