The King of Threadneedle Street (38 page)

BOOK: The King of Threadneedle Street

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No! There he was, just leaving through the little gate.

Annabella sagged against the windowsill. Apparently her hiding place hadn’t been revealed after all.

I should have stood up to Mother and simply refused to go to London. Mother could have gone on to Bath and I would have been up at the main house as usual…

The thought of servants and the main house sent a twinge of loneliness to prickle at her heart. How she missed having her dear friend, Juliet, to talk to… to confide in.

“And some friend you are! You sent Juliet to London in your place because you’re a coward. And friend that Juliet is, she went, knowing the trouble she’d be in if she was found out.”

Guilt stabbed at Annabella like a sharp knife. What was Juliet doing now? Probably worrying herself mad and wondering why Annabella hadn’t contacted her as promised.

Annabella dropped the curtain and paced the room. The bodice of the dull grey maid’s uniform pulled tightly across her chest, pinching her bosom, and she tugged on it. But the sturdy cotton material had no give and the strangling sensation remained. Why hadn’t she thought to place some of her own day dresses into Juliet’s tattered bag?

Because I was only supposed to hide at Rose Cottage for a few days.

She let out a sigh and threw herself down on the red velvet couch. The bolster was lumpy against her back. Annabella dug it out. The gray silk was as ancient and threadbare as all the rest of the furniture. It was ugly and she hated it. She hated the cottage, the hunger, her mother’s directive that her stepbrother would find her a suitable husband. But mostly she hated that her plans never seemed to go the way she wanted. Before the first tear could fall, she covered her face, screaming as loud as she could into the bolster, kicking her feet against the sofa’s other end, taking her frustration out on the faded upholstery. She deserved to die alone in Rose Cottage for letting her pride get in the way and chasing her into hiding.

A thud and a gasp from behind her brought Annabella’s head bouncing up, and she leapt to her feet. A young housemaid stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen. At her feet, a wooden bucket lay tipped on its side, water running like a river over the dusty oak floor.

“Lady Annabella,” the girl screeched, eyes wide. “I thought you was in London.”

“Get out!” Heat rushed to her face. Had the maid seen her outburst? Annabella narrowed her eyes and stalked toward the startled girl. “I said, get
out!
I am
not
here.”

The maid’s jaw dropped. “B-but, m-m’lady. Ye’re standing right in front o’ me.”

Was the girl dense? Exasperated, Annabella blew out a breath. “Well then, you don’t see me!”

The girl opened her mouth and looked like she would argue but then clamped her lips shut and cast her eyes downward. “Yes, m’lady.”

Marvelous, she could add terrorizing a maid to her list of sins. Annabella sighed. She was never lost for words. Why couldn’t she figure out what to say? “I, er, decided not to go to Town after all,” she said, affecting a breezy tone. “But I, er… my mother. Yes, I did not wish to distress the duchess with my change of plans as she’s been… fatigued of late.”

A sly gleam entered the maid’s eyes. “Yes, m’lady.” Her gaze roamed over Annabella, no doubt taking in the filthy state of the dull gray dress.

Annabella drew herself up straight. “My luggage was mistakenly sent on to London with Juliet, whilst hers remained with me.”

One side of the maid’s mouth tilted upward briefly before she schooled all expression from her features. “Yes, m’lady.”

Should I return to the main house now that I’ve been discovered?

No. If she went back to the main house, she’d look the spoiled chit who’d run off and hidden away in the dirty guesthouse. Far better to let the servants think she’d
chosen
to stay at the cottage.

“It’s good that you’ve come by,” she said, keeping her voice even. “I had no idea the place was in such disrepair. Does no one see to its cleaning and upkeep?”

“Mr. Dawes gave orders over a year ago to leave off cleaning here. But I’m here to see to opening the cottage now, m’lady,” explained the maid. “Sorry to be so long. I had no idea t’was for you.”

“Very well. It needs a good scrubbing.” Annabella wiped at the soiled sleeve of her dress. “I shall need fresh clothing from my rooms. Two of the dresses from my wardrobe.” She frowned. “No, three dresses. My yellow day dress and the blue one. And my gray silk walking dress. And a Spencer. Oh, I’ve a new champagne and black gown from…”

The maid was staring at her wide-eyed. “Would you like me to pack as though you were going away, m’lady?”

Relieved, Annabella sighed with the imaginings of her entire closet at her disposal. “Yes, please.” The maid wasn’t going to make trouble. “I — what is your name?”

“My name’s Abby, m’lady.” Her head dipped in a slight curtsy as her gaze slid around the stark room and then moved to the empty bucket. “Shall I see to tidying up first?”

“I shall wait here whilst you see to my fresh clothing, and you may clean up after that.”

Abby’s head bobbed. “Yes, Lady Annabella.” She snatched up the empty bucket and scampered off. The spilled water had long since been consumed by the dust coating the floor.

A smile spread across Annabella’s lips as she stepped to the cottage door and gazed after the maid running up the path. She’d been saved from a horrible demise after all. The scent of flowers beckoned, and she couldn’t resist stepping into the warm sunshine for the first time in days.

Humming softly, Annabella plucked a rose from the bush next to the steps and sniffed. The sweet perfume filled her nostrils until she found herself giddy. No more horrid lemons! Warm food — entire meals. Oh devil’s bells! She should have requested a meal! And perhaps a way to get a message to Juliet. When would Abby return?

Nearby, a bird sang. Annabella tried to imitate its call, but she’d never learned to whistle — no matter how many times Juliet had tried to teach her. So she started humming again. The bird trilled a reply, and Annabella opened her mouth and sang an upward scale of “ah-ah-ah’s.”

She closed her eyes and twirled, imagining the handsomest prince as her dancing partner. Juliet might think it a child’s tale to dream of true love, but Annabella didn’t think that at—

Strong arms caught her in mid-spin and a hand settled at her waist. Annabella’s eyes flew open and she screamed. But the dashing stranger grinned and whirled her around then released her.