AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Eighteen
From her hiding place in the woods behind Worthington Hall, Lady Josephine could hear the bloodhounds. She could see the pinpoints of light, made by the lanterns carried by the Earl’s servants as they searched for her. She had to put as much distance as she could between Worthington Hall and herself. And she knew the Earl would not give up easily. There was too much at stake for him.
Well, there’s even more at stake for me,Lady Josephine thought.I must remain resolute.
The baying of the dogs grew closer.They sound like they haven’t been fed in weeks.
She approached a creek that looked too deep to cross on foot. Lady Josephine remembered hearing or reading somewhere that you could shake a bloodhound off the scent by getting wet. Without allowing herself to think twice, Lady Josephine plunged into the water, totally submerging herself. The water, fed by a bubbling underground spring, felt cold as ice.
She remained under water until she heard the dogs howling again. They were getting farther away, not nearer to her. Perhaps that would give her the time she needed to get off the Worthington estate.
She knew there was a harbor below, facing the English Channel. There would be a bustling town around a major harbor. People would be coming and going, arriving and departing by ship throughout the day. Surely a new face would not attract attention in a busy town like that.
Wet and numb with cold, she walked all night. As the sun came up, she could see the harbor below her and the streets and buildings surrounding it.
She made it to what seemed to be one of the main streets of Worthington Town. Weak and exhausted, she found she could go no further. She collapsed on the street and lay there, helpless.
* * *
Lady Josephine awoke to see a plump, motherly woman with a kind face leaning over her. “She seems to be waking up,” the woman said to someone standing behind her.
“You ’ad us worried,” the second woman said in a strong Cockney accent. “That was a bad blow to the ’ead you got when you fell down on the street.”
“Where am I?” Lady Josephine asked in a dazed voice.
“Well, this is the Ship and Anchor—we’re an inn and a public house near Worthington Harbor. What’s your name, dearie? Are you from around these parts? Or did you come here on a boat?”
“My name is...Martha,” said Lady Josephine. She recalled how she had battered the poor woman’s head, and she felt guilty.She was only a servant, doing what she was told,Lady Josephine thought.Now I suppose the Earl will also punish her for letting me escape. But what else could I have done? I had to save my own life.
“Martha what, dearie? What’s your family name?” the first woman asked.
The second woman quickly broke in and asked, “Where are you from? We need to notify your people about where you are.”
“I...I don’t know,” Lady Josephine said. She had quickly decided that to fake the loss of her memory was probably the safest thing she could do. “I just don’t remember anything from before I fell. My mind is blank.”
“She’s been sick, Mrs. Branwell,” one of the women said to the other. “Look, ’er hair ’as all fallen out, and it’s just starting to grow back in. A few years back, my mother-in-law’s sister fell ill—she was delirious, didn’t know who she was or anything. Her ’air all fell out too. The physician said it was brain fever. They were lucky they saved her!”
“Well, don’t you worry, dearie,” Mrs. Branwell said. “My husband and I run the Ship and Anchor. You can stay here a while, till you’re feeling better.
“Then, come to think of it, we do need an extra set of hands working in the pub and kitchen. We’re down one girl since Molly married that sailor. When you’re on your feet you can take her job, if your memory still hasn’t come back. Room and board, plus five shillings a week pay. At least you’ll be in a safe place for a while.”
“Thank you,” said Lady Josephine in a quavering voice.At least I can stay here until I am able to contact someone—maybe Hermie. My lord father is somewhere in France, and Ace is on a ship to God knows where. I have no money to get back to London, and even if I did, the Earl would find me there.He’ll probably have men looking for me here in Worthington Town—I just have to hope they wouldn’t expect to find me in a pub. I really have nowhere else to turn.
At this sad thought, Lady Josephine felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks.
“Oh, you poor creature!” said Mrs. Branwell. “You just rest for a while, Martha. We’ll bring you some good, hot soup—very nourishing.”
* * *
Lady Josephine rested for a few days. After having subsisted on bread and water for nearly two weeks at Worthington Hall, Lady Josephine now grew stronger on the simple, wholesome country food served at the inn.
Mrs. Branwell kept an eye on her progress. After a few days, the landlady said, “Those who eat must work, dearie.” It was not said unkindly. But Mrs. Branwell had a business to run; moreover, she thought “Martha” would benefit from some movement and activity.
Lady Josephine volunteered for the tasks that would not require her to have to go into the main room of the tavern too often. She scrubbed the kitchen floor and the tabletops; she washed what seemed like hundreds of emptied ale mugs. She laundered the sheets used in the inn’s bedrooms and then made up the beds.
Mrs. Branwell noticed that “Martha” seemed new to these tasks. Her hands were soft and uncalloused, like those of a lady who had had servants and never had had to labor for herself. There was a mystery here, certainly. But Mrs. Branwell, as a good innkeeper, was used to witnessing and hearing many things she shouldn’t. If “Martha” wanted to keep her own secrets, so be it.
Lady Josephine was given a berth in a tiny room where three other barmaids also slept. Four to a room! But then she remembered Ace’s description of rooms in the Rookeries, ten or twenty souls of all ages crammed into a single room. If he had been able to survive such conditions, she could surely cope with this.
