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cover his lapse. No doubt Kennan lingered in his mind, worrying him; that was all.
    Soon the two sat beside the driver as he drove them to Stoddard’s lodgings. “You’re in luck,” Stoddard said. “My landlady, Mrs. Mather, had a vacancy come up last week and I secured the room for you.”
    “I thought I’d stay in a hotel.” Then the fact that his father had carried out his financial threat settled over Gerard again, souring his stomach. But before he’d blindly follow the steps his father laid out for him, he would go to hell and whatever might come after that. He swallowed the acid that came up his throat. Maybe a boardinghouse would conserve his dwindling funds.
    Stoddard shook his head. “My landlady takes care of everything, and her cook is an artist. It’s better than a hotel—not as many people coming and going. And she only rents to gentlemen.” Stoddard paused to smirk. “Says spinsters are too particular and talk too much.”
    Gerard snickered at this yet was reassured by the sentiment. This sounded like the Stoddard he knew. “Appears like a good place for us.” He wanted to ask about Tippy again, but Stoddard had let the first question go unanswered. He must be cautious or hazard pushing Stoddard even closer to the chit.
    Before long the drayman was helping unload the baggage. Gerard paid the man, and soon he and Stoddard were in the boardinghouse’s small foyer with the baggage around them.
    A slim, middle-aged woman in a neat gray dress with white collar and cuffs bustled from the rear to meet them. “This is thy friend, Stoddard Henry?”
    Gerard hadn’t expected to meet another Quakeress here. Surely she’d have no connection to the first. A bit belatedly he managed a creditable bow. “Ma’am.”
    “Though I am Quaker and don’t use titles, thee may call me that and ‘Mrs. Mather.’ This is business, after all.” The woman eyed him up and down. “Stoddard has given thee a very good reference. The rules of the house are few but firm. I give every gentleman a key. Regardless of the hour, come in quietly and sober. No female guests are allowed over my threshold. Can thee abide by that?” She stared hard at him.
    “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned in spite of himself.
    She sized him up another moment. “I’ll show thee the room.”
    Gerard didn’t know how, but he’d evidently passed inspection.
    Stoddard carried the valises while Gerard dragged his trunk up the stairs.
    “Here it is,” the Quakeress announced.
    Gerard peered over Stoddard’s shoulder into a large, bright room in shades of gray and white with a bow window. It was simply furnished, evidently with a male tenant in mind: a fine shaving stand with a mirror rested near the window. “A good room.”
    “It is.” The landlady turned to him, stated the rent, and informed him that he would have to pay the maid separately and that he could leave his laundry downstairs once a week for the laundress, also at extra cost. “I provide three meals a day—at eight in the morning, noon, and finally supper at seven each evening. If thee isn’t coming for a meal, I expect to know as early as possible so I can tell the cook.”
    The lady definitely knew what she required, and he liked that. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    “See that thee does.” Mrs. Mather bustled out.
    “Glad you’ve come.” Stoddard squeezed Gerard’s shoulder.
    Moved, Gerard couldn’t find his voice, so he merely nodded.
    “Even if it’s just to rescue me from myself.” Stoddard grinned.
    His jaw clenched, Gerard didn’t respond. He needed time and more information in order to figure out how to pry his cousin from this trap.
    Stoddard’s face suddenly lost its cheer. “Is Kennan coming?” All their combined worries about the direction their old school friend had taken came out in his low tone.
    Gerard felt the same pall overcome him. “I haven’t seen him since Seneca Falls.” Except for my lapse into imagination earlier. “No word