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The second day became intolerable. I was hungry, for the bread, scraps, and water were less than I was used to. But then, Caroline and Amelia were so “kind” as to visit outside my door. Visit. It was nothing but triumphant giggles and sly remarks, as they were on their way to their routs and parties. That was not so bad, but then Caroline said: “Ah, it is too bad you cannot go to Lady Coventry’s ball. But you need not worry that you cannot go to it; I shall make sure she knows why you cannot.” She laughed, and Amelia giggled. I said nothing. I hoped they thought I was asleep. But sleep was far from my mind, and I knew Caroline would be sure to keep her promise and let all and sundry know I was kept in my room for punishment.

I might as well be confined for the rest of my life, I thought, furious. I cringed to think of the speculative and pitying looks from people I was sure to meet after my confinement. I felt my face growing hot at the thought. I could not bear it. I thought of the days to come; beyond the gossip Caroline would spread, there would be more mishaps engineered by Her Mischiefness, I was sure of it. I would be confined again, perhaps sent back to Mama in disgrace. I wished dreadfully I was not in London. I wished I was back somewhere where I could be amongst my books and papers, my paint pots and brushes, where I didn’t have to think of dresses that would inevitably be ruined. If I confined myself to my room, it would be because of my love of books and not by the will of a tyrant grandmother.

Books and paints, Plato and history. I wished I were in school again.
Then
I would not have to think of ruined dresses and balls and Caroline Emmett-Johns. ... I sat up abruptly in my bed. Why not? I had done what Miss Angstead had wanted; Mama was now married to Sir Jeremy Swift. If I could not be a student again, perhaps Miss Angstead would let me be a schoolmistress! Surely she would take me in! Why, she
owed
it to me, after all! Did I not manage to tell Sir Jeremy the way he was to marry Mama? It was a thing the headmistress or any of her relatives were unable to do. Surely, at the very least, Miss Angstead should be able to find me a respectable position as a governess.

I sat still for a moment, thinking out a plan. I did not see how I could escape without being seen. And then there was the problem of proper chaperonage when I traveled. Even I—with my admittedly limited understanding of all that could go wrong in society’s eyes—knew that. I could not take Annie, for she was also Amelia’s maid, and I did not want her to be turned out because she agreed to help me.

Samantha! Of course
she
could not go with me, but perhaps she could let me borrow a servant. I did not want to impose on her good nature, but I felt sure that as my friend, Samantha would understand. Our minds worked very similarly, I thought, and she would comprehend my predicament in an instant. I sat down at a table and wrote out a brief letter, explaining my situation. I waited for Annie to bring up my supper.

“Annie, wait!” I said, holding on to her arm. She looked at me fearfully.

“Miss Georgia, I can’t! I’m expected belowstairs.” She stared nervously at her toes.

“Only a minute. I need to send a note to my friend Miss Ashcombe—I, I borrowed something, so I need to let her know why I cannot return it. Could you take it to her for me—with—without anyone knowing about it? I know I can trust you, Annie, please do it for me!”

Annie bit her lip, then looked up at me. “I shouldn’t, miss, but, well, you did stand up for me and took the blame for those dresses.” She put her hand on mine and patted it. “I’ll do it.”

I squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Annie.” She almost protested when I slipped a coin in her hand, but I closed her fingers around it and pushed her out the door.

The next day was worse than tedious. It was nerve-racking. I paced my room anxiously, waiting for a word from Samantha. Finally, Annie came up with my monotonous repast. She looked about the room furtively, then handed me a letter.

“Here, Miss Georgia. Their footman, Robin, gave it to me.” She flushed a bright pink when she mentioned the footman’s name. I refrained from smiling but gave her another shilling.

“Thank you, Annie. I shall not forget this.” But then I couldn’t resist teasing a little. “You might think about buying a ribbon with it, Annie,” I said. “A pink one. You would look becoming in pink.” Annie blushed more furiously than ever but grinned at me as she curtsied and left.

I broke the letter’s seal with eager hands.

“My Dear Georgia,” I read. “How perfectly Odious of your Grandmother to keep you Confined, a Prisoner in your Own Room—how Terribly Unjust of her! Anyone with a Modicum of Intelligence could see that
you
could not have Ruined your Dresses. Of course, I shall help you! Be ready at Ten O’clock Tonight, and I will send someone to aid your escape from your Dastardly Imprisonment. As you suggested, I shall Instruct that you be awaited under your Window. Your Most Concerned Friend, Samantha.”

