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“I don’t understand. How will you get on a ship to get back to London without coin? Maybe you could ask Mr. Thixton—”
“No,” she insisted. “I won’t ask him.” She looked into Myra’s pretty face. “I don’t want a thing that belongs to him, not a stitch of clothing, not so much as an apple, do you understand me?”
“The others’ll help out. When you goin’?”
Sapphire pressed her lips together, refusing to cry. “The sooner the better,” she said stoically. “Tonight. I cannot abide to remain in his house another minute.”
It was well after dark, close to ten thirty, when Sapphire stood in the kitchen courtyard and accepted the canvas bag that Myra offered.
“You look good,” Myra said, tears causing her cheeks to glisten in the rising moonlight.
Sapphire looked down at the canvas trousers and rough, darned cotton shirt she wore. When Myra had agreed to find her clothes, Sapphire had insisted it would be safer for her to travel as a young boy rather than as an unescorted woman. There were enough dangers on the road for a young man, but those for a woman were even greater.
“You think so?” Sapphire asked. “Do I look like a boy?”
“Like a handsome stable boy.” Myra reached out and pinched her cheek.
Sapphire laughed, feeling her own tears begin to well. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“I mean it.” Sapphire squeezed her hand. “You’ve been as good a friend to me these past weeks as I’ve ever had.”
“Haven’t done nothin’ you wouldn’t ’ve done for me,” Myra said almost shyly.
“True enough. Now I have to go and I want you to go inside and get to bed so no one is suspicious.”
“But where will you go? The coins I collected are barely enough to buy a few loaves of bread.”
“It’s better if I don’t tell you where I’m going—that way you won’t know if you’re questioned.”
“You’re prob’bly right. Better I don’t know a thing to tell Mr. Thixton when he starts his bellowin’.” Myra rolled her eyes. “He scares me a little when he starts hollerin’ the way he does sometimes.”
Sapphire smiled. “He may not holler at all
. He might not even ask for me.”
“Oh, he’ll ask. Mr. Thixton’s like that, like any man. He wants to be in charge, not just of himself, but everyone else, too.”
Sapphire hugged Myra one last time, adjusted her cap and walked through the gate. “Bye, Myra.”
“Bye, Molly. I hope you find your way home,” the maid called after her, tearfully. “I hope you find happiness.”
Happiness? Sapphire was beginning to think happiness was beyond her reach, but she was determined to go home.
“Gone? What do you mean, gone?” Blake demanded, setting down his newspaper. “Gone to the market? Gone to the dairy? What?”
“No, sih,” the housekeeper said, keeping her gaze fixed on the carpet in the small dining room.
Blake had chosen to have breakfast this morning in the dining room, rather than his bedchamber, so that when he spoke with Sapphire, she would remain calm.
“Where has she gone, Mrs. Dedrick?”
“I don’t know. Quit.”
“Quit?” He hit the table with his fist. “She can’t quit. Where did she go? This is preposterous! Ask the servants—the dark-haired one—they seemed to be friendly.”
“I’ve already asked them. All the house gihls—boys in the stable, too. No one’s seen heh. Not since last night, Mr. Thixton.”
