How to Claim a Governess’s Heart - Bridget Barton Page 0,72

have fooled everyone, but you are sorely mistaken. I know what kind of person you truly are. I know that you were a thief in your younger years and even bear hideous scars as a reminder of your sin. I know that you have not left your wicked ways. You have stolen the contents of a jewellery box from the late Elisabeth Smelting. I have had it confirmed to me that several of her items are missing.

I have no doubt that you considered the theft went unnoticed. I am on to you, however. If you do not remove yourself from Lord John Hughan and his ward Betsy’s life by the end of the month, I will have no choice but to report you to the authorities.

I have no doubt that you will be arrested for your crimes as is right. If you choose to remove yourself and never seek contact with your current acquaintances again, I will be lenient and keep my knowledge to myself.

You can be assured that I have spoken of this matter to no one else as of yet. I will not keep my silence much longer. You have one month.

Bridget swallowed hard and read the letter for the third time. She couldn’t believe what she was reading. Never in all her life did she expect the message sitting on her breakfast table that morning would be a warning to leave or face convictions for her crimes.

Worse, she couldn’t make out the handwriting. Who could this possibly be that threatened to turn her in if she didn’t comply with their demands? Shoving the letter back in her pocket, she exited her room and made her way to Betsy’s next door.

She did her best to stay calm, but her hands shook as she opened the small drawer and removed the handkerchief. Slowly she unravelled the contents of the cloth on the bed. She looked around as she studied each piece to make sure it was all still there.

She knew she was illogical. Clearly, they were threatening to turn her in, they couldn’t do that if they took the evidence from her. With a sigh of relief, she wrapped it up again and placed it back in the drawer.

She turned and sat on the bed and allowed her brain to race. She couldn’t imagine who would even know that she had taken the items, let alone send her a threatening letter.

“Are you all right, Miss Thatcher,” Mrs. Smith’s voice called from the doorway. “You missed breakfast.”

Bridget was startled from her daze and looked down at the watch that was attached to a chain on the front of her dress. She had sat there for almost an hour.

“Lord John wanted to come to look for you, but I assured him it was better if I did. He is entertaining the little miss in the library right now,” Mrs. Smith said, coming to sit next to Bridget.

“Oh, I must start today’s lesson,” Bridget mumbled distractedly.

“Betsy is fine with Lord John for a spell, perhaps you want to tell me what has got you so upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Bridget’s automatic reflex spoke before she could stop it.

She relaxed a little. She knew the housekeeper was there to help her. In fact, she realised that such a person was exactly what she needed.

“Does anyone go through the drawers in the rooms?”

Mrs. Smith gave her a confused look before thinking the matter over for a second.

“Who would go through the drawers? It’s just me, the maid, the butler, and the cook. It’s not like we have a big household here,” she chuckled.

“I know it was silly to think.”

“Is that what is bothering you, that someone has rifled through your things? Perhaps through Betsy’s things?” she asked, looking around the room.

With a heavy sigh Bridget reached into her pocket and removed the letter. Without a word, she passed it over to her companion.

“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Smith said after a moment of reading.

“The marks on my arms. I know you’ve seen them, though we never spoke of it.”

“It wasn’t my place to ask. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Mrs. Smith said flatly.

“I stole some bread as a child. I was hungry and didn’t get much to eat at the school I attended. They whipped my arms, and this is the result. The headmistress thought it was a fitting permanent reminder that I was...well...a thief.”

“A thief? For stealing some bread when you were hungry? And from the person who should