Read Online A Proper Mistress by Shannon Donnelly - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shannon Donnelly
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small window. With a yawn, she sat up, pushed back her hair and peered about the room, wondering why it looked so odd.
Then she remembered.
She was not in her room at Sallie's house. She was not even in London. And she had slept through dinner, her empty, grumbling stomach reminded her. She covered her mouth for a moment, utterly mortified. Oh, she did so hope that Theo had not waited his own meal until it was too cold to eat. Well, nothing she could do about that.
She smothered a giggle. Here she had been worried about his taking advantage of her, and it seemed more apt to say that she had been doing nothing but taking advantage of his good nature. But she remembered as well his treatment of the innkeeper—Theo did not have quite that good a nature. And she would have to remember that.
With a yawn, she stretched. Rising, she went to the window, unlatched it and pushed open the hinged panes. She drew in a deep breath. Her childhood memories of morning were of spice-scented streets, of heat and moisture, and the wafting stench that came from the city of Madras when the wind changed. London, too, had its own unique scent—one of pungent coal fires, of horses in the streets and of the Thames when the tide was low. But here, ah, here, the air smelled fresh with promise. Aromas of bread baking set her stomach rumbling—warm smells of yeast and milk and egg and flour.
Gracious, but she could eat a cow!
With a skip and a smile, she set to taking care of her body's needs. She washed with cold water, her skin tingling at its touch. Why had Theo not sent someone to wake her? Would he be angry with her for sleeping and not keeping him company? Or had he perhaps not even noticed her absence?
Still, he had paid for her to come with him to Somerset—not to entertain him, really. Just to be a low, grasping woman.
She glanced at the green and yellow stripped dress she had worn yesterday. Shameful as it was, she still thought it a most attractive dress. The bright colors reminded her of a bird's exotic plumage. And that was just what she was supposed to be—an exotic bird. A captive one, at that. But she thought of the lady on the stairs. How wonderful it would be to be so...so elegant.
Ah, well. Might as well wish for wings, there, too.
With that, she turned her attention away from useless feelings and into the tasks at hand. She had learned to do that years ago, when that had been the only way to survive a world turned terrifying.
Starting to hum, she dressed in the green and yellow again.
She struggled with the ties at the back, but finally got them done up. She left off the jacket. A shawl from her trunk covered the loose lacing at the back anyway. And she went downstairs only to find herself the first guest to rise.
Her presence earned her suspicious stares from the innkeeper and the plump, black-haired woman who looked to be his wife. But the woman brought her tea, and Molly asked about what might be for breakfast and if she had smelled cinnamon and that got them started on food.
Molly didn't notice the time passing.
By the time Theo came downstairs to the main parlor, Molly was still having her tea. She was seated with a stout, dark-haired woman, the remains of breakfast on the polished pine table. Molly seemed to be writing something in a small book as the stout woman spoke, her Berkshire accent strong.
"Mind, now, use a good strong beer. Some hold as its molasses you want, but I say treacle. Aye, and black pepper and allspice—fine ground, mind—for a stronger taste."
"And it's bay salt you use?"
"Aye. After the saltpeter finely beaten, mind."
"Saltpeter? What in blazes is that for?" Theo said, striding into the room.
CHAPTER FIVE
Both women rose, but Theo kept his eyes on his sweet Sweet. Only a redhead with that transparent skin could redden with such a strong rush of color. It surprised him again that she could blush like a maiden. And left him uneasy. Was she new at her line of work, and still able
Then she remembered.
She was not in her room at Sallie's house. She was not even in London. And she had slept through dinner, her empty, grumbling stomach reminded her. She covered her mouth for a moment, utterly mortified. Oh, she did so hope that Theo had not waited his own meal until it was too cold to eat. Well, nothing she could do about that.
She smothered a giggle. Here she had been worried about his taking advantage of her, and it seemed more apt to say that she had been doing nothing but taking advantage of his good nature. But she remembered as well his treatment of the innkeeper—Theo did not have quite that good a nature. And she would have to remember that.
With a yawn, she stretched. Rising, she went to the window, unlatched it and pushed open the hinged panes. She drew in a deep breath. Her childhood memories of morning were of spice-scented streets, of heat and moisture, and the wafting stench that came from the city of Madras when the wind changed. London, too, had its own unique scent—one of pungent coal fires, of horses in the streets and of the Thames when the tide was low. But here, ah, here, the air smelled fresh with promise. Aromas of bread baking set her stomach rumbling—warm smells of yeast and milk and egg and flour.
Gracious, but she could eat a cow!
With a skip and a smile, she set to taking care of her body's needs. She washed with cold water, her skin tingling at its touch. Why had Theo not sent someone to wake her? Would he be angry with her for sleeping and not keeping him company? Or had he perhaps not even noticed her absence?
Still, he had paid for her to come with him to Somerset—not to entertain him, really. Just to be a low, grasping woman.
She glanced at the green and yellow stripped dress she had worn yesterday. Shameful as it was, she still thought it a most attractive dress. The bright colors reminded her of a bird's exotic plumage. And that was just what she was supposed to be—an exotic bird. A captive one, at that. But she thought of the lady on the stairs. How wonderful it would be to be so...so elegant.
Ah, well. Might as well wish for wings, there, too.
With that, she turned her attention away from useless feelings and into the tasks at hand. She had learned to do that years ago, when that had been the only way to survive a world turned terrifying.
Starting to hum, she dressed in the green and yellow again.
She struggled with the ties at the back, but finally got them done up. She left off the jacket. A shawl from her trunk covered the loose lacing at the back anyway. And she went downstairs only to find herself the first guest to rise.
Her presence earned her suspicious stares from the innkeeper and the plump, black-haired woman who looked to be his wife. But the woman brought her tea, and Molly asked about what might be for breakfast and if she had smelled cinnamon and that got them started on food.
Molly didn't notice the time passing.
By the time Theo came downstairs to the main parlor, Molly was still having her tea. She was seated with a stout, dark-haired woman, the remains of breakfast on the polished pine table. Molly seemed to be writing something in a small book as the stout woman spoke, her Berkshire accent strong.
"Mind, now, use a good strong beer. Some hold as its molasses you want, but I say treacle. Aye, and black pepper and allspice—fine ground, mind—for a stronger taste."
"And it's bay salt you use?"
"Aye. After the saltpeter finely beaten, mind."
"Saltpeter? What in blazes is that for?" Theo said, striding into the room.
CHAPTER FIVE
Both women rose, but Theo kept his eyes on his sweet Sweet. Only a redhead with that transparent skin could redden with such a strong rush of color. It surprised him again that she could blush like a maiden. And left him uneasy. Was she new at her line of work, and still able
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