Wicked Intentions (Maiden Lane #1)(12)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

“Oh, my.” Temperance set her hands on her hips and arched her back, stretching. “I’d quite forgotten that Captain Hollingbrook was to return soon.”

Silence felt the ripple of quiet joy spread through her at just the mention of her husband’s name. William had been away at sea for months, captaining the Finch, a merchant ship returning from the West Indies.

She ducked her head as she replied to her sister. “He’s due any day now. I hoped that when he returns, you and Winter would come and sup with us in celebration.”

When Temperance didn’t respond immediately, Silence looked up. Her sister was frowning down at a pile of turnips on the table.

“What is it?” Silence asked.

“What?” Temperance glanced up quickly, her face smoothing. “Oh, nothing, dear. You know Winter and I would be pleased to dine with you and Captain Hollingbrook. It’s just that we’re so busy with the home right now….” Her words trailed away as she looked about the big kitchen.

“Perhaps, then, it is time to hire more help. Nell works hard, but she’s only one woman.”

Temperance laughed, but the sound was hard and short. “If we had a patron to supply the home with money, we would. As it is, we were just able to finally pay this month’s rent and last’s today. If we’re late again, Mr. Wedge may well evict us.”

“What?” Silence sank into a kitchen chair. “I have nearly a pound left from my grocery money. Would that help?”

Temperance smiled. “No, dear. That would only help us for a little while, and I don’t want to take Captain Hollingbrook’s money. I know how you and he scrimp and save.”

Silence colored a little. William was a wonderful husband, but a merchant ship’s captain didn’t make all that much, especially when he had a wife and an elderly mother and spinster sister to keep.

“What about Concord?”

Temperance was shaking her head. “Winter says the brewery has lost money since Father’s death. And besides, Concord has his own family to take care of.”

Silence shook her head. She’d had no idea Concord was in financial straits, but then the men of the family didn’t always like to talk business with their women. Concord and his wife, Rose, had five adorable children and another on the way.

She looked up. “And Asa?”

Temperance grimaced. “You know Asa has always been scornful of the home. I think Winter hates the thought of going to him again with hand outstretched.”

Silence pulled the turnip toward herself and picked up a knife to chop off the greens. “Winter is the least prideful man I know.”

“Yes, of course, but even the most humble of men have just a touch of pride. Besides, even if Winter did ask Asa, there’s no guarantee he would help.”

Silence wanted to protest that of course Asa would help if he could, but the truth was that she was uncertain. Asa had always walked apart from their family, secret and alone.

“What shall you do?” Silence began dicing a turnip, her little pieces more odd lumps than squares. She’d never been very good at dicing.

Temperance took up another knife but she hesitated. “As to that, I already have a plan.”

“Yes?”

“You must promise not to tell our brothers.”

Silence looked up. “What?”

“Or Verity either,” Temperance said. Verity was the eldest of the Makepeace family.

Silence stared. What secret would Temperance want to keep not only from their brothers, but also their sister?

But Temperance’s expression was almost fierce. If Silence wanted to know, she’d have to promise. “Very well.”

Temperance set down the knife and leaned close to whisper, “I’ve met someone who will introduce me to the influential and wealthy people of London. I’m going to find a new patron for the home.”

“Who?” Silence knit her brows.

Their family was a humble one. Father had been a beer brewer, and on their father’s death, Concord had taken over the family business. Father had believed deeply in learning and had seen to it that all her brothers were very well educated in religion, philosophy, and Greek and Latin. She supposed in that way they might be called intellectuals, but that didn’t take away from the fact that they worked for their living. The kind of people Temperance was talking about were well out of their league.

“Who is this powerful friend?” Silence saw the moment when something shifted behind her sister’s eyes. Temperance was a wonderful person, which was perhaps why she was also a terrible liar. “Temperance, tell me.”

Her sister tilted her chin. “His name is Lord Caire.”

Silence’s brows furrowed. “An aristocrat? How in the world did you find an aristocrat to help you?”

“Actually, he found me.” Temperance pursed her lips, her eyes firmly fixed on the growing mound of chopped turnip roots. “Do you think anyone really likes turnips?”

“Temperance…”

Temperance poked the tip of her knife into a white cube and held it up. “They are very filling, of course, but really, when was the last time you heard someone say, ‘Oh, I’m so very fond of turnips’?”

Silence set down her knife and waited.

The lid of the pot over the fire rattled, and Temperance’s knife thunked against the table for perhaps a half minute before she broke.

“He followed me home the night before last.”

“What?” Silence gasped.

But her sister was speaking rapidly. “That sounds worse than it is. He was quite harmless, I assure you. He merely asked me for my help in speaking to some people in St. Giles. In return, I requested that he introduce me to the people he knew who were wealthy. It’s a very practical arrangement, truly.”

Silence eyed her sister skeptically. The picture Temperance drew was altogether too rosy. “And I suppose this Lord Caire is an ancient gentleman, white-haired and bony-kneed?”

Temperance winced. “His hair is white, actually.”

“And his knees?”

“I hope you don’t think I stare at a gentleman’s knees.”

“Temperance…”

“Oh, very well, he’s a young and rather handsome man,” Temperance said not very graciously. Her cheeks had pinkened.

“Dear Lord.” Silence stared with concern at her sister. Temperance was a widow of eight and twenty, but sometimes she behaved with all the circumspection of a silly girl. “Think. Why would Lord Caire pick you in particular to lead him about St. Giles?”