father?"
"I don't rightly know, ma'am. Mr. Pymm took me in when I was just a wee lad."
"Pymm, you say?" she managed, glancing over at Rafe.
He nodded to her.
"Harrumph! That old weasel took you in of his own freewill?"
"Aye," Cochrane said. "Raised me like his own son."
Rafe watched as the lady took one last searching gaze of Cochrane's features. From the arch of her brow, he suspected she doubted the boy's assertion of Pymm's paternal charity.
"Cochrane, would I be correct in assuming that Mr. Danvers hasn't fed you yet today?" Lady Finch asked.
He shook his head. "Not since breakfast, ma'am."
"A crime," she said, good-heartedly. "Please, you both must join us for dinner."
Rafe shook his head. "We didn't mean to intrude on your meal and would be just as happy to wait until you are finished."
He ignored the indignant and painful nudge into his back. Turning down a free meal was sacrilege to Cochrane.
"I insist," Lady Finch said. "It is only my secretary, Mrs. Radleigh, and Lord Finch and he is no company whatsoever when his Orchid Society journal arrives."
Lord Finch glanced up and managed a nod to his guests, then went back to his reading.
The lady of the house let out an indulgent sigh. "As you can see, we keep country hours here and do not stand on ceremony." She nodded to the butler. "Addison, could you please set places for Mr. Danvers and our famished new friend, Cochrane."
"You may find your larders emptied," Rafe warned her.
"It will give the kitchen staff something to do," she said, as a grinning Cochrane happily took the chair Lady Finch waved her hand toward.
She smiled after him, and then took her place at the head of the table. She motioned Rafe to take the one beside her. "What brings you here to Finch Manor, Mr. Danvers? Don't tell me it is true that Lady Tottley has hired you to end these
Darby
troubles I've been deluged with."
This took him aback. Lady Tottley had sworn her coconspirators to secrecy.
"Never mind," Lady Finch said. "I can see from your face you've taken a vow of silence on the matter. So tell me everything. Especially since it was my suggestion."
"Yours?" he asked.
"Oh, yes. I've been inundated with letters from every mother with a marriageable daughter pleading with me to help them. I may have hinted to Malvina she hire you to help her find this author and gently suggested that you might be able to persuade them to stop writing."
"Now I know whom to blame," Rafe said.
"You may thank me in the end," she said. "That is if Lady Tottley rewards you as generously as I advised her. She had better have dangled something pretty substantial before you to entice you to take time away from your work on the Codlin case." She patted her lips with her napkin. "Now, humor an old lady, and tell me what she offered and I'll help you in any way I can, for I can't imagine someone as purse tight as Malvina Witherspoon offering anything that would make it worth your time, not with the East India Company having raised their reward to two thousand pounds."
Cochrane waggled his brows at Rafe, an
I-told-you-so
sort of gesture.
Rafe set aside his wonder at Lady Finch's sources and smiled at her. Actually her offer was better than he'd hoped for. He'd thought he'd have to divulge a lot more than just his payment to gain her aid.
"Bettlesfield Park," he told her.
The lady's eyes narrowed. "Did you say
Bettlesfield Park?
"
"Yes. The house and property if I stop the
Darby
author from publishing any more tracts."
Lady Finch's reaction didn't do much to instill confidence. She burst out laughing, and continued so, until tears ran down her wrinkled cheeks. "Oh, my dear boy, tell me this isn't true?"
He shifted in his seat. "Yes. It is." Rafe dug into his jacket and produced a miniature of the house. "She showed me this and said it was a fine estate."
Taking his offering, Lady Finch peered down at the delightful country vista and well-situated manse and began laughing anew. "A fine estate—of
"I don't rightly know, ma'am. Mr. Pymm took me in when I was just a wee lad."
"Pymm, you say?" she managed, glancing over at Rafe.
He nodded to her.
"Harrumph! That old weasel took you in of his own freewill?"
"Aye," Cochrane said. "Raised me like his own son."
Rafe watched as the lady took one last searching gaze of Cochrane's features. From the arch of her brow, he suspected she doubted the boy's assertion of Pymm's paternal charity.
"Cochrane, would I be correct in assuming that Mr. Danvers hasn't fed you yet today?" Lady Finch asked.
He shook his head. "Not since breakfast, ma'am."
"A crime," she said, good-heartedly. "Please, you both must join us for dinner."
Rafe shook his head. "We didn't mean to intrude on your meal and would be just as happy to wait until you are finished."
He ignored the indignant and painful nudge into his back. Turning down a free meal was sacrilege to Cochrane.
"I insist," Lady Finch said. "It is only my secretary, Mrs. Radleigh, and Lord Finch and he is no company whatsoever when his Orchid Society journal arrives."
Lord Finch glanced up and managed a nod to his guests, then went back to his reading.
The lady of the house let out an indulgent sigh. "As you can see, we keep country hours here and do not stand on ceremony." She nodded to the butler. "Addison, could you please set places for Mr. Danvers and our famished new friend, Cochrane."
"You may find your larders emptied," Rafe warned her.
"It will give the kitchen staff something to do," she said, as a grinning Cochrane happily took the chair Lady Finch waved her hand toward.
She smiled after him, and then took her place at the head of the table. She motioned Rafe to take the one beside her. "What brings you here to Finch Manor, Mr. Danvers? Don't tell me it is true that Lady Tottley has hired you to end these
Darby
troubles I've been deluged with."
This took him aback. Lady Tottley had sworn her coconspirators to secrecy.
"Never mind," Lady Finch said. "I can see from your face you've taken a vow of silence on the matter. So tell me everything. Especially since it was my suggestion."
"Yours?" he asked.
"Oh, yes. I've been inundated with letters from every mother with a marriageable daughter pleading with me to help them. I may have hinted to Malvina she hire you to help her find this author and gently suggested that you might be able to persuade them to stop writing."
"Now I know whom to blame," Rafe said.
"You may thank me in the end," she said. "That is if Lady Tottley rewards you as generously as I advised her. She had better have dangled something pretty substantial before you to entice you to take time away from your work on the Codlin case." She patted her lips with her napkin. "Now, humor an old lady, and tell me what she offered and I'll help you in any way I can, for I can't imagine someone as purse tight as Malvina Witherspoon offering anything that would make it worth your time, not with the East India Company having raised their reward to two thousand pounds."
Cochrane waggled his brows at Rafe, an
I-told-you-so
sort of gesture.
Rafe set aside his wonder at Lady Finch's sources and smiled at her. Actually her offer was better than he'd hoped for. He'd thought he'd have to divulge a lot more than just his payment to gain her aid.
"Bettlesfield Park," he told her.
The lady's eyes narrowed. "Did you say
Bettlesfield Park?
"
"Yes. The house and property if I stop the
Darby
author from publishing any more tracts."
Lady Finch's reaction didn't do much to instill confidence. She burst out laughing, and continued so, until tears ran down her wrinkled cheeks. "Oh, my dear boy, tell me this isn't true?"
He shifted in his seat. "Yes. It is." Rafe dug into his jacket and produced a miniature of the house. "She showed me this and said it was a fine estate."
Taking his offering, Lady Finch peered down at the delightful country vista and well-situated manse and began laughing anew. "A fine estate—of
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