Page 91 of When We Touch

They waved to the two they had just met and hurried out to the streets.

“This is daft!” Fiona protested.

“This is perfect!” Arianna countered.

“And how do we get home?”

“In a cab, same way we came.”

“Now we’re filthy, in rags, and it’s very late.”

“We’ll sneak in through the tree.”

“I’m not climbing that tree!”

“You’ll have to,” Arianna told her. “Why, Janie, dear, this is almost fun!”

Fiona rolled her eyes. It wasn’t fun.

It was frightening. Terribly, terribly, frightening.

* * *

Maggie walked purposely to her stepdaughter’s room. She was tempted to merely slam the door open. She refrained, and knocked. There was no answer.

She walked down the stairs, sliding her black mourning cap from her head. “Mrs. Whitley!” she called, and the woman came in from the direction of the kitchen.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Has Lady Arianna gone out?”

“I believe she took a sedative, and is resting.”

“Ah, fine. Well, I shall let her rest. However, in an hour, wake her.”

“For supper? Then I shall have to quickly get the cook moving. We assumed, my lady, that you were dining out, when you left no orders and didn’t return. I’m afraid a decent meal will take a bit more than an hour.”

“I don’t want a meal, Mrs. Whitley. I just want Arianna awakened. In an hour. Thank you so very much.”

She turned and started up the stairs. She wondered how it would look if she fired Mrs. Whitley.

In her room, she thought about calling for Fiona, but she’d always done for herself, at least, in the last many years she had, and so she discarded the clothing she had worn to Whitechapel, washed, and dressed anew. She went to her desk, pulled the newspaper clipping from her reticule, and read it again, her temper growing.

Then she smiled and settled in to wait.

She thought that she would have to go after Arianna, that Mrs. Whitley would arrive—distressed, of course—to say that the young lady simply refused to come.

But at the appointed hour, Arianna knocked at her door. Maggie bid her to enter, and she came in, looking somewhat flushed and hurried.

“Good evening,” Maggie said quietly. “Thank you for arriving so promptly.”

“I wouldn’t dream of being disobedient to—my guardian,” Arianna said, making the last word sound like ogre.

“How thoughtful of you,” Maggie replied sweetly. “I can see that we are going to get along fabulously well.”

“Um. I need my allowance.”

Maggie nodded. “I’ll see that Darby has it for you tomorrow. But really, how could you possibly need money? Didn’t the newspaper pay you?”