week that he had come to stay at Gerard Lodge.”
“Yes, he was there.” Jennet took hold of her hand. “Mama, I still love him. I wish you to know that before I tell you the rest—and after tonight, I will need you.”
Margaret put her arm around her, and offered Jennet her handkerchief. Only then did she feel the tears slipping down her own cheeks.
“Take your time, my dear,” her mother said gently.
It did take a great deal of time to relate all of the shocking turns the masquerade ball had taken. Jennet did not go into great detail about her intimacy with Greystone, but she did not baulk at confessing she had made love with him twice. Her voice wavered as she spoke of finding Arthur Pickering murdered, and learning that the man she loved had spent the last seven years working for the crown as a spy and an assassin. But her tone hardened as she told her mother that Catherine Tindall had been doing the same for the enemy.
Jennet did not make light of seeing Greystone being tortured, or what she had done to her former friend in order to save him from that. At last she came to the moment before she had bid him farewell, and what they had said to each other.
During that time Mrs. Holloway came in quietly with two cups of chamomile tea and some toast on a tray, and left it on the table between them. By the time Jennet finished, the first rays of dawn began to lighten the room.
“That is everything, Mama.” She was almost afraid to look at Margaret. “William has gone to London with Catherine and the cipher. I expect once he has turned them over to his superiors that he will return to his duties. I am sure that I will never see him again.” She met her mother’s gaze. “I am sorry for many things, but not for becoming his lover. Even if there is a child, I will never regret that.”
The older woman handed her the now-lukewarm tisane. “I will not condemn you for loving him, my darling. Now drink, and have some toast. It will settle your nerves.”
Despite her dismal mood Jennet chuckled. “I am usually the one to say that to you.”
“Mrs. Branwen did the honors tonight after I arrived all hysterics at the parsonage.” Margaret sighed. “She is so kind. She made tea for me, and added a jot of brandy to it. We had ginger nuts and talked of her plans for Christmas. I will have to send a note to her after I write to Lady Greystone.”
“I do not think you can tell the baroness about William’s work,” Jennet said. “His identity must remain secret.”
“I have absolutely nothing to say to Amelia about her son,” her mother assured her. “But if she is to be a grandmother, then I must renew our acquaintance. Perhaps I will invite her to spend Christmas with us. She will be lonely now that her husband is gone, and we will enjoy the company.”
“By then we should know, too.” Jennet put down her tea cup. “What will we do if I am increasing, Mama?”
Margaret’s expression turned astonished. “Why, we will go to Scotland on an extended holiday, and find a nice cottage. Perhaps on one of the islands, for they are said to be lovely. I have always wished to visit the Isle of Skye. You will wear my wedding ring, and choose a suitable surname for a married lady who has just lost her husband in the war—not Gerard, of course. Then we will go on long walks, and eat sensibly, and wait for the child. The baby will be born in the summer, when the weather is so very fine. I daresay we should invite Lady Greystone to join us there, too, once the baby has come.”
“You have it all sorted.” She pressed her lips together for a moment to stop them from trembling. “And if I am not with child?”
“Then we shall still go, and tour the country, and buy many fine plaids to bring back to Reed Park.” Her mother kissed her cheek. “Leave it all in my hands, my darling. Whatever comes, we will be happy.”
Chapter 22
From Renwick Greystone rode directly to London, stopping only once to water and rest the horses. Dawn came before he reached the city, so he covered Catherine Tindall with the coat Jennet had given him. Tucking it around her concealed her form as well