The Debutante (The Sinclair Society Series, Book Two) Rough Draft

Chapter Twelve

'I understand your concerns for my future, Aunt Beth, but allow me to assure you that....'

Breathing out, I stared at the sentence I'd written, unsure how I would finish it. In five years, this was the most time I'd ever spent away from my beloved aunt and I'd been kept so busy while in Bath that I hadn't had as many opportunities to write to her as I would have liked. Honestly, though, there was little I wished to tell her about what I had been enduring.

She would only worry more than she already had been, which would not be good for her health.

Once I dipped the tip of my quill into the ink, I continued to write. '...you have no need to worry. I have matters well in hand. When I return, we may discuss my future if you are still inclined to do so.'

Aunt Beth would be so inclined, I had no doubt about that. Though she always declared herself fortunate to have me as a companion, in the past five years, she'd repeatedly bemoaned the fact that I was not yet married or had any prospects of marriage. It was the only criticism she had for my uncle Frederick, her only nephew, for not putting me in the way of making a match.

I finished the letter by telling her I'd discovered letters from my brother, had met the girl who very well could have been my sister if Jonathan had lived, and that I was enjoying the scenery around Bath. I made mention of Mr. Douglas' death, so that if she did not know before she would once she received my letter and would not have pinned her hopes from that quarter.

Though I wasn't entirely satisfied with it, I sealed the letter. Two days had passed since I'd delivered Jonathan's letters, and I hadn't heard a word from Mr. Ingram. From Miss Dunbar's foul mood, I guessed that she had received no word from the man either.

Did this mean he was no longer interested with me? Or was he merely biding his time until I was once again useful to him? I hadn't discovered anything that could be construed as proof of Daniel Dunbar's indiscretions, not that I had put an effort into seeking such.

I was pleased to see Miss Anderson in deep conversation with Mr. Melbourne when I followed my employer to the Lower Pump Rooms. Of course, Miss Dunbar was less than pleased when she noticed and had a massive tantrum once she was in the privacy of her room. Several bottles were broken as a result, which I was responsible to clean once she finished and left for the night's entertainments.

My life had returned to a kind of normalcy. I assisted Miss Dunbar and tried to avoid her anger to the best of my ability. Oddly enough, attempts to seek out a different position had yielded no results. It appeared not a single lady desired a new lady's maid, or was it merely that more experienced maids had won out?

As I went about Bath, I found myself on many occasions searching for Mr. Harper's familiar face. Though I tried to convince myself that I simply wanted to confront with with the contents of my brother's note or that if I knew he was back in Bath I would know he was not investing in London where I didn't want him, deep down I knew I missed matching wits with the man.

Pulling my thoughts from the past weeks, I shook my head and pulled out the copy I'd made of the strange series of numbers I had found among Jonathan's letters. Several times I had attempted to study it, searching for some clue to deciphering it, but I'd been left with only a headache for my effort. Still, I was certain it was somehow important, or at least, it had held some significance five years previously.

With a sigh, I sat back in my chair and rubbed the side of my head. I couldn't help but feel as though I were experiencing the calm before a storm. I'd learned that feeling well enough in London to recognize it once again.

As if to confirm it, there was a light knock on my door. "Come in," I called out, moving the paper with the numbers to hide it under my blank sheets of papers. I twisted in my seat to face the door when it opened. "Yes, Sally?"