Chase Radnor must have inserted that query in the paper. The scoundrel was inquiring into her past, and her story. She had thought the solicitor satisfied, but remembered Sanders referring to perhaps firming up the particulars. She had not thought he meant the ones about Margaret Finley!
After swallowing her dismay, she noted that two other notices, with two other names, followed the one regarding her.
Her mind immediately lined up who if anyone could respond to the notice. Beth and Jeremy, of course. No one else, since she had never been Minerva Hepplewhite while living in Dorset. She had become Minerva Hepplewhite while they journeyed to London. The only possible connection between the two names might be the hired coachman who took them from her home in Dorset and brought them to the coaching inn where they found transportation. If he had dallied at the inn he might have heard her new name used. It had been five years ago, however, and she doubted anyone would remember something hardly worthy of note to begin with.
The kitchen door opened and Beth came out to her. “Elise Turner is here.”
“Send her out to me.”
“I still think it is I who should go with you.”
Beth renewed a contentious conversation from the night before.
“I need you here in case Mrs. Drable sends anyone else to us. I can hardly ask Elise to do that.” Minerva did not want to hurt or insult Beth with the real reason she preferred Elise. Her young friend would simply be more plausible entering shops and examining lace cuffs.
“Jeremy could do it.”
“If women come looking for a business run by women, it would hardly do to have their first meeting be with a man.”
Beth pursed her lips. “I hope you don’t expect me to only open doors and such with this Office of Inquiries, or sit at that desk listening to possible patrons. I want to have some of the fun too.”
“There will be many times when only you will do, Beth. Times when I can only depend on someone I trust with my life.”
Flattered and a little chagrined, Beth returned to the door and opened it to allow Elise entry to the garden.
Minerva had asked Elise to wear her best dress, so she might see just how good that dress might be. Examining the blue muslin now approaching, she mentally added her own fawn pelisse and dark blue bonnet.
She bade Elise sit with her. “Are you currently engaged in any employment?”
“Mrs. Drable tries, but so far nothing, not even another short-term hire.”
“I have something that should last a few days. I will bring it to Mrs. Drable if, after hearing about it, you are interested. First I need to see if you have the temperament.”
“I’m considered very even tempered, if that is what you mean.”
“Not entirely. In this assignment you will have to act. You must be someone other than you are. I want to see if you can do that. I’ll ask you to show a mood or emotion, and you try to do it.”
Elise nodded, but her puckered brow indicated she thought this very odd.
“Good. First, I want you to show sadness.”
Elise thought about that. Then she closed her eyes. When she opened them she threw back her head and began wailing. Loudly. Her moans and cries rang through the garden.
Minerva veered back, startled. Beth threw open the kitchen door. A head poked out the upper window of the neighboring house. Jeremy came running through the garden. Elise continued wailing so loud the whole street must have heard. Minerva half expected the girl to tear her hair and rend her clothing.
Minerva grasped Elise’s shoulder. “Not like that.”
Elise quieted. “You said sad.”
“Yes, but not grieving sad. Disappointed sad.” She waved for Jeremy to go back to the carriage house. Beth closed the kitchen door. “Let’s try this instead. Pretend you are a lady of high breeding and I am a shop owner. Ask me if I have any better muslin than you have seen.”
“Am I rich?”
“Fairly so.”
“Am I conceited?”
“No. You are nice.”
Elise thought about it. She smiled vaguely. Kindly, but a bit patronizing. It was not the smile one gives an equal. Her eyes sparkled with good humor, but also expectations of deference. “These muslins are quite nice, but do you have anything better? With primrose sprigs, perhaps?”
Minerva was impressed at how well she transformed herself. Elise Turner was a natural actress. She would do very well.