Mary bit her lip and cast her eyes down, as if struggling to recall.
“Is something wrong, Miss Mason?” Mrs. Simpkins hastened into the front hall, a little winded from rushing from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
“I have received a disturbing note.” Nora pulled it from her pocket and passed it to Mrs. Simpkins, whose eyes only grew larger as she read it.
“It speaks of a man who is passing himself off as Amy’s father. We all know that there was no father. Had there been a responsible sire for the child, her mother may not have died in the way she did.” Nora stopped. Her explanation sounded most uncharitable, and she had not meant to slander the poor woman. “I did not mean that as harsh as it sounded,” she amended. “It is most important that, should anyone inquire about the child while I am gone, you do not give any affirmation that she is here. Amy’s own mother did not know of a father for her child, and this man… this creature… is probably gathering small children to teach them to steal or send up the chimneys. From what I know, it is a horrible business and they treat children like animals.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Keep them inside until I return. I do not want our dear children to end up like that. Do not allow this man entry.” She then turned to her cook. “Mrs. Simpkins, do you know where Woods might be working? I would like him to be on duty at the door, in case I have need of him.”
“No, ma’am. After his meal, I noticed him returning upstairs to work on some of the rooms that needed maintenance. I think he is working on the boy’s bedchambers,” Mrs. Simpkins supplied.
“She… Aunt Gemma said…” interrupted Mary, whom Nora realized had still been struggling to recall more details, as asked. “She said the man had black hair and ’is face had scars on it.”
“Do you remember if there was anything else?” Nora asked gently.
“I am not sure, miss. I think she also said ’e was tall. I tried to remember what she said. The woman trembled so, I dinna wish to press ’er. Even though we were inside the door, she kept looking over her shoulder.”
“Thank you, Mary. That description should help immensely.” Nora noticed that the maid had begun to fidget, perhaps also shaken by the occurrence.
“I will get Mr. Woods, ma’am,” offered Mary. Without waiting for a reply, she shot up the stairs.
Nora saw a slow grin form on Mrs. Simpkins’ face.
“Do you have something worth sharing?” she queried, half-smiling. “I would love some good news.”
“No, Miss Mason. Well, maybe. I noticed them two being friendly to each other, ‘tis all,” she answered.
“Ah. Thank you for telling me. As long as their work does not suffer, I cannot see any reason to forbid a friendship,” Nora answered, considering each word as she spoke and hoping she was not making a mistake. However, she saw naught wrong with couples in the same employment. Decisions seemed harder when more people’s lives were involved.
Moments later, Nora heard footsteps approaching the parlor and stood up to see who it was, on the chance it could be two of the older children. Amos Woods opened the door and Mary followed him into the room. Nora bit her bottom lip at the look of adoration on Mary’s face. A small pang of regret struck her at the realization she might never experience such a feeling towards a man.
“Miss Mason, Mary said you needed me, ma’am.”
“Yes, Woods. I have just received some startling news. We have fourteen children here and they are all dear.” Nora drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves. “One of those children, little Amy, may need to be watched closely. I have received a note which appears to threaten her position here. A man calling himself Mr. Sneed claims to be Amy’s father. I do not know a delicate way to put this, except to say that Amy’s mama could not say who the father was, and therefore, Mr. Sneed cannot know either. Her last wish was that Amy be given a chance at a better life, and we are charged to do that.” She turned to Mary and Mrs. Simpkins. “If you see anyone strange loitering outside the house—even across the street, watching it, please make sure you bring the children inside, lock the doors and alert Mr. Woods and myself. I will not have my children snatched to learn street trades in the East End,” she finished, almost out of breath.
Nora had not realized how upset she had become over this note. She cared for the little girl and would, somehow, see her with a better future. She needed to visit her grandmother. Grandmama would have ideas about how to deal with this additional problem. However, what Nora really needed was answers about the deed. “I shall return in a couple of hours. If you have need of me, a message will find me at Countess Whitton’s town house,” she added as she began to put on her pelisse and hat.
“Yes, ma’am,” Woods responded. “I will take a look around the house now and make sure the windows are secure.”
“That is a good idea. I had not even thought of that. Thank you.”
The servants left the room and checking her hat and pelisse in the room’s mirror, Nora picked up her reticule before walking to the front door. As she was about to open it, there was a knock. The pulse in her throat pounded as she peered through the small peephole. She was momentarily relieved it was a familiar face and opened the door. A completely different tension overtook her—one she was thoroughly unaccustomed to. With a start, she realized was attracted to this man. That only
