Page 18 of The Counterfeit Scoundrel
Daisy waited until they were outside and several steps away from the house before asking, “Are you happy here?”
“Oh, yes, Lady Charlotte, she’s a right good ’un. Likes me darning, even praised me for it. I wanted to be a seamstress once. But I’m not fast, and you got to be fast. But I like making stitches.”
“Perhaps there are some other things involving sewing that you can do around here. I’ll speak with my aunt.”
“Thank you, miss.”
Daisy felt a great deal of responsibility toward the girl—and a bit of guilt because she’d manipulated her away from Bishop’s household in order to move herself in. “You’ll let me know if you need anything.”
“I do miss Sarah.”
“I’ll arrange for you to visit with her in a couple of weeks,” Daisy assured her, a promise she’d keep as soon as she left the Blackwood household.
The girl smiled as though she’d just been handed the moon.
“I was wondering... do you know if Bishop has a membership at the Fair and Spare?” Daisy hadn’t wanted to question his staff because she didn’t need them knowing exactly how curious she was about Bishop. They might get the wrong impression, but more, it might get back to him, and he could begin tosuspect she wasn’t there to keep his residence dusted and polished.
Annie looked around as though searching for sprites among the blossoms. Then she gave a quick nod and whispered, “Jacob told me.”
“How would he know?”
“He’s a footman, travels on the carriage with the coachman whenever Bishop goes out. He’s seen the people going in. He says they dress fancy, and you can’t tell by looking that they’re off to do some sinning.”
Not everyone sinned. Daisy hadn’t, but then she’d only been there once. However, she was contemplating going this evening. She needed a distraction from her thoughts of Bishop, and since his calendar hadn’t a notation ofF&Sfor tonight then it was doubtful he’d be there. Nevertheless, she’d wanted confirmation of his membership as a preparation just in case she saw him. If so, she would scamper out.
“How is Mr. Bishop?” Annie asked. “I miss him, too. He’s always so nice.”
Daisy tilted her head slightly. “Is he?”
Annie nodded enthusiastically. “When I went to get a position in his household, Mr. Perkins told me I wouldn’t do as I didn’t seem fast enough. Or clever enough. He sent me on me way, out the back, to the mews, but I seen the flowers and went to look at ’em all. So many, so many colors. I kinda got lost in studying ’em. Mr. Bishop come over and said, ‘Who are you then?’ So I told him.
“Then me mam comes rushing over. She was in the carriage in the mews, but I guess she got tired of waiting for me. Told me not to bother the fancy gent andasked if I got the position. Told her I didn’t think so because he said I wouldn’t do. She got sad ’cuz it was the fourth time she’d taken me someplace to get a position. ‘Who’s going to take care of you when I’m not about?’ she asked me.
“But before I could answer, Mr. Bishop told her not to worry. That Mr. Perkins had misspoken, and she was to bring me and me things in the morning so I could begin me duties. I became Sarah’s assistant and in charge of the flowers in the residence, deciding what we’d have each day. ’Cept on them days when he has the ladies calling. They gets to pick the flowers then. Mr. Bishop likes his flowers. Are you seeing to ’em for him now?”
Daisy was touched by the story. How many people, particularly men, gave much thought to their staff? “I suppose I am, yes.”
“He likes violets best of all.”
“Does he?”
Annie nodded.
“I shall keep that in mind. We’d best get back so I can join my aunt for luncheon.”
Her aunt was waiting for her in the parlor, already sipping her sherry. “Darling girl, do join me. I worry so. I do wish you’d chosen another occupation. This skulking about that you’re doing is so undignified.”
Aunt Charlotte wasn’t the only one to find inquiry agents unworthy of respect. Few advertised because their livelihood involved uncovering and stealing people’s secrets and, therefore, was considered an affront to esteemed professions. Yet those who gained a reputation for meeting with success were in demand and somehow were found, mostly through whispers carried far and wide, whenever a need for their services arose. Daisy was convinced it was only the beginning of what would become a profitable endeavor. While sometimes what she did left her feeling in need of a bath, she couldn’t help but believe a desperate need for sleuths existed and that a time would come when the profession would gain some respect. It was simply new, and people didn’t quite understand all that it entailed. Knowing her family disapproved was discouraging, but she refused to allow their sentiments to undermine her efforts.
After settling into the chair across from her aunt, she declined the offered glass of sherry. “How are you, Auntie?”
“I’ll feel much better when you are no longer living in the residence of a debaucher. Is Mr. Blackwood as much of a scoundrel as they indicate in the papers? I rather envision him running about half-clad.”
He was half-clad but only in the privacy of his bedchamber. However, if she revealed that information to her aunt, she’d no doubt have the vapors, wondering how Daisy knew what transpired in his bedchamber. “To be honest, he’s a bit confounding. On the one hand, he seems considerate and kind, but on the other, definitely rakish.”
“A bit like your father then. While Lionel was my youngest brother, he was very much a lost soul. Although he loved your mother, I think he married her as an act of rebellion, never quite believing Father would truly cut him off.”
Her mother, Genevieve, had served as Aunt Charlotte’s lady’s maid. “Mr. Blackwood has no need to worry about being cut off.”
