The top was a letter of recommendation. It tossed out a heap of lukewarm praise like an employer often gave an adequate servant. The letter said she’d be a good pick for whatever position she applied for as she worked hard and didn’t cause mischief. The letter identified her as Kate Mitchell. She’d need to call herself that after leaving London.

It was her new identity, her future.

She set the letter on the pallet beside her and studied the paper underneath it. It was a doctor’s letter declaring that Gemma Kincaid Milligan had died of injuries from a carriage accident. It even contained a magistrate’s signature, likely forged, which’d give it the authority she needed. The date of the “accident” was two weeks from that very day.

She could be declared dead. Her family, if they cared to look into things, would believe she was. Baz’d be a widow. He could marry again if he wanted. In two more weeks, they’d both be free.

And she would be utterly alone.

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Barnabus had spent more than enough time vacillating on the matter of Gemma’s departure from London and his growing wish for her to remain. It was time he decided how to move forward.

He wished he could turn to his parents for advice in situations like this. But his mother had been dead for years, and neither of them had any idea who his father was. He was rather alone in the world.

But he had Mrs. Simms. She had a good head on her shoulders and, perhaps most significant of all, seemed to genuinely care about him.

“Would you mind terribly if I poured some worries in your ear while we clean up for the day?” he asked her. This was not one of those evenings where he was known to be at home to his patients. She would be leaving soon enough.

“Go on, then.”

“I know you didn’t care overly much for Gemma when she first arrived here.” He set a jar of powders back on the shelf where it belonged.

Mrs. Simms gave him a stern look. “I never disliked her. I simply didn’t know her or what to make of her.”

“And what have you decided on that score?” he asked.

“I’ve seen the way you look when you talk about her. I’ve seen trust on your face when you look at her, which ain’t a small thing. I don’t know quite what it is that exists between the both of you, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing. And, seeing as you’re married already, it’s in both of your best interest to sort all this out.”

“I do trust her.” He, who trusted so few people, trusted Gemma. “I like her. And I like the person I am when I’m with her.”

“And . . .” Mrs. Simms watched him expectantly.