Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval (8 page)

Gulping, Anna lost no time in doing precisely that. She was awkward, chilled to the bone, and her feet slipped on every branch. Her shins were bashed and bruised, as were her hands, but she ignored the discomfort and concentrated on reaching the ground. Anything was better than being contained in that small room with no light, no heat, and no prospect of being released. If those brutes wanted to kill her, they would have to catch her first.

Her fingers were so cold that by the time she was six feet from the ground, she simply couldn’t hold on anymore. She slithered, almost gracefully, to the ground, rolling into a ball to break her fall. She cried out when she jolted her shoulder and her cheek fell against a drift of icy snow. Winded, she slowly sat up and took stock of her situation. All of her limbs still appeared to be in working order. Her shoulder hurt and pain ricocheted through her when she tried to move it. But apart from that, she did appear to be in one piece.

Anna scrabbled to her feet, aware that every second could be vital. Dampness seeped into her feet, which was when she realised she had gone from bad to worse. Unless she could find shelter quickly, she would freeze to death. It had to be the coldest night in living memory, and she didn’t even have any shoes. She pulled the threadbare blanket over her head and held it close around her body. Then she walked. She needed to head west, away from the river, towards the better part of town. The only difficulty was, she was unsure in which direction west actually was.

Leaving the river behind her, she moved forward with weary determination, trusting her instincts to guide her. Daylight was just beginning to break, but the sky was no longer clear, a fresh bank of thick cloud having rolled in. More snow was on the way. The sun struggled to break through on the horizon. The sun rose in the east, did it not, which implied she was going the right way. Buoyed by this small achievement, she walked in the lea of the tall warehouses, taking advantage of the protection from the biting wind offered by the buildings. Even so, her feet were already frozen, the rest of her barely less so. She felt light-headed, nauseous, and utterly exhausted. She thought of home, of roaring fires, hot toast, Lord Romsey’s compelling eyes, and forced herself to keep moving.

Anna noticed shadows moving in doorways and realised, with a start, they were people, actually trying to sleep in these atrocious conditions. Dear God, and she thought things were bad for her. She wanted to talk to them, ask where she was and if they could help her. But she did not dare. They would never believe she was in a position to help them in return. She had worn a delicate seed pearl necklace to the ball. Astonishingly she still had it on and that alone would be enough to get her killed in this district.

And so she keep moving, eyes downcast, startled by every unfamiliar sound, noise, and smell. Ignoring them as best she could, she hoped against hope she would be mistaken for a person who lived on the streets rather than one worth accosting. A claw-like hand reached out to grab her at one point. She shrieked and pulled herself free. Cackling laughter echoed in her wake as she rushed awkwardly down the street, distancing herself from her accoster.

It felt as though she had been walking forever, although it could not have been above ten minutes. Even so, she was terrified, frozen to the marrow, and completely exhausted. Her shoulder, where she had fallen on it, hurt every time she made an abrupt move, bringing tears to her eyes. Unless she could find shelter within the next few minutes, somewhere to wait out the fresh snow she could smell in the air, she would simply lay down where she fell. The misery of being so cold had drained all the determination out of her. Even images of Lord Romsey’s handsome features, relaxed as he showed her a rare glimpse of the man he could be when he was not behaving like the consummate diplomat he was, failed to revive her. She was in a sorry way indeed.

The air was so cold it hurt her lungs to breathe it. She saw smoke winding up from a nearby chimney and fought the urge to head in that direction and huddle against the stack. Instead, she stared ahead, at first thinking she was hallucinating when she heard gruff voices and then a horse’s whinny. A little energy returned to her body as she wiped fresh flakes of snow from her eyes, peering intently into the distance. Could she have happened upon an inn? She quelled the burst of elation that erupted within her breast, having learned over the past few hours to exercise caution. But the closer she got, the more sure she became. Yes, she could smell horses! The gods were finally smiling upon her. She could demand entry to the inn, and have them send someone to Berkeley Square to summon Zach. She would be safe!

