![]() She blew dust from it, then wiped it with a cloth. Griselda handed one to her, then reached to a high shelf for a tray. Penelope opened the tin, then looked around for a plate. Setting the kettle on the stove, Griselda looked up and smiled. The men nodded absentmindedly she made her way down the stairs and into the little kitchen. “I’m going to help Griselda with the tea.” Penelope listened to them, and the sounds of Griselda farewelling her apprentices, then locking the front door and pulling down the blinds. Barnaby and Stokes fell to discussing one of the political intrigues currently affecting the police. Parliament rises at the end of this week.” “What’s worse,” Barnaby said, “is that we’re running out of time. “I used to think it was mine, but over this…” Entirely unnecessarily she informed them, “Patience isn’t my strong suit.” Penelope dropped onto the sofa, a disgruntled expression on her face. “Nary a whisper of any sort from anywhere.” He looked at Barnaby as he followed Penelope to the sofa. He nodded his agreement, released her hands, and rose as Penelope’s dark head appeared on the stairs. After all this is over and we have time to think.” She held his gaze for one last moment, then nodded. Penelope’s clear tones drifted up from below, assuring Imogen and Jane that “we know the way.” They both opened their lips to speak-just as the bell below tinkled. She continued to return his steady regard. Relief poured through him he was sure it showed in his answering smile. “I suppose, in the interests of preserving my rug, so you don’t wear a track in it, I could do that.” Hoped, prayed, that she would read the reason behind his request in his eyes.Īfter a moment she smiled softly, then cast a glance toward the head of the stairs. He closed his lips on the urge to give more directions, even to order. “Please, when you do go that way, can you tell me first? Or if that’s not possible, at least leave a note-of where you’re going and when you’ll be back?” But…” He paused, lips compressing, but pride wouldn’t keep him warm at nights. “I realize you feel safe in the East End, that it’s your home, and you need to go back to see your father. With his thumbs, he stroked her fingers, but kept his eyes on hers. ![]() After a moment of broodingly studying her, he shifted forward reaching out, he took her hands, one in each of his. “We’ll have to be patient, and see if the promise of a reward shakes loose any useful information.” “Our notices are out there.” Stokes understood her frustration. Surely someone must have seen them, heard them-noticed them.” “There must be some way we can get word of them. “Unfortunately, that’s no guarantee he’s the one who has the boys.” 229320 Cataloging source DLC Laurens, Stephanie Dewey number 823/.92 Index no index present LC call number PR9619.3.“So Grimsby remains on our list-the last of the names your father gave us.” Stokes grimaced. Desperate, Penelope turns to the one man she knows who might help her-Barnaby Adair.-From publisher description Member of But now her charges are mysteriously disappearing. Yet Penelope is anything but a typical ton miss -forceful, willful and blunt to a fault, she has for years devoted her considerable energy and intelligence to directing an institution caring for the forgotten orphans of London's streets. Language eng Summary Penelope Ashford, Portia Cynster's younger sister, has grown up with every advantage -wealth, position, and beauty. true Cynster family (Fictitious characters).true England - Social life and customs - 19th century.true London, England - History - 19th century.Label Where the heart leads Title Where the heart leads Statement of responsibility Stephanie Laurens Creator
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