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Authors: Anne Herries
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last night. He is in danger, there’s nodenying it—and so are you—but I saw good fortune in the leaves.’
‘I pray you are right, Martha.’ Jane closed her eyes and lay back on the pillow. ‘I ought to get up. I am sure this is your bed and I have robbed you of a night’s rest—but I feel a little dizzy.’
‘There’s no hurry, lass. I slept on the sofa last night and George had a blanket on the floor. I’ll bring you something to eat and you’ll feel better soon. Until then, you should stay in bed.’
‘Thank you.’ Jane sighed. She was too weary to argue and she felt tearful. George had gone without saying goodbye to her. Would he return?
It shouldn’t matter. Now that he had left her she ought to be making plans to go home, but for the moment she did not feel well enough to make the attempt. Besides, if she did that, she might never see George again—and all contact with him would be broken. At least this way he might still help them rescue Mariah. Andrew would be worried, but perhaps George would keep his word and send her brother a message to let him know she was safe.
If she was safe! If George was right, Blakemight still be looking for them. He might even turn up at the cottage.
‘Please come back, George,’ Jane whispered, and a tear slid down her cheek. ‘Please do not leave me alone.’
She wasn’t alone. She was with a very kind woman who had given up her bed for her.
Jane wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. She was not a foolish weak woman to go into a decline because a man had left her. Once before she had thought herself falling in love with a man she hardly knew, but she had heard him dismiss her as that ‘plain-faced harpy’. He’d declared to a friend that he wouldn’t take her if she had twenty thousand a year.
That man’s cruel words, even though spoken in jest, had hurt her deeply. She’d decided then that she would not lay herself open to similar hurt again and had declined all attempts to draw her into another London Season. She would be very foolish to let her heart be touched by a man who had helped abduct her, even if he been kind to her. Jane wasn’t even sure that he would keep his word to return for her.
She would stay here for two days, but, ifGeorge didn’t return by then, she would find her way home somehow.
* * *
Jane was able to get up later that day. She went down to the kitchen to sit with Martha, refusing to use the best parlour even though she was invited.
‘I do not intend to sit around wasting my time until George returns,’ she said. ‘Today I shall just sit quietly, but tomorrow I could help you—if you would find me some work.’
‘In the morning, I must collect herbs and roots that I use for my cures,’ Martha said. ‘When I return I shall need to wash and chop them before I can make my recipes. You could help me with that if you choose.’
Jane thanked her. She was determined to earn her keep somehow, and after they had eaten their evening meal, helped to clear away and wash the dishes. Martha insisted that she take the bed again when it grew dark and since she would not be persuaded to let Jane take the sofa, she was obliged to give way.
She was wearing clothes Martha had provided. The much-washed linen gown fitted her well enough, though it was far from fashionableand had probably been Martha’s when she was young. Jane smiled to herself as she donned a rather too-large nightgown and slipped between the sheets. She was tired and went to sleep almost at once, though when she woke there were tears on her cheeks.
* * *
In the morning she went down to find the kitchen empty. Martha had lit the fire and there was a blackened copper kettle steaming away on the hob and some warm bread rolls wrapped in a cloth. Jane fetched butter from the pantry and spread one of the rolls, smearing it thinly with honey. It was clear to her that Martha lived frugally and she made up her mind that she would find some way of repaying the
‘I pray you are right, Martha.’ Jane closed her eyes and lay back on the pillow. ‘I ought to get up. I am sure this is your bed and I have robbed you of a night’s rest—but I feel a little dizzy.’
‘There’s no hurry, lass. I slept on the sofa last night and George had a blanket on the floor. I’ll bring you something to eat and you’ll feel better soon. Until then, you should stay in bed.’
‘Thank you.’ Jane sighed. She was too weary to argue and she felt tearful. George had gone without saying goodbye to her. Would he return?
It shouldn’t matter. Now that he had left her she ought to be making plans to go home, but for the moment she did not feel well enough to make the attempt. Besides, if she did that, she might never see George again—and all contact with him would be broken. At least this way he might still help them rescue Mariah. Andrew would be worried, but perhaps George would keep his word and send her brother a message to let him know she was safe.
If she was safe! If George was right, Blakemight still be looking for them. He might even turn up at the cottage.
‘Please come back, George,’ Jane whispered, and a tear slid down her cheek. ‘Please do not leave me alone.’
She wasn’t alone. She was with a very kind woman who had given up her bed for her.
Jane wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. She was not a foolish weak woman to go into a decline because a man had left her. Once before she had thought herself falling in love with a man she hardly knew, but she had heard him dismiss her as that ‘plain-faced harpy’. He’d declared to a friend that he wouldn’t take her if she had twenty thousand a year.
That man’s cruel words, even though spoken in jest, had hurt her deeply. She’d decided then that she would not lay herself open to similar hurt again and had declined all attempts to draw her into another London Season. She would be very foolish to let her heart be touched by a man who had helped abduct her, even if he been kind to her. Jane wasn’t even sure that he would keep his word to return for her.
She would stay here for two days, but, ifGeorge didn’t return by then, she would find her way home somehow.
* * *
Jane was able to get up later that day. She went down to the kitchen to sit with Martha, refusing to use the best parlour even though she was invited.
‘I do not intend to sit around wasting my time until George returns,’ she said. ‘Today I shall just sit quietly, but tomorrow I could help you—if you would find me some work.’
‘In the morning, I must collect herbs and roots that I use for my cures,’ Martha said. ‘When I return I shall need to wash and chop them before I can make my recipes. You could help me with that if you choose.’
Jane thanked her. She was determined to earn her keep somehow, and after they had eaten their evening meal, helped to clear away and wash the dishes. Martha insisted that she take the bed again when it grew dark and since she would not be persuaded to let Jane take the sofa, she was obliged to give way.
She was wearing clothes Martha had provided. The much-washed linen gown fitted her well enough, though it was far from fashionableand had probably been Martha’s when she was young. Jane smiled to herself as she donned a rather too-large nightgown and slipped between the sheets. She was tired and went to sleep almost at once, though when she woke there were tears on her cheeks.
* * *
In the morning she went down to find the kitchen empty. Martha had lit the fire and there was a blackened copper kettle steaming away on the hob and some warm bread rolls wrapped in a cloth. Jane fetched butter from the pantry and spread one of the rolls, smearing it thinly with honey. It was clear to her that Martha lived frugally and she made up her mind that she would find some way of repaying the
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