I could hardly eat my luncheon in my relief and excitement; not that there was much to eat— bread and water, with just a bit of beef hidden, as before. I busied myself, putting together what I would need for my escape.

I searched through my wardrobe for some clothes not too badly stained by the ink. I pulled two bandboxes from under my bed and folded all the necessary things in them: toothbrush, cup, hairbrush ... Jewelry! I must take that, too, just in case my pin money was not enough for the mail coach. I packed things quickly, not neatly; I did not care. Once Samantha’s and my scheme was laid out, I could not be held back.

I made sure my bandboxes were well hidden under my bed when supper—bread and water again—arrived. I ate some of the bread, then frugally put the rest in a handkerchief in my reticule. My stomach growled and twinged in protest. I could not be sure, however, that my small fund of pin money and jewelry would last until I reached Bath. I continued packing. I debated between a hooded cloak and a pelisse with a bonnet. I decided on a cloak with a hood large enough to cover a small bonnet. One could never be sure what one would need when on a journey.

I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. It wanted but five minutes to ten o’clock. I pulled the bedclothes from my bed, tying the corners tightly together. I had read of this method of escape in one of Mama’s novels. I swallowed as I opened my window and looked down. While I could tolerate heights, I did not care for them. But my makeshift rope was long enough.

I made sure once again the knots in the bed-sheets were tied together firmly, then lowered the rope out my window. A soft rustle told me the rope had reached the tall bushes below. I smiled to myself in grim satisfaction. Only about a two-foot drop from there; I need not fear any injury.

I hesitated only a second about the disposition of my bandboxes before I tied them about my waist. I giggled as I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My cloak stretched out around them, and I looked for all the world as though I were one of those old-fashioned ladies who wore panniers on either side of their hips under their dresses. I firmly secured the rope to the bedpost and tied on my bonnet.

Carefully, carefully, I lowered myself down the rope. It was dark, but the moon was full, so I could see that the street was deserted; no one would detect what I was about.

Suddenly I heard footsteps around the corner to my left. Perhaps it was the servant Samantha was to send me—or perhaps it was a stranger. Alarmed, I hesitated. I could not go back up, I could only go down as quickly as I could. I looked hurriedly down to see if the owner of the footsteps had come around the corner yet. That was a mistake. Hunger and vertigo hit me with almost a physical slap and the world split in two and I fell....

“Ooof! What the devil?”

This was not the cobblestone beneath my window; cobblestone did not feel like Bath superfine and did not say “Ooof!” much less swear. I lay where I was for a few seconds, then, satisfied I was not more than bruised, stood up. Or tried to. A large hand grasped my arm and pulled me down again. “Good God! Who do you think you are, running down a man like that in the middle of the night, eh? Like a cannon shot! Bowled me over! Now I’ll have to go back home and change again!”

“Lucas!” I exclaimed.

“Georgia?” Two hands grasped my arms and helped me to my feet. “Good God, what are you doing out here?”

“Oh, Lucas!” I said, tears coming involuntarily to my eyes. “I’m so sorry!”

“Now, now, my dear girl, don’t cry! You never cry! Remember you said so once!” He fumbled for a handkerchief but did not seem to find one. He looked at me helplessly, then wiped my tears with his hand. “Now what is this about?”

“I am sorry I am crying. I have been perfectly miserable, and I suppose I am a little shaken from falling from the window....”

“From the window!” His eyes traveled up the side of the house to the open casement. “Good God, girl! You might have killed yourself!” A look of horror dawned on his face. “Was this why Samantha—? Was it something I did? The constraint between us—I didn’t think—I knew I went over the line in that carriage, I—I thought you cared for me a little—” He raised a hand as if to touch my face but stopped just short of it. “The cleverest girl I’ve ever met—but should have remembered how much an innocent you still are. I am sorry—”

I stared at him, openmouthed and confused. “Lucas, no, really, I did not mind, I mean, it is not because of the, well, ah, our kiss!”

