Page 46 of The Lady's Last Mistake
Elyse perked up. “Is he?” She frowned. “Well, that is kind of him. I suppose he received an invitation as well, to discuss his free clinic?”
Until then, Cassie hadn’t thought of it. But Grant hadn’t uttered a word about his clinic.
She shook her head, and Elyse sighed. “What is his game then?”
The midwife had never been very open about her private life, but Cassie could tell she had reservations about men and their intentions. But then, she huffed a laugh.
“A lord with a charity clinic and anom de guerre.” She arched a brow at Cassie. “How much you two have in common.”
She nudged Elyse, refusing to rise to the bait. But her friend had a point. The clinic was of paramount importance to him, just as Hope House was to her. And it wasn’t the clinic itself he cared about; the people it served were importantto him. He’d shown that clearly with Mr. Mansouri and his son, Amir.
Cassie was thinking of the riddles he’d put to Amir, to distract the boy from the pain of his injury, when they arrived at Church Street. Patrick let them off down the street, out of caution, since they couldn’t be sure if Mr. Young had still been watching the Crispin Street building. She and Elyse walked to the corner of the block, then went around and onto the mews lane. When Elyse knocked twice, then three times more, they heard footsteps approach. Tris appeared and ushered them inside before he shut and locked the door again.
“You’re in time for stew,” Isabel said gaily as she stood at the stove, stirring a steaming pot. Her flushed cheeks appeared fuller, and her eyes fairly sparkled when Tris joined her.
He had doffed his hat, allowing his black curls to spring unrestrained. “It’s the rabbit stew my mum used to make,” he said, leaning over the pot. “Though I think this smells even better than I recall.”
“I thought you said I couldn’t even boil water,” Isabel replied.
He shrugged bashfully. “I suppose you’ve learned a thing or two since then.”
The two of them looked at each other for a moment longer than strictly necessary, and Cassie exchanged a glance with Elyse. They both suppressed their grins. It appeared Tris was completely smitten with Isabel, and she with him. And here they’d been, alone together all week, allowed the freedom to converse and get to know each other. Cassie didn’t want to think anything untoward had occurredbetween them. However, she easily recalled the moment in Grant’s office, when the intensity of his closeness nearly stole away her good sense. Imagining a whole week alone with Grant in this house, with no one to interrupt them, made her belly flutter.
“The stew smells delicious,” Elyse confirmed. “How are you feeling?”
Isabel let out a small laugh. “Mostly just tired.”
Tris took the spoon from her hand. “Sit, and I’ll stir.”
She sighed as she sank into a chair, a look of appreciation cast toward Tris’s back.
“Isabel,” Cassie said after a few quiet moments. “I regret having to bring it up, but we spoke with Sister Nan yesterday. From St. Paul’s in Shadwell.”
The young woman frowned and nodded. “She told me of Hope House.”
“Yes, and she thinks she knows how the father of your child came to find you there.” Cassie briefly explained about the woman pretending to be with child and the man Sister Nan saw her meeting with immediately after.
Isabel paled, the healthy flush of her cheeks draining. “It must have been my aunt.”
At the stove, Tris put down the wooden spoon. “How did that horrible woman know to go to Sister Nan?”
Elyse sighed. “The more women we help, the more risk we face. One whisper is barely audible. One hundred whispers together become a roar.”
“Elyse is correct,” Cassie said, knowing that something would have to change if they were to continue offering a safe haven. She then peered at her driver. “Tris, you know about Isabel’s aunt?”
“I’ve told him everything,” she said. Then blushing, “I should have told you too.”
“You only have to share what you want at Hope House,” Elyse assured her.
She looked to Tris, who nodded. Then, Isabel explained. “My aunt was the only family I had left after my parents died, so I had to go live with her, even though my mother had deliberately cut her out of our lives. Lydia…well, she…”
Tris settled his hand on her shoulder, encouragingly.
“She supplies men with companions. High quality ladies,” she continued.
Cassie tried not to let her shock show. How awful it must have been for Isabel, to be made to live with such a woman. No wonder her sister had cut her out.
“One of her clients saw me one day. He was charming, bashful almost. Or so I thought, at first.”
