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Livvie hurriedly gathered the two valises and set out after them. “Is he a friend of Father’s?”

“Shh,”Verity and Bertha simultaneously whispered.

“Is he?” Livvie repeated in more measured tones.

“No,” Verity said tersely.A friend of Father’s?Pfft.If there’d been such a generous figure, he’d failed the Lovelaces magnificently these past years.

At last, her inquisitive sister ceased with her questions. When they reached the servants’ door, Verity tried the handle.

Locked.

“What did you expect? That it would be left open?” Bertha muttered. “Here.” Reaching past Verity, she slid a stickpin inside the lock.

Verity rounded her eyes. When in blazes had their nursemaid learned to pick locks?

“What are you doing?” Livvie asked the other woman. “What is she doing?” she demanded, putting that same question to Verity when the nursemaid remained fixed on the task of breaking them inside.

Verity touched a fingertip to her lips and gave a slight shake of her head.

A moment later, the lock gave with a satisfying click. “There.” Bertha pushed the door panel open and grabbed one end of the trunk.

When Verity made no attempt to take the other side, she gave her a look.

Springing into movement, Verity took the opposite handle, and followed the older woman inside. Verity hurriedly closed the door behind them, erasing the miniscule hint of light that had peeked down from the night sky, and replacing it with a shroud of darkness.

“Can I talk now?” Livvie whispered.

Could she?

Could they?

Bertha glanced around uneasily. “You’re certain he sacked the servants? Didn’t keep on the butler and housekeeper, as is the way of the lords?”

“Who?” Livvie pressed.

Giving Bertha a warning look, Verity set down her end of the trunk and moved close to her sister. “Someone I know. A friend.”

“The gentleman who saved you in the sewers?”

“Of a sort,” she hedged.

Several lines of confusion creased Livvie’s brow. “Either it is or isn’t.”

“Shh.”Verity and Bertha spoke in unison.

Verity cleared her throat. “You were ... correct earlier. In your supposition of Lord Maxwell and his kindness.” She grimaced around that last word.

“Kind, indeed,” Bertha muttered, and Verity shot her another warning look.

“But you said—”

“I was wrong. I heeded your advice. I called on him as you suggested.”

Livvie’s eyebrows touched her hairline.

And even in the pitch-dark kitchens, Verity caught the romantic glimmer in her sister’s eye, followed by a sigh. There’d be time enough for alarm about that naivete. For now, it served its purpose.

Except ... Livvie did a sweep of the rooms. “If he’s allowed us to live here, why are we sneaking in?” Suspicion laced her question.