“Biggs and Bentley go for a ramble. We don’t ask them what they get up to, but the law hasn’t snabbled ’em, so maybe they’re looking for work. Dantry and Davis report to Major MacKay for stable help and other odd jobs. Most of the rest spend the day at dice, cards, or whorin’, unless we’ve a churchyard to spruce up. I do fancy me this tea. His lordship don’t skimp on the larders.”

“You have eight men sitting idle underfoot all day?”

“The whole dozen if it’s a rainy afternoon. Winter is hard on ’em, and none too easy on me nerves either. They’re a good lot, though. Better than most. Watch out for that Amos Tucker. He’s a pincher.”

“A… pincher?”

“Yer bum. He’s quick too. Wants a good clout to the ear, and from me, he usually gets it.” Mrs. Winklebleck tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear, the gesture oddly girlish.

As housekeepers went, Mrs. Winklebleck was young and robust in every dimension, rather than fat. She wore a spotless mobcap and clean apron, but something about her seemed familiar.

“You are Big Nan,” Matilda said. “You and your… friends once shared a fellowship meal at St. Mildred’s.” At least two years ago, maybe more.

She set down her tea cup, her gaze wary. “And what if we did?”

“The congregation could talk of little else for weeks. Major MacKay’s ladies, they called you. Miss Dorcas—Mrs. MacKay, rather—holds you all in sincere affection, as does the major.” A lot of streetwalkers, side by side with the likes of Mrs. Oldbach. The occasion had been memorable, to say the least.

“Life on the stroll is hard,” Mrs. Winklebleck said. “‘On the stroll’ sounds so merry and fine, My Lady La-Di-Da. Half the time, you starve. The other half… It’s hard. I tried my hand at drawing caricatures in the pubs—I got a good eye for a likeness—but that don’t hardly pay. Major MacKay said his lordship were looking for a housekeeper, and I kept house for me brother until he died, so here I am. Jessup and Jensen came with me.”

Two sturdy, smiling maids.

Former streetwalkers. Harry would laugh himself to tears at the thought, and from his celestial perch, Papa was doubtless unsurprised to know the company his Jezebel of a daughter was keeping.

“People can change, missus,” Mrs. Winklebleck said. “Major MacKay forgot how to smile, but since he married Miss Dorcas, he’s all sunshine. The boy John has the major’s sunny nature. You were married, now you are a widow. I was a light-skirts, now I’m a housekeeper. Only the Quality get so bound up in everybody knowin’ their place. For the Quality, their place is usually proper wonderful.”