He frowned. “Then why the devil did you jump out of your window? Was it—was it because of Sir Harlow?” Lucas’s eyes grew stormy. “By God, if he has done anything to harm you, he’ll have to answer to me!”

I blushed. “Oh, no! He did take me out to the balcony and kiss me, but
that
is not why I was at the window! I made a rope and
climbed
out of the window, only I became dizzy and lost hold toward the end. I am running away to Miss Angstead’s Seminary.”

I think I have never faced true anger before this. My mother’s scolds and the viscountess’s cross-examination were nothing compared to Lucas’s fury. I found myself seized by my shoulders and soundly shaken.

“God help me, if I didn’t know what an innocent you are, I would swear you were trying to ruin yourself, or worse, on purpose!” Lucas ground out, his jaw clenched. “How could you let him kiss you? Do you not know— Good God! Think, Georgia! Think! Sir Harlow is a
rake.
And there are many more like him, altogether eager to take advantage of someone like you. What’s more, how are you going to get to Miss Angstead’s? Where are you going to get the money to procure tickets? And who is going to protect you when you go? You have lived in London before this—do you still not know how dangerous it can be?”

I looked away from him so I could contain myself, for though I was a little frightened, I was angry, too. How dare he shake me! “You needn’t speak to me as if I were a stupid schoolgirl! I am going by mail coach, I shall pay with the jewels I have, and Samantha is sending a servant to accompany me. And I
have
learned about men like Sir Harlow. I don’t need anyone to protect me!” I said defiantly.

Lucas put his hand to his head, clutching a stray lock of hair in frustration. “No?” he retorted, and his hand sliced the air, gesturing at the street. “Look about you. I don’t see a servant. It is dark, only the lamp above us for light. The walk’s long to the nearest posting house. What if it wasn’t me you met here, eh? Don’t you know what could happen to you? Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”

“Beautiful?” I looked up at him. Anger and fear crossed his features still. “Oh, no, I am not beautiful at all, Lucas. You have said it before, I know, but I cannot conceive how you can think so! You must know that Mama is the one who—”

“The devil fly away with your mother! I wish I had never— Oh, damn it all!” he cried despairingly, and pulled me hard into his arms.

I could not explain anything to him at all. It is impossible to speak when a man’s lips are crushed to yours, kissing you breathless. After a while, I did not want to. I grew dizzy again, but I was not at all sure if it was because of hunger or because he held me so tightly. My knees shivered, and somehow it seemed a good notion to hold on to him. My arms crept slowly around his neck, pulling him closer to me. He felt warm in this cool night, and his greatcoat made a shelter around us.

“Damned bonnet!” I heard him growl, and I felt it tumble from my head. I did not care. Warm hands under my cloak caressed my back and shoulders, and the electric sensation banished all thought of bonnets. It followed the course of his hands down to my waist and—

Something bumped insistently on both sides of my hips. “What the devil—!” exclaimed Lucas. I was suddenly released.

I giggled. “My bandboxes. I tied them to my waist so I could use both hands for climbing.”

“Climbing?” Lucas gazed at me, confused.

“I told you, I’m running away.”

“Running away!” He gazed at the rope and back at me again. He looked bemused. “Thank God I ‘twas
the one you ran into!” he said fervently, kissing me again.

“Oh, yes!” I said, catching my breath as his lips crept across my cheek and down past my neck. My cloak had loosened a little. I heard the bandboxes dropping to the ground. I also thought I heard some footsteps in the distance. “I—I don’t think we should be standing here like this, Lucas. Samantha’s servant should be here any moment.”

“Eh?” He looked around, bewildered. “Ah, yes.” He straightened his greatcoat. The footsteps came closer: it was the watch, and we waited in what I hoped was an innocuous manner until he passed us.

“I suppose I should escort you home,” said Lucas.

I looked pleadingly at him. “I cannot. I will not stay with Lady Stoneham anymore. I am running away to Miss Angstead’s.”

“I thought you were finished there.”

I sighed. “I am, but I thought I might get a position as a schoolmistress.”

“Why?” he said bluntly.

I hesitated. “I know you—you are fond of Caroline Emmett-Johns, Lucas—”

“Fond! Not likely!”

“Do—do you love her, then?”

“Good God, no!”

A warm feeling came over me, but I said, “But she’s so pretty! How can you not?”

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