bread had been left out for her. There was also a pot of coffee, but it was nearly cold. She drank some because she did not wish to trouble Mrs Jensen for more.
After she had eaten, she gathered the dishes and took them through to the kitchen. Mrs Jensen was there but there was no sign of her husband.
‘You shouldn’t have bothered with those, miss.’
‘I like to help,’ Georgie said. ‘I don’t want to cause more trouble for you than I need, Mrs Jensen.’
‘Well, you’re not a bother, whatever Jensen says,’ Dora told her kindly. ‘I rather like having a young person in the house. It makes a change, and I told Jensen so. He was ready to retire years ago, but I’m younger. I still enjoy my work, and that’s a fact, miss.’
‘I am glad I am not a trouble to you,’ Georgie said. ‘I know Mr Jensen thinks it is all very shocking, and of course he is right—but I have nowhere else to go. If Captain Hernshaw would hire a post-chaise for me, I could leave, but I couldn’t ask him while he was unconscious, could I? As soon as he is well enough, I will ask for a loan of some guineas and then I can leave.’
‘Well, as to that, miss, it is up to the captain who he brings home, and that is what I told Jensen. We’re here to look after the house, not to judge. Besides, there’s nothing going on—couldn’t be with the master so poorly.’
‘He has come to his senses this morning,’ Georgie said. ‘I helped to nurse him when he was in the fever, Mrs Jensen, but he is a strong man and he will soon recover, I think.’
‘I am sure you are right, miss,’ the housekeeper said and nodded her head as if she had the same thought. ‘Mr Henderson told me he had been wounded badly before. It was a good thing you were here to help, that’s all I can say, miss.’
It was on the tip of Georgie’s tongue to ask her to remember that she was supposed to be a boy, but she decided it didn’t matter. As long as she stayed in the house, and out of the way if the captain had visitors, she would be safe enough. She didn’t know that the man she disliked so much was in town to look for her. He could be here for a quite different reason. All she had to do was stay here until she could persuade Captain Hernshaw to help her.
She had decided that she must try to get to her great-aunt’s home and ask her if she would take her in. It need only be for a short time, after all, because as soon as she was in possession of her fortune she could hire a companion and set up her own establishment.
In the meantime, Georgie needed something to amuse herself. She went to the parlour that she had made her own since coming to the house and began to wander about the room. She took down the book of poems and began to read through it, trying to ignore the scribbling in the margin.
After a while, she laid the book aside. Obviously, Captain Hernshaw was mixed up in something nasty. It had not occurred to her previously to wonder why he should have been in those mean streets where he’d found her, but now she frowned over it. Had he gone there to meet someone? She knew from her own experience that the slums were haunted by rogues, thieves and worse—so what had a man like that been doing there? And what was in the package she had snatched from him?
It must have been important for him to chase after her the way he had. Could he possibly be involved with the kind of people who would work against the government and the Regent? She had begun to like him rather a lot and tried to dismiss the thought.
Getting to her feet, she was about to replace the book, but then changed her mind, taking it with her as she went back upstairs. She paused outside Captain Hernshaw’s rooms, then knocked and entered. She saw at once that their patient was awake, sitting up against the pillows. Henderson had clearly been busy, for his master was clean-shaven and looked much better than he had when she’d left earlier.
He gave her an odd look as she entered. ‘What are you doing here? I must thank you for helping Henderson, but you should not continue to visit me here now—unless you have no reputation to lose?’
Georgie blushed. ‘I came to see if I could do anything for you,’ she said. ‘If you would like me to read to you…’ She hesitated and then approached the bed, showing him the book. ‘I found this downstairs.’
‘Did you indeed?’ Richard glared at her. ‘And have you been reading it?’
‘Yes…’ She looked away from his hard gaze and then back. ‘It has writing in the margins and some words are underlined.’
‘And what do you make of that?’
Georgie took a deep breath. ‘I am not sure. It might be some sort of a code…’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Because I tried making sense of it.’ She hesitated, then confessed, ‘There was a paper inside that gave me instructions for breaking the code.’
‘And did you?’
‘Yes…at least I was able to form words and sentences.’
‘And that has made you wonder if I am a spy or an assassin?’
‘No, of course not,’ Georgie denied, a flush in her cheeks. ‘I mean…it does look bad, but I didn’t think you…but you were attacked and I wondered…’
‘I should have left you where I found you,’ Richard said ruefully. ‘I knew you were trouble from the start.’
‘You’re not involved in a plot to kill the Regent, are you?’ Her eyes opened wide.
‘If I were, you would have just signed your own death warrant,’ Richard said, a gleam of annoyance mixed with laughter in his eyes. ‘No, I am not involved in it—but I may be involved in trying to stop someone who is.’
‘Yes…’ Georgie let out a long sigh of relief. ‘I thought it must be that. I am so glad it isn’t you.’
‘Are you?’ He arched his right brow. ‘Are you able to keep a secret, Georgie?’
‘Yes, of course. I shan’t breathe a word.’ She hesitated, feeling uncomfortable at what she must do now. ‘Could you lend me some money—enough to travel post-chaise to Yorkshire?’
‘Lend you—or give you?’
‘Oh, I should pay you back soon,’ Georgie said. ‘If you would do that, I could leave at once and I would not trouble you again.’
Richard’s gaze narrowed. He studied her face for a moment or two. ‘I could lend it to you,’ he said. ‘I may do if you tell me the truth. I know you told me some story of having been forced from your post as a lady’s maid because of your employer’s son, but I think you were lying to me. I don’t think you were ever a maid, were you?’
She hesitated, and then met his eyes. ‘I didn’t know you then,’ she said. It was no use, he wouldn’t believe her if she told him more lies. She was going to have to tell him the truth! ‘You could have been anyone. My real name is Georgina Bridges. My father was Sir John Bridges, my mother the youngest daughter of Lord Nairn. They were both killed in an accident two years ago—and they left a fortune in trust for me. I inherit in a few weeks’ time. My uncle, Sir Henry Mowbray, wants me to marry a man he owes money to—but I hate him, so I ran away. They want my money and they think he will
