sweating horses.
“No bloody wonder. You drive like a maniac!” Roz accused through the window.
Bradshaw touched his tricorn and looked inordinately pleased.
Mr. Burke said, “Drive across the yard while I watch.”
Bradshaw climbed to the driver’s seat and tooled the coach across the inn yard. The back wheel wobbled ominouslyand the heavy iron nut rolled from the hub onto the ground.
“Stop! Stop!” shouted Mr. Burke in alarm. “The back wheel is about to fly off!”
A shaken Bradshaw came to examine it. “The lockpin’s gone. Christ, that was a close call!”
Mr. Burke suggested the ladies take refreshment while a new lockpin and nut were secured at the stables. The ladies didn’t bat an eye at their close encounter with death as they alighted and went to sit in the inn’s parlor.
The innkeeper muttered under his breath when Roz ordered a dish of bohea and Antonia asked for cider. Bloody tea would take the place of ale and spirits if it kept growing in popularity, and then where would he be?
When Mr. Burke came in and ordered small beer the frown left the innkeeper’s face. Mr. Burke’s brows were drawn together, however. “Two accidents in two days strike me as suspicious,” he said quietly.
“It’s just coincidence,” Antonia replied.
“There is no such thing as coincidence,” Roz scoffed.
“Do you think someone is deliberately trying to harm us?” Antonia asked jokingly.
“It’s within the realm of possibility that someone is trying to harm Anthony.”
Antonia said with disbelief, “You actually think that cousin you mentioned would come all the way to Stoke and prowl about stealing lockpins and cutting through saddle straps? He probably isn’t aware of our existence.”
Roz and Mr. Burke exchanged significant glances. They did not wish to alarm Antonia over what might be only a suspicion and carried on the journey to London without discussing it further.
That night, however, as Antonia slept in her bed in Curzon Street, a terrifying nightmare gripped her. She dreamed that while they were away in London, someone murdered her twin brother. She was shattered. The deep pain of Anthony’s death was like losing a part of herself,an arm or a leg. When they rushed back to Lamb Hall they discovered that everything they owned had become the property of the new Lord Lamb.
They were not even permitted to set foot on the land to decently bury Anthony. An evil cousin, who was all the more terrifying because he was faceless, was in firm possession of the title, the Hall, and the property.
She and her grandmother had been dispossessed of everything—furniture, clothes, even keepsakes. They were destitute and about to be sent to the poorhouse. The nightmare was so real and so devastating, Antonia awoke in terror and huddled beneath the covers thinking it had really happened. Her arms were covered with gooseflesh and her feet felt as cold as if she had been trudging barefoot in deep snow. Dawn was creeping up the sky before she could stop shivering.
Chapter 6
By the time Antonia arrived at the chambers of Watson and Goldman, the terror of the dream had evaporated, but it had hardened her resolve to find out about her financial position.
She was ushered to a chair by Mr. Watson, who found her appearance quite changed today from the young girl he had seen in the country. In London, of course, everyone was bewigged. He himself now wore the new-fashioned tiewig, but his partner, Mr. Goldman, still preferred the full-bottomed wig that he insisted carried the authority necessary for their profession.
Young Lady Lamb was dressed in the height of fashion, with fitted pelisse and billowing silk skirts, even thoughthey were in mourning black. And the saucy little hat with its black ostrich feather looked very smart indeed atop the fashionably powdered wig. Only her green eyes, exactly like her brother’s, reminded him that she was a twin.
“Mr. Watson,” she began, “there is absolutely no
“No bloody wonder. You drive like a maniac!” Roz accused through the window.
Bradshaw touched his tricorn and looked inordinately pleased.
Mr. Burke said, “Drive across the yard while I watch.”
Bradshaw climbed to the driver’s seat and tooled the coach across the inn yard. The back wheel wobbled ominouslyand the heavy iron nut rolled from the hub onto the ground.
“Stop! Stop!” shouted Mr. Burke in alarm. “The back wheel is about to fly off!”
A shaken Bradshaw came to examine it. “The lockpin’s gone. Christ, that was a close call!”
Mr. Burke suggested the ladies take refreshment while a new lockpin and nut were secured at the stables. The ladies didn’t bat an eye at their close encounter with death as they alighted and went to sit in the inn’s parlor.
The innkeeper muttered under his breath when Roz ordered a dish of bohea and Antonia asked for cider. Bloody tea would take the place of ale and spirits if it kept growing in popularity, and then where would he be?
When Mr. Burke came in and ordered small beer the frown left the innkeeper’s face. Mr. Burke’s brows were drawn together, however. “Two accidents in two days strike me as suspicious,” he said quietly.
“It’s just coincidence,” Antonia replied.
“There is no such thing as coincidence,” Roz scoffed.
“Do you think someone is deliberately trying to harm us?” Antonia asked jokingly.
“It’s within the realm of possibility that someone is trying to harm Anthony.”
Antonia said with disbelief, “You actually think that cousin you mentioned would come all the way to Stoke and prowl about stealing lockpins and cutting through saddle straps? He probably isn’t aware of our existence.”
Roz and Mr. Burke exchanged significant glances. They did not wish to alarm Antonia over what might be only a suspicion and carried on the journey to London without discussing it further.
That night, however, as Antonia slept in her bed in Curzon Street, a terrifying nightmare gripped her. She dreamed that while they were away in London, someone murdered her twin brother. She was shattered. The deep pain of Anthony’s death was like losing a part of herself,an arm or a leg. When they rushed back to Lamb Hall they discovered that everything they owned had become the property of the new Lord Lamb.
They were not even permitted to set foot on the land to decently bury Anthony. An evil cousin, who was all the more terrifying because he was faceless, was in firm possession of the title, the Hall, and the property.
She and her grandmother had been dispossessed of everything—furniture, clothes, even keepsakes. They were destitute and about to be sent to the poorhouse. The nightmare was so real and so devastating, Antonia awoke in terror and huddled beneath the covers thinking it had really happened. Her arms were covered with gooseflesh and her feet felt as cold as if she had been trudging barefoot in deep snow. Dawn was creeping up the sky before she could stop shivering.
Chapter 6
By the time Antonia arrived at the chambers of Watson and Goldman, the terror of the dream had evaporated, but it had hardened her resolve to find out about her financial position.
She was ushered to a chair by Mr. Watson, who found her appearance quite changed today from the young girl he had seen in the country. In London, of course, everyone was bewigged. He himself now wore the new-fashioned tiewig, but his partner, Mr. Goldman, still preferred the full-bottomed wig that he insisted carried the authority necessary for their profession.
Young Lady Lamb was dressed in the height of fashion, with fitted pelisse and billowing silk skirts, even thoughthey were in mourning black. And the saucy little hat with its black ostrich feather looked very smart indeed atop the fashionably powdered wig. Only her green eyes, exactly like her brother’s, reminded him that she was a twin.
“Mr. Watson,” she began, “there is absolutely no
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