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have gladly allowed me to take Georgina and raise her, as she was expecting a child at the time of Mr. Haywood’s tragic death. But Mr. Haywood had no money of his own, only what he received when he married my sister. I know the amount had dwindled to a very small sum after Giuliana’s death. There was little left for his widow.”
    “And the child’s inheritance?”
    “Giuliana’s father died a year before she did. He named as executor Mr. William Kendall, a barrister in Dover whom he knew through business dealings, to oversee the fortune he left Georgina. Mr. Kendall takes no interest in Georgina except to pay out her quarterly maintenance. I’ve already approached him for assistance, only to be told he has gone abroad and isn’t expected back before the winter.”
    “I begin to see your difficulty.” Wittiers leaned back, a faraway look on his face. “He pays the maintenance to whomever has custody of the girl. The stepmother has little money of her own, I presume? From her family, perhaps?” At Francesca’s shake of her head, he smiled, a vaguely dangerous look that sent her hopes soaring. “Venality,” he said softly. “She has lived with the girl for a year?”
    “Yes. Almost a year and a half now.”
    “Ah. And you have seen the girl in that time?”
    Francesca nodded.
    “Was she mistreated? Unhappy? Ill or otherwise uncared for?” He fired each question without waiting for a response.
    “Initially, she was brokenhearted over her father’s death.” Francesca struggled with her answer. She didn’t want to mislead the solicitor and damage her credibility, but neither did she want him to dismiss her concerns. “She did ask me to take her away from home, which reminded her so strongly of her parents. I offered then to take her and raise her, since I’m related by blood and her stepmother isn’t. I have a good home and could easily afford to raise Georgina, as well as love her like my own child. But Mrs. Haywood said no, saying she had grown attached to Georgina. I agreed, reluctantly, but my sense that things weren’t right grew over the next months. Mrs. Haywood bore twin boys three months after her husband died, and that threw the household into greater turmoil. And now . . . I don’t know, sir. I haven’t been allowed to see Georgina in several months.”
    Wittiers glanced sharply at her. “She has denied you access?”
    “We had a disagreement.” Francesca held her head high, even though she knew this was her great weakness. “A heated one. I implied she wasn’t able to take care of Georgina properly, as the mother of two infants, and asked again to take Georgina home with me. Her brother ordered me out of the house and threatened to call the watch if I did not go.”
    “Her brother?”
    “Mr. Percival Watts moved in with the family after Mr. Haywood’s death. I believe he is the main force behind Ellen’s desire to keep Georgina. He certainly isn’t supporting them with his own funds.” She tried hard to keep her loathing of Percival Watts from her voice.
    Wittiers nodded, clasping his hands together and resting them against his chin. For several minutes he sat deep in thought. “Lady Gordon,” he said suddenly, “I believe you have a fair case. We must gather evidence of the stepmother’s lack of other funds, of the necessity to her household of your niece’s maintenance funds, and of her lack of nurturing attitude toward the girl. You must provide evidence of your role in the child’s life, with anything that will demonstrate you have been present and involved with her parents’ blessing and at their invitation. It will not be easy, but I believe it is possible.”
    “And you’ll take the case?” She could barely breathe. This was such an important step . . .
    Mr. Wittiers rose, extending his hand to her. Francesca placed her hand in his and got to her own feet. “Yes, madam, I am inclined to do just that.”
    Emotion almost choked her. “Thank you,” she said