“I see,” said Miss Holmes.
“Do you—do you think she needs a brooch found or something of the sort?” asked Mrs. Watson.
They’d had such cases before, with clients who had lost items in their own homes. She rather desperately wanted this to be the case, that the maharani had misplaced her small kingdom’s crown jewels and must discover their whereabouts.
“That is possible.”
Mrs. Watson’s heart sank. “But you don’t think so?”
“No. I think her problem is much thornier than that.”
Mrs. Watson gripped the arms of her chair. “What should we do?”
Miss Holmes’s gaze was level. “Once I learned that she called here and is known to you, I was duty bound to inform you of her visit to Sherlock Holmes. But we are not obliged to do anything else. In fact, she specifically did not want help from Sherlock Holmes. Nor from you yourself—or she would have said something about it.”
“But her problem—” Mrs. Watson heard herself cry.
“We cannot solve all problems under the sun,” said Miss Holmes. “Only those that are entrusted to us.”
Mrs. Watson nodded and forced herself to smile again. “You are right. Of course you are right.”
Miss Holmes looked at her a moment, then returned the nod and left.
* * *
Seated at the desk in the study of his town house, Lord Ingram frowned. Messages had come from Mrs. Watson’s house. The thank-you letter penned by Miss Olivia Holmes was wholehearted and effusive. The accompanying note from her younger sister, on the other hand, said next to nothing. Lord Ingram stared at it. How should he interpret this apparent coolness on Holmes’s part?
She’d long been open in her desire to take him as her lover. Now that it had happened, were two forays to his bed enough? Were his days of being propositioned by Holmes over?
And what would he do if that was the case?
A knock came on the door, startling him. He put away Holmes’s note. “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal Miss Yarmouth, the children’s governess.
He rose. “Is something the matter, Miss Yarmouth?”
It was not scandalously late, but late enough that the other servants had retired after dinner. And Miss Yarmouth was not in the habit of seeking him out at this time of the night.
She closed the door, something else she was not in the habit of doing. She had her reputation to consider, and on previous occasions when they’d spoken in this room, she’d always made sure to leave the door ajar, so that no one could possibly misconstrue the platonic and professional nature of their exchanges.
“My lord, may I have a word?”
He indicated the farthest chair from his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
She did, her hands laced together in her lap. He had only one desk lamp on in the study and could not be entirely sure but—did she have on a new dress? Something that did not immediately declare her to be a governess?
He waited.
She shifted. “My lord, I’m not sure how to begin.”
“Does it concern the children?”
“No. I mean, yes, it does, perhaps somewhat. But I—I wouldn’t say it’s about the children, precisely.”
“Then what is it about?”
Whatever it was, he already knew he wasn’t going to like it.
Miss Yarmouth looked down at the carpet. “I—I have a cousin I grew up with. Eight years ago, she emigrated to Australia. She wanted me to go with her then but I was too afraid to leave the country. She’s done very well there for herself and is very enviably settled with a well-to-do husband and a large house.”
He didn’t say anything.
She hesitated. “And Mrs. Culver—my cousin, that is—has once again invited me to join her in Sydney. She says that there are many eligible men in the area and it’s far easier for a woman like me to achieve matrimony there than in England.”
She was neither old—about Holmes’s age—nor unsightly, though hers was a nondescript prettiness that did not promise to last long. Had she come from a wealthier family, she might have achieved marriage by now. But she did not have that safety net of pound sterling and instead had to support herself by working. And life as a governess was not exactly rife with opportunities for meeting eligible men.
Lady Ingram had wanted to educate her children early, at three, rather than five. As a result, neither Lucinda nor Carlisle could remember life without Miss Yarmouth. She had been a constant in their lives, one that was needed more than ever in the absence of their mother.
He had already increased her wages after the events of Stern Hollow, but he did not hesitate to say, “Is there a figure that would tempt you to stay, Miss Yarmouth? Please name it.”
She bit her lower lip, but when she answered, her voice was resolute. “You have always been a generous employer, my lord. But at this point in my life, having a home and a family of my own is more important than greater wages.”
“I understand,” he said mechanically.
“I—I don’t wish to go either. I adore Miss Lucinda and Master Carlisle—they are such lovely children. But I’m not getting any younger.”
“I understand,” he said again, and wondered whether there was anything he could do to cushion his children from this blow.
“Unless, that is, my lord, you wish to—”
She looked up now, her eyes imploring. He stared back at her, half in incomprehension, half in . . . all too much comprehension.
Dear God, Holmes would probably have seen where this was going while Miss Yarmouth was still on the other side of the door.
Miss Yarmouth blushed furiously, but now that she’d started, her courage seemed to rise. “I know you are still married, sir. But your petition for divorce is certain to be granted. And if you’ll please listen to me . . .”
“I am listening.”
“I’ve heard what people say about you and Miss Charlotte Holmes. That you love and admire her, but can’t marry her because she is no longer respectable and you must think of the children.”
That had never been the reason he wouldn’t marry Holmes, but he wasn’t about to explain himself to Miss Yarmouth, who in any case went on without waiting for corrections. “But I am respectable. And the children already know me. And since you must find another mother for them, you know they will accept me. You know that their welfare is of tremendous importance to me.
“And I hope that during my years of service, you have gained some insight into my character, my lord. I am loyal, you know that. I will never betray you. And I understand that our arrangement will be one of convenience—that your heart belongs elsewhere. I will never be jealous or unpleasant. I will make this a harmonious, happy home.”