Lynne Connolly by Maiden Lane

smile and nod when people comment on the remarkable resemblance, and say nothing that could lead them to assume he belonged to my family. I don’t know yet if he’s serious in his claim, or if he’ll be happy if I pay him off. However I will not give him a pension as I have his sister Susan. He doesn’t need it, and he doesn’t deserve it.”
    “Susan!” I had forgotten. “John will be sure to contact her.”
    “I have thought of it, and Carier is informing her of the situation as we speak. She will make her own decision.”
    “As she always has.” Susan had decided to enter the demimonde, but her protector for the last year was a man from the country, and he was keeping her exclusive. I liked him, but thought him too old for her. However Susan’s admittedly normally chilly heart held warmth lacking in her brother, and she seemed fond of her protector. I wouldn’t like her brother to disturb that. But he would approach her, and he knew where she was.
    “I will support the decision she chooses to make.” I knew he would. So would I. Now Richard appeared all business, his emotion entirely covered by the efficient mask he used with friends, not as complete as the one he used in public, but still there. “I hope I can trust you, Timothy, to act for me should it become necessary.”
    “Of course.” No hesitation. Loyalty, or Timothy Dixon’s sense of justice? I didn’t know, but it meant a lot to me that honourable people supported my husband. He needed us. We needed him.
    “Thank you.” Richard got to his feet. “I should do the rounds of the coffeehouses, collect the gossip and maybe spread a little of my own. Nothing definite, just an attitude. I don’t care about this young man, he means nothing to me, but I wish him well. If there are rumours that he visited my mother this morning, I will express surprise. Southwood House is large enough for us not to have met and I could have paid the visit on an entirely different matter. Maybe he wishes my father to sponsor him in some enterprise, I shall say. Is he a musician? Then he would be better approaching me, since my wife is known to be interested in it and is an accomplished player herself.” He raised a brow and stood over me, holding out his hand.
    But I shook my head. “I have another matter to discuss with Alicia. You can stay if you wish,” I added, knowing he’d stay if he knew I wanted him gone. “But it’s about the new parlour maid.”
    “You shouldn’t be concerning yourself with such matters,” he said, frowning.
    I snapped my fingers. “Nonsense, of course I should. The girl is with child. I noticed yesterday when she tried to slide past me in the hall. And she is a little ahead of me, I believe. She could make a good wet-nurse for the baby, but we need to make her respectable or your mother will make trouble.”
    He grinned broadly. “What an excellent idea. If the girl is willing, it will give her security for her baby and a way of ensuring she has a healthy pregnancy.” In better spirits now, he bent and kissed my hand. “Make her respectable by all means, my love.” He bowed to Alicia and waited for Timothy, who decided to accompany him.
    Once they left, Alicia poured us another cup of extremely strong tea, and we sat back more comfortably. Alicia grinned. “A pregnant maid? Do you need to find her a husband?”
    I shrugged. “It was the footman from number ten. I can handle the matter. If he refuses the girl, which he might well do because he’d lose his position, then I’ll invent her a husband, a newly dead one, perhaps in the army. I plan to retire to the country once I’ve given birth and rested for a few days, so she can wait for me there where nobody knows her. No, Alicia, it’s quite another matter I want to discuss with you.”
    She leaned forward, cradling her tea dish between her hands. “Richard.”
    “Indeed.” My tension ratcheted even thinking about the possibilities. “You know what he could