Nooks & Crannies by Jessica Lawson

You must have been given some sort of special knowledge about the origin of your son or daughter.”
    The parents exchanged puzzled glances, but no confession was made.
    â€œNo? Well, I’ll give you some time to think about it, and then you can pass along any personal recollections to your children. Please do share everything with your child. For their sake. And for the sake of one hundred thousand pounds. I shall interview each child tomorrow, and we’ll see what comes of it. For now, I’ll just say once again how happy you’ve all made me by coming and being part of this blessed reunion!”
    The Countess ordered another round of celebratory beverages to be poured. Everyone toasted and clinked and soon became rosy-cheeked with the wonder of the situation and the pondering of life possibilities that could be bought with an extra hundred thousand in one’s pocketbook.
    â€œOne chance in six, then,” Mr. Trundle quipped. “I like those odds. Barnaby would thrive here, and we could get by without him quite easily for the summer. Or longer if you’d like.” Mr. Trundle either ignored or didn’t see Barnaby’s hurt expression. “But how will you know the right child for certain?” he asked the Countess, his expression more curious than concerned.
    Yes, how will she know?
    The Countess set her drink down carefully. “Obviously there will be some knowledge that the orphanage gave to the rightful heir’s parents—a description of the mother and father that I might recognize, a story about their past that links the birth parents to Hollingsworth Hall, a token of some sort. And dear Mary will be assisting me to ensure that the correct heir is claimed.”
    Mr. Crum snorted. “I doubt that a strokey maid would be able to identify much at all.”
    Frances wrinkled her nose in Mary’s direction. “And I doubt that she could judge which of us has countess blood.” She straightened her posture and smiled. “Besides, I should think it rather obvious who your heir is, Grandmother .” She glanced at Tabitha, Viola, Barnaby, and Edward. “Or at least to rule out who it isn’t .”
    â€œNot really a matter of  ‘countess’ blood, is it? She wasn’t born with a title,” Edward pointed out.
    Yes, that’s true. I do wonder at her history previous to her arrival at Hollingsworth Hall.
    â€œMary Pettigrew,” the Countess stated firmly, “has seen the child as an infant and knew my Thomas well. And Mary was well acquainted with the woman my son ran away with, which I was not.” She smiled at the maid. “Low class being acquainted with low class, and all that. I shall include her in the interview sessions to gauge her response to faces and such. Rest assured, by the end of the weekend, I will have a grandchild. Isn’t it exciting?”
    â€œTo be perfectly clear, you’ve never seen this child?” Mr. Wellington asked. “And Basil House didn’t keep records of who dropped off which baby?”
    The Countess sifted through the first file and frowned at the paperwork. “Of course they kept records, but being an orphanage, there were times when children were simply left at the doorstep. That was the case for all the children here. So no, there are no formal records, other than drop-off dates.”
    â€œThere’s just one thing, Your Ladyship,” Mrs. Appleby said delicately. “I don’t know that you can just claim one of our children as a grandchild and demand extended visits.”
    â€œYou can claim Barnaby,” Mr. Trundle said eagerly. “You’ll get no resistance from us.”
    Lines of pressure formed around the Countess’s mouth. She inhaled deeply, plucking her bag from the floor. “Everyone please calm down. I am a patroness of England, titled by my good friend, the King . Surely that’s enough of a character