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Chapter 5
When Eloise woke up, it was probably afternoon. She wasn’t used to waking up so late. But since she’d fallen asleep after dawn, it was not surprising.
The fact was, no matter how tired she was, she could not quite fall asleep. The events of the night kept playing over and over in her head: the dirty thugs, the unpleasant behavior she had witnessed during dinner and on the dancefloor, and then the rescue by the master of the house.
He wasn’t pleasant about it either. But his protectiveness was both alarming and reassuring.
She opened her eyes and stretched in bed. Twenty-four more hours of this, and she would be able to contact her brother. She could last twenty-four more hours.
Eloise sat up and groaned, thinking about having to wear her old and dirty gown again. She’d washed it as much as she could last night in the washbasin, but she needed it scrubbed after what had happened the night before. Especially after the bandit pawed her with his greasy palms. She shivered in thought.
Eloise scrambled out of bed and walked to the chair that held her clothing, only to halt in surprise. Instead of her greasy, old gown, there was a clean old-fashioned gown, a pair of slippers, as well as a new chemise and stockings.
Eloise’s features cleared as she carefully picked up the gown and rubbed the fabric between her fingers. Her eyes closed, and she fought the urge to moan. It was so soft and nice to touch. But more importantly, it was clean.
Had Hades bought these clothes for her?
Eloise had mentioned the condition of her wardrobe to Verity the night before, and the latter even offered her own gowns to wear. Eloise was thankful, truly, but she still felt odd wearing harlot’s clothing. She doubted Verity could procure her a new gown and unmentionables in such perfect condition on such short notice. But perhaps Hades could.
The stockings and chemise seemed never worn, and she was thankful for that. Eloise put on the new clothing with a big smile on her face. It was nice wearing this soft, clean clothing.
Now, to get on with her day. She squared her shoulders—something she did quite often in this place—and prepared herself for the world outside of her bedchamber.
She peeked out from her chamber to see her guards, Garric and Sal, standing still by her door. Didn’t they ever sleep?
“Good morning,” she rasped, her voice still hoarse from the cold of the morning.
Sal turned toward her, and she smiled at the man.
“Have you been standing here all night?” she asked.
“No, we just changed shifts. We do sleep,” he answered with a toothless grin.
Eloise smiled at Garric, but he ignored her. Well, at least one of the guards felt charitable toward her. She’d work with that, and then she’d work on endearing herself to Garric too. She needed them to be friendly toward her to make her eventual escape possible.
She stepped out of her room. “Would you like to join me for some breakfast?”
Now Garric finally acknowledged her. He turned toward her in curiosity. Apparently, she’d found the right technique for softening the men toward her.
“Would you like us to call Verity—”
“No,” Eloise interrupted swiftly. “I’d rather eat in the kitchen.”
“Kitchen?” Sal frowned. “Why would you want to eat there?”
“Where else should I eat?”
“If not your room, then the dining hall.”
Eloise suppressed a grimace at the memory of last night’s festivities. “I’d like to see where the food is prepared.”
Sal shrugged. “Whatever you wish,” he said, and they all ventured down the corridor.
“Sal, I didn’t have much time to see the entire house yesterday. I would love to have a tour. Perhaps you can show me on the way to the kitchen?”
The man agreed readily. He proudly commented on the unique safety features of the mansion: the small windows, the overlapping corridors. As far as Sal could see, there were no ways out of this house undetected.
Garric was not too fond of the conversation, and he just grunted from time to time, indicating his displeasure.
