Page 12 of A Pearl Possessed

"By St. Mary's medal...a man the size and strength of Obadiah can't thrash a trio of ruffians on the ton's favorite shopping venue in full daylight and not cause tongues to clack." He took a measured breath and continued. "Neither can you expect to keep your kerfuffle quiet. And you can't blame me for anon ditscorching all the sitting rooms in Mayfair."

Adrienne came to a sudden decision. "You're right. But the important thing is I don't know if my attackers were sent by the Marquess...or..." Her voice cracked, and she nearly lost her nerve.

Dickie rose and came around to her side of the table. He squatted low next to her chair and rubbed the small of her back, making soothing sounds like one would use to calm a child. "What can I do? Tell me who hurt you, lass. Who needs killing?"

6 September,1826

Housekeeper's Sitting Room

Townhouse Number One, Grosvenor Street

Cassandra Collins took the measure of the elderly aristocrat sitting across from her. She hadn't been able to trust anyone in a very long time, except for her savior and mentor, Captain El.

However, Lady Camilla Bowles Attington Carrington Whitby was different. She recognized a certain kindred spirit in the delicate, handsome woman's eyes. Lady Camilla must have been a beauty in her day. Which would explain the long line of wealthy, noble husbands she'd gone through. Lady Camilla, she finally decided, was a survivor.

Cassandra could trust this woman's insights on how to extricate all of them from the dangers of an unknown blackmailer. She decided to go all in and assist with her secret maneuverings to find safe harbors, er husbands, for all of Framlingwood's mistresses whilst nudging the lonely earl toward a happiness of his own.

"Mistress Number one, Adrienne Godet, is tough to get close to. I know she's harboring some secret, but she came here four years ago with a broken heart. I believe she shares a past with the magnificent guard, Obadiah, assigned to keep us safe." She picked up a fan and went through the motions of cooling her face. Lady Camilla silently nodded in agreement and then they both broke out in laughter.

"I think we don't need to worry about finding a husband for that one. He's already here." Lady Camilla peered over a set of dainty half spectacles from the list she was making on her side of the tea table. "What about Mistress Number Two?"

"Sophia Hawksworth has been with us for um, three years now, I think. She's a harpist who is so talented, she'd be a sensation in one of Covent Garden's music houses. Unfortunately, she has little self-confidence and even demurs when we all congratulate her on the beauty of her performances."

"Do you know anything of her past?"

"No. She's obviously terrified of something, or someone. She rarely even ventures forth to the shops with footmen."

"Hmmm..." Lady Camilla tapped her sharpened quill pen against the list thoughtfully. "I believe what this young woman needs is some instruction in notation and theory to help build her confidence in her music." She gave Cassandra a saucy. "I know just the man to instruct her in the, um, musical vibrations of the universe."

Cassandra continued. "And then there's Saida. What a gifted healer, but something happened in her native North African home."

Lady Camilla removed her spectacles and leaned closer. "What did she do?"

El told me she'd been accused of making a mistake in a packet of herbs that supposedly killed a man's wife. El's convinced that the charges were false, made up by the gentleman who, um, needed to get rid of one of his wives. But, of course, Saida was poor, and he was a wealthy merchant, so..."

Camilla filled in the rest. "She was a convenient scapegoat." She sat back into the comfortable cushioning of the housekeeper's chaise and gazed out the long windows overlooking the rear kitchen garden.

"El would like to see her get more training in the ways of medicine so that she could help with all the, um, mishaps that seem to happen to El's employees from time to time."

"Ah..." The idea that came to Lady Camilla apparently lifted her right out of the comfort of the chaise. She paced a bit and then stopped, holding her writing instrument in the air. "I know a very popular Highlander who is tired of being the favorite, gorgeous physician at the beck and call of the wives of Prinny's inner circle. I'm fairly certain he'd be all too happy to earn the means to live his own life, far from the pampered women of Mayfair."

"Wonderful." Cassandra stood as well and walked toward the window to stare out at the garden and watch the pot boy gather lemon verbena for the special tea she liked to make for herself.

"Mistress Number Four is my personal favorite, although I would hate for any of the other women to know."

"Why is that?" Lady Camilla ended her question on a high note.

"She is so entertaining, all of us can enjoy her antics on the nights the earl isn't here, since we can't attend the theater."

"What's her story?"

"All I know for sure is that she ran afoul of a theater group in Edinburgh which effectively ended her career. I believe she was wrongly accused of theft, according to Captain El."

"Surely she could return to the stage here in London. I know plenty of actresses who change their names and re-invent themselves in the theaters of Covent Garden."

"She probably could...but there's another problem."

"Which is?"