Cynthia leapt to her feet, all smiles. “You’re a brick, Mrs. H. She’ll be thrilled to bits. But quiet.” She raised her hands. “Very quiet and unobtrusive. Besides, having Miss Townsend here might distract Auntie from her zeal in trying to marry me off.”
“Has she started again?” I asked companionably.
Cynthia gave an inelegant snort. “She has never left off. The fits do ebb but never go away entirely. I sometimes think I should elope with a roué and stymie her efforts.” She sighed. “But then, I’d be shackled to a roué, which I can’t imagine would be an improvement on my lot now.”
“A lady must choose her husband carefully,” I agreed.
“I wish a lady didn’t have to bother with a husband at all. Miss Townsend is fiercely unmarried. Perhaps I will emulate her.”
But Miss Townsend had money and a family who did not mind what she did. A very different situation from a penniless young woman whose parents and aunt found her an inconvenience.
I could see that Cynthia understood this as well. She made a wry face, gave me a wave, and headed for the door. “Thanks for the trouble, Mrs. H. Tess.” She left the kitchen with her usual rapid stride, and disappeared toward the back stairs.
“Fancy, I might be in a picture hanging high on someone’s wall.” Tess grinned, her knife flying over the carrots. “Won’t my friends laugh?”
“Miss Townsend might decide not to use our faces at all,” I said. “Or we’ll be so small no one will recognize us.”
Tess was not bothered. She continued with the carrots, humming a merry tune.
I did hope Miss Townsend did not make us recognizable. I could not imagine the embarrassment of appearing in a painting, no matter how innocuous that painting might be. I preferred anonymity and moving through life in a calm and peaceful manner. Much more comfortable all around.
* * *
* * *
Not until we’d caught up from the frenzy of breakfast and preparations for the midday meal did I have the chance to speak to Elsie. I moved to the scullery where Elsie clattered pans and dishes in her sink, singing with her usual off-key vigor.
I waited until she spied me in the doorway, not wishing to speak abruptly and startle her into dropping plates. Elsie blinked at me, shook water off her hands, dried them on a towel, and turned to await my orders.
“Mr. McAdam tells me you grew up in the Foundling Hospital,” I began, keeping my voice gentle but matter-of-fact.
Elsie gazed at me without worry. “I did.” Her forehead creased. “Why’d ya ask?”
I wasn’t certain how to broach the subject, not wanting to concern her until I knew whether there was something to be concerned about. “Last night I spoke to a vicar who is on the board of governors there.”
Her eyes widened. “A vicar? Has something happened? Is Mabel sick?”
“No, no,” I said quickly. “The vicar is a friend of Mr. McAdam’s.” I decided to keep the fact that Daniel and Mr. Fielding were foster brothers to myself. “He asked me to help him with a matter there, and Mr. McAdam indicated you came from the Hospital. He never mentioned anyone named Mabel.”
“Oh.” Elsie relaxed. “That’s all right then. Mabel is a great friend of mine—she’s a bit younger than me, so she’s still taking lessons. I took care of her when she first came. The older girls are assigned younger ones to look after, ya see. I thought perhaps one day, she could be a maid here.”
She gazed at me in hope, but I had to shake my head. “That is not for me to say, but I can put in a word for her if I think she will suit. Mrs. Bywater, as you know, is particular.”
Elsie stopped herself from sharing a disgruntled look with me, but only just.
“What sort of problem? If you don’t mind me asking, Mrs. H.”
Elsie was young, perhaps seventeen at most, with a pointed face, straight brown hair she wore in a bun, and light brown eyes. She’d already been working here when I’d arrived at the house, but I did not know much about her life before this. She was a cheerful sort, if occasionally excitable, with a terrified scream that could cut with knifelike force. Fortunately, she did not shriek often and spent most of her time humming or singing as she scrubbed.
When Elsie didn’t work, she slept. Scullery maids were far down in the servant hierarchy, nearly at the bottom. In many houses she’d double as a kitchen maid, cook’s assistant, and even the bootboy. She did not have much time to herself.
“I do not wish to upset you,” I said. “But a few children might have gone missing. Might,” I added emphatically. “They also might be just fine, but taken to another place. A nurse has gone too, perhaps with them.”
Elsie watched me in trepidation. “What children?”
Mr. Fielding had told me their names before I’d departed the sacristy for the rainy night. “Three—two boys and a girl. Sam Howes, Joshua Tarr, and Margaret Penny.”
Elsie shook her head. “I don’t know them. Might have come after me. But maybe Mabel does. I could ask her.”
“That would be kind.” I had no business demanding Elsie do things for me on her half day out, the only rest allotted her, but this problem bothered me. “I don’t want Mabel to get into any trouble, mind. Or you.”
Elsie’s dimples returned. “Never. Who is the nurse what’s gone?”
“Her name is Miss Nell Betts. So the parson told me.”
Elsie’s faint smile vanished once again. “I do know her. She’s been at the Hospital awhile, though she’s youngish. Very kind too. I hope nothing is wrong.”
“As do I. What do you know about the nurse? Is she likely to have up and gone without telling anyone?”
“Don’t think so.” Elsie sent me a dubious look. “She’s sensible—them as is flighty never last long. Weren’t none of us scared of her. Most are fond of Nurse Betts.”
“For that lady’s sake then, I will try to find her. Could be she had someone in her family to take care of and slipped off to do it.”
More doubt. “She has a mum and dad, but never visits them much. They don’t get on. Mostly she stayed in on her days off and mended. Liked to sing while she did it.”
Nurse Betts sounded a nice, comfortable person, unlikely to snatch a few innocent children and take them away with her. Besides, she’d been the one who’d brought the missing children to Mr. Fielding’s attention.
There were any number of reasons a nurse at a children’s home would vanish, I had to admit. Some of those reasons were unfortunately troubling.