Page 78 of The Marriage Method

“How many loaves, ma’am?” the baker demanded impatiently.

“We’ll take one,” Effie replied. “Thank you.” She extracted a coin from her reticule to pay for the item. The baker took it, counting out her change.

“I beg your pardon,” Nell said. “Could you point us to Mrs. Davenant’s residence? It’s very near here, I believe.”

“Old lady Davenant?” The baker handed Effie the loaf of bread. “Her what lives in the big house on the corner?”

“Which corner would that be?” Effie asked as she tucked the bread into her bag along with her other purchases.

The baker’s eyes darkened with suspicion. “You acquainted with the lady?”

“Mrs. Davenant is expecting us,” Nell answered him with all the no-nonsense starch of her former position. “So, if you would be so good as to direct us, sir.”

The baker pursed his mouth for a moment before gesturing to the left. “That way,” he said. “The brick house with the white pediments on the windows.”

Nell thanked him for his trouble.

Effie casually gave her food-laden shopping bag to a beggar woman as she and Nell headed off down the road. “Mrs. Davenant is expecting us, is she?” she inquired of Nell with soft amusement.

Nell gave her friend a resolute look. “If she’s harboring an Academy girl, she certainly should be.”

20

The house with the white pediments lay but two streets away on the corner of Whitechapel Road and a narrow, unmarked lane. On applying at the front door, Nell and Effie were greeted by an imperious-looking housekeeper.

“Mrs. Davenant, if you please,” Nell said.

The housekeeper’s cool gaze skimmed over them. “Whom should I say is calling, madam?”

“Miss Trewlove and Miss Flite,” Nell promptly replied. They weren’t here in their personal capacities. They were here on behalf of the school. Their husbands’ names needn’t enter into it. “We have a charitable matter to discuss with your mistress.”

The housekeeper didn’t appear impressed by this information. She left them standing on the front step while she inquired within “as to whether Mrs. Davenant was at home.” Returning a moment later, she conducted them into a small parlor where a silk-clad lady with a lace cap pinned atop her iron-gray curls was seated on a chintz sofa.

“Miss Trewlove and Miss Flite, ma’am,” the housekeeper announced.

Mrs. Davenant rose. “Ladies.”

“Mrs. Davenant,” Nell said. “How do you do? I am Miss Trewlove, and this is Miss Flite.”

“Ma’am.” Effie inclined her head.

Mrs. Davenant returned the perfunctory salute. She motioned for them to sit. “My housekeeper tells me you wished to speak to me about a charitable endeavor. If it’s donations you’re seeking—”

“It is not,” Nell said. She and Effie remained standing. “We’ve come about another matter.”

Nell didn’t mince words. She couldn’t afford to. Not when the housekeeper might, even now, be carrying word of Nell and Effie’s arrival to the other servants. They couldn’t risk Miss Brent bolting.

“Miss Flite and I are affiliated with a charitable school near the Epping Forest,” she said. “An orphan girl lost her way when traveling to join us on Monday. We’ve been at pains to find her.”

“I am sorry for your troubles,” Mrs. Davenant said. “But I know of no such girl.”

“We understand you’ve recently employed a young scullery maid,” Nell said.

Mrs. Davenant gave them a bemused look. “Little Louise? But she’s not an orphan child. She’s a girl of excellent family.”

“Might we inquire as to when she entered your employ?” Effie asked.

“On Wednesday evening,” Mrs. Davenant said.