Lily kissed Maggie’s fair head, and said a quick, silent prayer of gratitude that the child could not keep secrets. “And ye say we’re leaving on Saturday?”

“Aye. Saturday morning.”

Two days from now. Lily’s mind raced. “Well then. We’d best be packing our things. What, within this room, would ye take with ye to London?”

“This.” Maggie closed Lily’s fingers around the book they had been reading, then slipped from the chair and retrieved her own copy book, pen, and ink. “These.” Last of all, she unearthed from a cabinet the old, rolled certificate Lily had made for her when she was smaller, to make her a princess. “And this.”

Lily took them all into her hands. “I’ll make certain to bring them. Now away off to the kitchen, my darling, and see that our broth doesn’t burn, if ye please.”

Maggie, obedient, skipped to the door, and turned. “Are ye sure that I’ve not spoilt the surprise?”

With a smile that held steady somehow, Lily said, “Ye could never spoil anything.”

Alone, she tried to breathe, to think. She unrolled the certificate, remembering the time when they had made it all together as a family—Henry’s wax seal, Simon’s perfectly aged edges, Walter’s signature with Barbara’s bearing witness to the status of young Princess Maggie of her far-off and fictitious country. Lily thought of how, on that day, Matthew promised Maggie, “In life, nothing is impossible.”

She drew strength from that promise now and, crossing to the work table, began to search among the inks, for she had much to do.

* * *

Henry, frowning, asked her for the third time, “Are ye certain?”

“Think,” she told him. “He just happens to send Simon off four days ago, upon a simple errand that he could have carried out himself, and where is Simon now? Not here,” she answered her own question, “where he could be some protection for us. I don’t doubt he’s met with some misfortune. Even if he hasn’t, by the time he does return it will be too late. Maggie’s ‘gentleman’ will have her down to London and we’ll never see her afterwards, unless we act to save her. No, it must be now. Tonight,” she said, “while Archie’s in the Paunchmarket.”

He had been staying there these past few nights, while Simon was away, to keep watch on the women who did live and work within that house, but Lily knew he might return at any moment to look in and see how they were getting on. He might even decide to remove Maggie to a different place, in preparation for her travels.

“He never intended I should go with her,” she said to Henry. “He has only told her that to keep her calm and unsuspecting, but I can assure you that his plan has been to hand her to this ‘gentleman’ on Saturday, and take whatever payment he has coming in exchange.”

“Not even Archie, surely—”

“Maggie said that Archie told the ‘gentleman’ he’d make her special documents to say that she was ten.”