As they passed the window, Sally gasped. “Oh my stars, I completely forgot!” She peered out into the garden.
“What is it?” Ashley also looked out the window, checking for anything out of the ordinary.
“When I came back from the shops, I met someone hiding in the stables. Asked if she could sleep in the hayloft tonight.”
“She?”
Sally nodded. “The wh-, er, the tart his lordship was fighting over. Says she can’t go home. They’ll hurt her.”
Ashley stared at Sally. “Well, we can’t allow that. Help me change my dress and then go bring her here.”
“Here, miss? In the house?”
“Here in my room. It’s not safe for her in the stables, either.”
They quickly got Ashley into a clean gown. “The blood on my dress doesn’t bother you?” Ashley asked as Sally clucked over the various spots and splatters and sank it into a bucket of water to soak.
“On fabric? No, miss. I deal with that every month. It’s when it’s from, uh…” she trailed off, staring at Ravencroft.
“Fresh from the source. Understandable.” She glanced out the window. “Go get her, if she’s still here.”
Chapter 9
Ashley was wringing out the compress for Ravencroft’s face when Sally returned, the prostitute at her heels.
Her mud-stained scarlet silk dress was torn at the shoulder, her disheveled long blond hair hung down in tangles, and tears had left tracks in her face powder and rouge. She clutched a small valise with both hands as she tiptoed toward the bed, staring at Ravencroft.
Ashley replaced the compress on the earl’s eye and straightened. “Who are you?”
“Je suis Marguerite,” the prostitute said, in the worst fake French accent Ashley had ever heard.
“Try again.” Ashley put her hands on her hips. It felt good to use her Teacher voice.
Her shoulders slumped. “Me mam and da named me Maggie, but Big Bob said customers like a girl with a French name better.” She sidled closer to the bed. Her hand went to her cheek, the same side that was injured on Ravencroft. “Is he hurt bad?” Tears welled up in her eyes and she sank to her knees, one hand clutching the edge of the blanket. “He stuck up for me when Big Bob was mad. I can’t remember the last time anyone stuck up for me. And I never even boffed him!”
Sally gasped. Ashley grabbed a washcloth and handed it to Maggie, and steered her toward the fireplace and buckets of water warming on the hearth. “Wash your face and tidy up. Do you have something else you can wear?” Ashley pointed at the valise.
Maggie sniffed. “All me dresses are like this.” She pointed at her low neckline. “When I heard Big Bob stomping up the stairs, I only had time to grab me flannel night rail and a few things before I climbed out the window.”
The years seem to fall away as Maggie washed off her cosmetics, leaving her looking much younger than Ashley had originally thought. The girl should still be in the schoolroom. Her bottom lip was split and swollen, and the left side of her face showed signs of bruising, her left eye nearly swollen shut.
“Why did you come here?”
Still clutching a wrung-out washcloth, Maggie walked toward the bed and gestured with one arm as though to stroke Ravencroft, still several feet away. “He’s kind. I could see it in his eyes. And then I saw how gentle you was taking care of him. I was hiding but heard you tell Sam where you lived.” She squeezed the washcloth so tight a few drops of water fell to the floor. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The last time Big Bob got mad at me like this, he beat me so bad I couldn’t work for almost a month. Near starved.”
She faced Ashley, her head bowed. “I wanted to see how badly they hurt his lordship. Hoped maybe I could do some sort of work and you’d let me sleep in the hayloft in exchange. Let me help take care of him.” She choked back a sob. “I feel terrible he got hurt on account of me. And I can’t go back to Big Bob and Little Lenny. They’ll kill me for sure this time. They was spitting mad that his lordship hurt Little Lenny. Busted up his knee.”
Sally handed her a dry cloth, Maggie wiped her eyes and blew her nose, and Ashley wondered how Ravencroft had injured a man’s knee in a fistfight.
“We’ll figure something out. Meanwhile, let’s take care of your face and find something more appropriate for you to wear.” Ashley sat Maggie at the writing table while she applied ointment to her bruises. “Are you injured … ah, anywhere else?” she quietly asked.
“No, my lady,” Maggie answered just as quietly.
Ashley breathed a sigh of relief. While Maggie applied the ointment to her split lip, Ashley freshened the compress on Ravencroft’s face. They moved to the dressing room and Ashley searched through her dresses. She and Maggie were of similar height, though Maggie had a slighter build. Perhaps one of the dresses she used to wear working in the academy’s garden would fit close enough, at least temporarily. She pulled out a tan dress in sprigged cotton that she liked because the floral pattern helped conceal dirt stains. She held it up to Maggie to check the fit.
Standing so close, there was no missing the loud rumble from Maggie’s stomach.
“When was the last time you ate?”
