together.”
“I would be deeply indebted to you.” He turned to Mr. Combs. “A great many things have gone missing up at the manor house, odd bits and large pieces. I cannot for the life of me guess where they’ve gone or who might have taken them. You would not begrudge Tillie some time spent helping me discover what’s happened to them, would you? I would not, for all the world, wish to add to your burdens here.”
“We’ll manage,” Mr. Combs said. “Besides, I’m curious to know who—or what—has been making off with your things.”
“‘Or what’?” Wellington repeated.
Tillie nodded. “My father is quite well versed in all the old tales and creatures: pixies, fairies, changelings, redcaps.”
“You suspect my thief is a mythical monster?” The moors were filled with mystery and magic, but Wellington hadn’t thought such had bled onto his own estate. “Is that your theory as well, Tillie?”
“I think we’d best assume anythin’ is possible.”
“Mark me, children, there’s more in this ol’ world than can be seen or understood.” Mr. Combs eyed them in turn. “Unless you proceed with a healthy dose of respect for what you can’t explain, you’ll forever be chasing what you can’t foresee.”
If you have the least concern this will reflect poorly on Thurloe, I’ll turn the Darbys down.” Ana hoped that wouldn’t prove necessary. Though she enjoyed her work at Thurloe, she hadn’t always wished to be a schoolteacher. Working as a private tutor, with more independence and greater control over her time and choices, was more to her liking.
Elizabeth nodded. “Providing musical instruction for a family of the Darbys’ standing will not be looked down on in the least. Further, it will give you more income.”
Ana smiled. “I do not consider my wages here to be miserly, I assure you.”
“If you would prefer, I am certain Mr. Darby would agree to not pay you.” Elizabeth’s humor was often so subtle that those who didn’t know her well missed it entirely.
“I would hate for him or his wife to be accused of being stingy,” Ana said. “I shall accept payment for my efforts—for their sake, you understand.”
“Very good of you.” Elizabeth dipped the nib of her pen into the inkwell. “Arrange with the Darbys to hold your lessons at a time when you aren’t teaching here. That should allow you to accept their offer.”
“How far away do they live from Thurloe?” Ana asked. “I’m not certain I can walk there and back and still have time for the lesson if I have to schedule it between my students here. And if I pay for a hansom cab, I’ll spend all my extra income very quickly.”
Elizabeth looked up from her pile of parchment—she was, no doubt, working on her next silver-fork novel. “I’m sure Mr. Hollis Darby would see to it you are fetched and returned without incurring the slightest expense.”
“I don’t wish to burden him. He’s been very kind.” More than she deserved.
Though she could not be entirely certain, Ana thought she saw Elizabeth actually roll her eyes. “Hollis Darby is the epitome of a gentleman. He asked you to do this for his family; he will not permit the doing of it to bankrupt you. Further, he would not wish you to exhaust your time and energy walking from here to his brother’s home and back. Further still, I believe he would not feel the least put out spending the length of a drive in your company.”
That was reassuring. “Of course, if it proves a burden to him, other arrangements can always be made.”
“Certainly.” Elizabeth offered an encouraging smile.
Ana carefully penned a note for Mr. Darby—the younger Mr. Darby as he had been the one to extend the opportunity—and gave it to Fanny, their chambermaid and sometimes errand girl, to deliver to him. Having finished all she needed to do for the day, Ana pulled on her dark wool coat and comfortably worn boots. She did up her hair in a flattering but modest chignon. She pulled a certain silver bracelet from her violin case and tucked it into a cleverly hidden pocket sewn into the lining of her coat.
Ana spent most of her evenings away from the school, undertaking important errands, but Fridays were set aside for her most important, most personal appointment.
The walk to Pimlico took nearly an hour, yet she made the walk every week, no matter the weather, no matter her exhaustion. She first stopped at various vegetable and fruit carts, then a local butcher who always had a small