The next morning, I finished the breakfast for the upstairs and the hash of leftover potatoes, sausage, eggs, and cheese for the downstairs, changed into my second-best frock, and went out.

Miss Townsend arrived to sketch as I departed. I gave her what I hoped was a cordial “good morning” as she came into the kitchen, and I left via the other door.

An evening of contemplation and a restless night had made me feel no better. Daniel was an enigma—he always had been.

What he got up to out of my sight was no business of mine, I reminded myself. I knew he helped others and the police, because I’d witnessed him do so. He’d helped me. He was not a ne’er-do-well with a lady tucked into every port. At least, I did not think so.

As I found an omnibus and climbed aboard, keeping my skirts well away from my fellow passengers, I knew in my heart I was merely jealous, envious of Miss Townsend because she’d been involved in his police work far from my sight. I wanted to trust Daniel and let him do whatever it was he did, for whomever he did it. But I was at the end of my tether wondering who he truly worked for and why, and why he took on different personas without turning a hair.

Learning he had a brother, even a foster brother, had jolted me from any complacency. I could understand Daniel not telling me what he did for the police, if it was a deep, dark secret he needed to keep so others wouldn’t be hurt. But a brother was not part of the secret, was he?

Daniel knew all about me and my past, about my daughter—had known before I’d told him. And yet, I was not to know about his family. Did he have more brothers? Sisters as well? Children of his own besides James? Would he tell me or keep this to himself?

By the time I reached my destination of St. Paul’s Churchyard and walked along Cheapside to the lane that held my daughter, I was out of breath and highly irritated.

Grace running down the stairs to meet me at the door eased me a bit. I held her, wishing, wishing I never had to let her go.

“What shall we do today, Mum?” she asked in eagerness.

I had promised to look into the affair of the Foundling Hospital and should make a start, but I hesitated. My time with Grace was too precious to squander.

“I have a mind for a nice walk,” I suggested as I tried to decide.

My friend Joanna Millburn, who looked after Grace for me, said, “It’s blustery for a walk. Why not a game by the fire?”