a green and gray walking dress with a fetching hat that I itched to examine. She carried a portfolio under one arm, and waved at the smoke-filled room with a gloved hand.
“I thought we agreed no cigars in the sitting room,” she said, closing the door and sending Bobby an admonishing look.
Bobby tamped out her cigar, jumped up, and flung open a window, letting in a cold wave of wind. “Didn’t realize you’d be back so soon. It will clear out in a trice.”
Miss Townsend did not look convinced, but she said nothing more about it as she set down her portfolio and unpinned her hat.
“Cyn and Mrs. H. are staying the night,” Bobby announced. “Mrs. H. has been chucked out, and Cynthia has said to hell with it.”
“No, they are not.” Miss Townsend spoke in a quiet, matter-of-fact way, and we all stared at her.
“I don’t mind,” Bobby said. “We’ll tuck ’em in somewhere.”
Miss Townsend patted her hair into place and carefully set her hat on the table. It was a green plush affair, enhanced with a darker green ribbon, small-brimmed with a modestly high crown, and trimmed only with a few gray feathers. Perfect for this weather, and it matched her walking dress precisely.
“No need.” Miss Townsend turned to us. “Mrs. Bywater admits she was a bit hasty in dismissing Mrs. Holloway. She will offer her apology upon your return.”
While I blinked at her, Cynthia, who’d risen from her chair to put out her cigar, openly gaped, the cigar hanging from stiff fingers. “Auntie said that?”
“She did. And she has no idea you have left home, Cyn, so nothing will be said when you go back. She will simply believe you were out for the afternoon.”
“But I’m not going back.” Cynthia stubbed out the cigar and dropped it into a bowl. A wisp of bluish smoke rose from the end that was not quite extinguished. “To be paraded like a prize racehorse, one a bit long in the tooth, before eligible gents? To pretend to be grateful I have suitors, even those poor specimens?”
Miss Townsend sent Cynthia a patient look. “I have persuaded Mrs. Bywater that she should cease the invitations for a time. Let things settle.”
Cynthia’s eyes widened. “Good Lord. Have you run mad, or has she? Or perhaps it’s me who’s mad.”
“I saw the distress Mrs. Holloway’s departure caused the rest of the staff.” Miss Townsend addressed me directly, her brown eyes full of sympathy. “I related to Mrs. Bywater a few anecdotes of the turmoil I’d witnessed in my own family’s house when a good cook gave notice or retired. How very difficult it was to replace said cook, and the horrors we suffered until a decent one could be found. It gave her pause, I think.” Her small smile told me she’d amused herself with Mrs. Bywater.
“That was kind of you,” I said, my heart warming. The stiff unhappiness I’d been wrapped in since last night relaxed.
“Not at all. We will pretend I was simply annoyed she’d deprived me of a subject to paint. I have not finished with my sketches of you.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t certain which was the truth—was she an artist worried about her work, or a young woman who’d seen my anguish and Tess’s, and decided to help?
“You worked your charm on Auntie on my behalf as well, didn’t you?” Cynthia accused her.
Miss Townsend shrugged. “I might have told her more tales, this time of poorly conceived matches—how a gentleman who professes to be wealthy is revealed to be penniless, after he’s married the niece and comes knocking on the well-meaning relative’s door. How young ladies pushed too hard at respectable gentlemen often flee with unrespectable ones. A great scandal so easily avoided.”
Cynthia began to grin. “You touched her with the right words. Decent of you to stick your neck out.”
“You are Bobby’s greatest friend.” Miss Townsend turned to a decanter of brandy near the window, poured herself a small goblet, and took a ladylike sip. “Naturally, I do not wish to see you unhappy. I can do this small thing and feel benevolent.”
She spoke offhandedly, but to me, it had been no small thing, likewise to Cynthia.
“Thank you,” I said, gushing a little in my relief. Because of her intervention, I could remain at the Mount Street house, sleep in my solitary bed in the attics, cook what I pleased, and not have to leave Tess and Mr. Davis and dear Elsie. Miss Townsend was a kind young