AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Five o’clock and time for morning prayers.
Rise and scrub her face, supervise the sleepy masses in face washing and hand scrubbing. Walk with them to the stone chapel.
Kneel on the cold stone floor. Scent of tallow and penitence.
Her eyes flew open.
No Underwood. No lumpy straw ticking. No smell of mildew and mouse droppings.
Soft linens beneath her cheek.
A mattress fashioned of feathers and clouds.
And a beautiful face leaning over her bed, violet eyes dancing, and glossy black hair tumbling forward. The spicy scent of bold perfume.
Lady India?
Mari bolted upright. “I’ve overslept. Where are the children? What time is it?”
Lady India laughed. “Don’t fret, it’s still quite early. I wanted to catch you when I knew that Edgar wouldn’t see me. The man is nocturnal. Always poring over his engineering plans past midnight.”
It had been a week since Mari’s encounter with the duke in the library.
Edgar, Lady India called him with such familiarity. The name fit him. Hard-edged and guttural, like his voice had been, telling her to leave.
Or I could be the badone...
She still couldn’t believe she’d spoken those words. Placed her hand over his heart. Raised onto her tiptoes.
OhGod.
Her cheeks burned, thinking of their last encounter. Lady India wouldn’t be smiling at her if she knew what Mari had done.
“Are you well, Miss Perkins?” asked Lady India, peering down at her. “You look rather flushed.”
Mari startled. “Quite well. May I help you with something?”
Lady India nodded. “You may. Hop straight out of bed and put this on.” She handed Mari a silk dressing gown of a dusty rose hue. “The footmen are queuing at the door.”
Mari rubbed her eyes. Perhaps she was still dreaming. “Footmen?”
“Hurry now.” Lady India tugged her out of bed and helped her into the dressing gown, tying the sash tightly. “Enter,” she called.
The door swung open and a line of footmen streamed into the room, their arms filled with boxes and parcels of all shapes and sizes.
“What’s all this?” Mari asked.
A maid in a white frilled cap arrived carrying several long flat glove boxes. “Where do you want these, my lady?” she asked Lady India.
“On the bed for now, Fern.”
More footmen. More boxes.
“I don’t understand,” said Mari. “What are all of these parcels?”
“Your portmanteau was pilfered. This is the new wardrobe you were promised.”
“I can’t accept all of this! I don’t have the resources to...” She knew a proper lady never discussed finances, but she must impress upon this woman that she couldn’t afford such clothing. “I can’t recompense you, Lady India.”
