Page 55 of Kiss Me Lady One More Time
“No. They are smart. Well trained, if I do say so myself,” Mrs. Caradec assured her. “They keep watch on each other, as well, and they have multiple avenues and ways to seek help, should they need it.”
The other woman drew in a deep breath. “I don’t like this, though. You two are more vulnerable than my urchins. I’ll keep them watching from a distance, but I’m also going to add someone else.” She looked at Hope. “A man trained by Isaac. Utterly trustworthy. He won’t be spotted, and he’ll be nearby. In case you need assistance. We can’t be too careful.” She looked pointedly at Hope. “Especially now.”
Hope straightened and slid a hand over her belly. “How . . . how did you know?”
Mrs. Caradec gave her a kindly look. “My lady, you should know by now that Hestia knows everything.”
Relaxing a little, the countess nodded. “Still, I’m astonished.”
“And I’m worried, I don’t mind admitting. We must be careful, but we need to find out who is watching you. Both parties. And to that end . . .” She pulled out a slip of paper. “The blonde girl. She left you this morning while you were at the dressmakers. She went straight to this house. To the back entrance. It’s not that far from here.” She handed over the paper. “Do you know the address?”
Hope looked it over. She shook her head and passed it to Penelope.
She took it, glanced at the address—and froze.
“Penelope? Do you know it?”
“Is this correct?” she asked Mrs. Caradec. “You’re sure?”
“Utterly.”
“Send word to Tensford,” she said to Hope. “Please. I want to go, right away.”
Alarm on her face, Hope stood. “What is it? I’ll—Oh!” The color drained from her face and she swayed on her feet.
Penelope leaped forward, even as Mrs. Caradec did. They each took an arm and settled her back onto her chair.
“I’m fine! I’m fine!” Her color was returning. “Just a moment of dizziness.”
“You only stood too quickly,” Mrs. Caradec said kindly. “The same thing happened to Brynne with her first. Every time she stood up without thinking and going slowly, she swooned a little. It went away in a matter of a few weeks.” She made a face. “Just be glad you are not casting up your accounts, as Cassie did.”
An odd look passed over the countess’s face and she groaned.
“Just put your head down and breathe,” Penelope told her. “It might pass.”
“What does it mean if I’ve both symptoms?” Hope asked, her voice muffled as she put her head toward her knees.
“It likely means you have a fine, strong son or daughter, making their presence known,” Mrs. Caradec told her reassuringly. “But we can send for the doctor, if you’d like the reassurance.”
“No!” Hope straightened a little. “I don’t want to upset Tensford.”
“Too late. What’s going on?” The earl strode into the parlor.
Penelope stood back to make room for him. She was concerned about Hope, of course, but she was also on fire to get out of the house and follow up on Mrs. Caradec’s findings.
Sterne followed his friend into the room and she quickly crossed to him. She would forget her pique with him, if only he would come to her aid. “I need your help,” she said, low. “We need to go, now.”
“Where?”
She handed him the address Mrs. Caradec had brought. It filled her with guilt and grim determination. “To my father’s townhouse.”
Chapter 13
The countess was as white as a sheet, Tensford had tangled himself into a mass of nerves and Penelope was desperate to leave and investigate,now.
Sterne watched her erratic movements and felt her impatience growing. She was clearly torn between her concern for her friend and her need to . . . do something.
All he wanted to do was soothe and indulge her. He wanted to slide his hands over her, listen to her troubles, slay whatever dragon had sent her into this agitated state.
