It was time to draw on those funds. She had no other choice. Living with Mrs. Foxglove as her step-mother would be intolerable. The money could support her until her sister Victoria returned from her extended holiday on the continent. Victoria's new husband was a wealthy earl, and Ellie had no doubt that they would be able to help her find a position in society—perhaps as a governess, or a companion.

Ellie rode a public coach to Faversham, made her way to the offices of Tibbett & Hurley, and waited her turn to see Mr. Tibbett. After ten minutes, his secretary ushered her in.

Mr. Tibbett, a portly man with a large mustache, rose when she entered. “Good day, Miss Lyndon,” he said. “Have you come with more instructions from your father? I must say, it is a pleasure to do business with a man who pays such close attention to his investments.”

Ellie smiled tightly, hating that her father received all of the credit for her business acumen but knowing that there was no other way. “Not precisely, Mr. Tibbett. I have come to withdraw some of my funds. One-half, to be precise.” Ellie wasn't certain how much it would cost to lease a small house in a respectable section of London, but she had close to 300 pounds stashed away, and she thought that 150 would do nicely.

“Certainly,” Mr. Tibbett agreed. “I will simply need your father to come here in person to release the funds.”

Ellie gasped. “I beg your pardon.”

“At Tibbett & Hurley, we pride ourselves on our scrupulous business practices. I could not possibly release the funds into anyone's hands but your father's.”

“But I have been conducting business with you for years,” Ellie protested. “My name is on the account as a codepositor!”

“A codepositor. Your father is the primary holder.”

Ellie swallowed convulsively. “My father is a recluse. You know that. He never leaves the house. How can I get him to come here?”

Mr. Tibbett shrugged his shoulders. “I will be happy to come out to visit him.”

“No, that will not be possible,” Ellie said, aware that her voice was growing shrill. “He gets most nervous around strangers. Most nervous. His heart, you know. I really couldn't risk it.”

“Then I will need written instructions with his signature attached.”

Ellie sighed in relief. She could forge her father's signature in her sleep.

“And I will need these instructions witnessed by another upstanding citizen.” Mr. Tibbett's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You do not qualify as a witness.”

“Very well, I will find—”

“I am acquainted with the magistrate in Bellfield. You may obtain his signature as a witness.”

Ellie's heart sank. She also knew the magistrate, and she knew that there would be no way to get his signature on that vital piece of paper unless he actually witnessed her father write out the instructions. “Very well, Mr. Tibbett,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “I will—I will see what I can do.”