“Set it up with her butler,” Tony said. “Good work.”
“Also, I’ve been informed that Miss Spadros wishes to call. Will that be a problem?”
For an instant, I felt confused. “Miss Spadros?”
“Miss Katherine, mum.”
I looked to Tony. “I don’t see why not. If her parents agree, that is.”
“Make it for a few days from now,” said Tony, “after this business with Miss Josephine is cleared up.”
“Very good, sir.”
* * *
That evening after tea, Mrs. Judith Hart came to call.
A handsome woman in her early seventies, she had white hair streaked with red and a proud demeanor. When Pearson opened the door to the parlor for me, there she stood in the midst of the room as if she owned it.
But when she saw me, she held out her hand. “My dear girl.”
I went to her, took her hand, and curtsied low, surpr