Hope faded when saw two men charge up to the inn from the opposite direction and rouse the night porter. It was her captors. If they had approached from the same street as her, they would have caught her. Encouraged by her narrow escape, Anna concealed herself behind some old ale casks stacked at the side of the inn. She couldn’t see the men’s faces, but she would recognise those voices anywhere. It was definitely them.

“What’s with all the noise?” the night porter demanded gruffly.

“My sister’s gone missing,” she heard one of the men reply. “Maid to a fine lady, so she is, but something ain’t quite right in her head when there’s a full moon. She pinched her mistress’s old ball gown and went out in the snow dressed in it, a blanket over her shoulders. Daft as a doorpost, so she is, but I’m that fond of her. Don’t like to think of her wandering the streets in this weather.”

“Dicked in the nob, you say.” The porter shook his head. “Ain’t no one like that been around here.”

“Well, if you see her.” Anna heard coin changing hands. “Send word to…”

Damnation, they moved away and Anna couldn’t hear anything more. But the exchange made up her mind for her. She’d been missed already and couldn’t risk asking the landlord for help. He would know she was a lady soon enough, just from her voice. That fact alone was enough to work against her in this part of town, given the level of resentment harboured towards her class, and she could finish up in more trouble.

She shivered in her hiding place, waiting for her captors to take themselves off and for things to settle down again. When she considered it was safe, Anna moved forward, paused at the entrance to the mews and actually smiled at the sight that greeted her. A horse had just been brought out from a stable, presumably because its owner wished to make an early start. It was tied to a post, wearing just a halter. The groom had left it there and taken himself off. She expected him to return at any moment with the horse’s saddle, but he did not.

Aware she would never get a better opportunity, Anna didn’t hesitate. She slid as stealthily as a wraith into the yard, looking to left and right as best she could through the rapidly falling snow. She heard voices coming from nearby; the grooms talking to one another, complaining about the cold. Before they remembered they had duties to attend to, Anna ran up to the horse, a solid, hopefully dependable, cob. She patted its neck, unfastened the halter rope and led it away, the sound of its hooves muffled by the straw put down to cover the snow and the fresh snow covering that straw.

“Come along, sweetheart,” she said. “Do this for me and your future is assured. All the oats you can eat for the rest of your days, and lots and lots of lovely fresh grass. The very best of everything. I promise you.”

The horse rubbed its muzzle against her aching shoulder, causing Anna to wince, but went along happily enough, probably glad to be on the move. Thanks to her brother Amos, who had indulged her when she insisted upon copying the boys and riding bareback as a child, not having a saddle wouldn’t be a problem. But getting on the horse’s back however would be. It was too tall for her to vault from the ground, even if she did not have an injured shoulder, but there was an upturned ale cask near the back of the inn. Just what she needed. She stood on it, glad to have had the foresight to tie her gown around her legs, and slid onto the cob’s broad back.

Slapping the halter rope against its neck, she dug her frozen heels into warm flanks and encouraged the mare forward. She went willingly, and Anna actually smiled, triumph sweeping through her as she turned the most beautiful horse in the world in a westerly direction. No voices came after her from the mews, demanding to know what she thought she was doing, so the horse could not have been missed yet. She gave up a prayer of thanks for lazy grooms.

At last, something had worked in her favour, even if she had turned into a horse thief in the process. Zach would fix that situation just as soon as she got home. All she had to do now was
find
home. It was still not full light, so early risers couldn’t see her clearly through the falling snow. Just was well. She must make a very odd sight.

Feelings of euphoria turned to anxiety when Anna realised just what a bad state she was in physically. Every jolt shot through her injured shoulder like a burning poker, making her feel dizzy enough to faint. Several times, she almost slipped down the mare’s flank and fell to the ground. Somehow, she found the strength to pull herself back up again each time. Anna wished she could trot and get away faster, but her shoulder wouldn’t stand the jolting, even if it wasn’t too slippery underfoot to try it. Worse, the horse was leaving tracks in the snow since the roads were still quiet, no other traffic abroad. Anyone following her would have an easy job of it.

“Let’s see if we can confuse them,” Anna said aloud to the cob, feeling a little better when she heard the sound of her own voice, albeit wobbling with cold.

Confusing them ought to be easily achieved, given she still had no clear idea where she was herself. She turned randomly, tugging on the halter rope with her right hand to avoid further pain to her other shoulder and using pressure from her legs to steer the cob. Fortunately, the animal responded, and they continued to head in what Anna hoped was the right direction. She peered through the snow at buildings that still appeared little more than slums, unsurprised when she recognised nothing.

The warmth she had experienced from the horse’s body was a transitory affair, and she was now colder than ever. Cold, lost, and almost at the end of her tether. She was delirious she realised with detachment, probably suffering from something incurable brought on by the cold. She thought of all those sleeping shapes she had seen in doorways and berated herself for being so weak. With good fortune, she would not have to experience anything like this ever again. Those poor souls had nothing better to look forward to. She promised herself that if she did manage to get home, she would do something positive to help the poor.

Thus resolved, she and the horse wandered with no clear purpose for what seemed like an eternity. The streets were gradually filling with people, and she sensed more than one curious glance being sent in her direction. Fortunately, the conditions were so bad no one paused to question her, probably because they couldn’t see her too clearly. She really ought to be grateful for the snow and poor visibility. She considered asking for help, but caution held her back. She had got this far using her own wits, and she would push on for a little longer.

“We need to find a bridge,” she told the cob. “We are on the wrong side of the river. If we could just find our way across.”

Much to Anna’s astonishment, just after that, she came across a bridge with dim carriage lights crossing it to show her the way. Feeling euphoria burst through her frozen body, she turned the cob in that direction. But having gained the opposite bank, she still had no clear idea of where she was and continued to wander in the hope something would become recognisable. The streets were a little wider, the buildings a little less shabby, but she was still a long way from home.

“Just one more corner,” she told the horse through chattering teeth, feeling as though she was burning up, even though she was frozen. She slid sideways again, her head pounding, making her feel dizzy, and almost slithered to the ground. She clung to a handful of mane and pulled herself upright, biting her lip against the searing pain in her shoulder, feeling as though she was slipping in and out of consciousness. “If I don’t recognise anything by then, we shall just have to ask.”

Every time she heard another horse or a carriage, she panicked. She was bound to be recognised. Dear Lord, help me, please! Anna made all sorts of bargains with God, promising to be a better person, to make good on her earlier resolve to take more interest in the poor, and not to make fun of the feuding villagers in Shawford and Compton.

The wind whipped fat snowflakes across her tired eyes, blinding her. Perhaps that was why she did not immediately realise where she was. She looked up when she reached a crossroads, wondering if she could find the strength to go on, and thought she must be hallucinating. How could she have reached Piccadilly without knowing it? Elation streaked through her.

“We are safe now,” she assured the cob, patting her neck and turning her towards Bolton Street. “I am know where I am. Home is just a little further.”

***

“Lady St. John?” Winchester looked at Clarence askance. “Are you sure?”

“After the war, her late husband and I were both involved in the negotiations at the Congress of Vienna, and a lot of other areas that required mediation.”

“Hmm, now this starts to make sense.”

“But Lady St. John would not have been involved in any of those matters,” Vince pointed out. “And her husband is dead.”

Clarence lifted his shoulders. “Political wives are privy to more secret information than you might imagine.” He managed a mirthless smile. “Even diplomats sometimes require a confidante.”

“But the events you refer to were three years ago,” Nate said. “Why would anyone be worried about it now?”

“A very good question,” Clarence replied grimly, scrubbing a hand wearily down his face. “And one which I have yet to find an answer to.”

“Come on, Romsey,” Vince said, impatiently striding about the room. “You must have some idea.”

“I can make an educated guess, but I have no solid facts to back it up.”