Alley, its horses pawing restlessly. As she approached, the carriage door opened, a fresh-faced maid peeking out, motioning with her hands to hurry. Moving as fast as she could, Jane climbed up and inside. Once the door was secured behind her, they were off, clip-clopping down the street to a destination unknown. Marworth had promised a safe haven, where she could get on to the difficult business of becoming Lillianne Fauchon.
“My lady, begging your pardon, I’m Jessica, Oakley if you prefer. Lord Marworth said to make certain you get out of those wet things.”
“But I couldn’t possibly change in a carriage.” Jane glanced at the small windows on either side of her. “Someone might see me.” She could swim in the Thames and perpetrate a lie in front of the prince regent himself, but somehow, the idea of undressing in a moving conveyance went too far beyond the pale.
“I won’t look, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the maid replied, pulling dark curtains down over the windows. “We’ve several hours in this carriage. If you want to spend them chilled to the bone, that’s your choice.”
It was hard to argue with the logic of her statement. Still, Jane stiffened out of habit. “You can’t have been long in service, Oakley. You’re too impertinent.” She was also very pretty, though, with blond ringlets beneath her mob cap, bright eyes, and a trim figure. She would never be hired in a married woman’s house. That was certain. But given Marworth’s reputation …
Coloring, the girl pressed her mouth into a thin line. “I’ve been in service long enough to know foolishness when I see it.” She pushed a dress towards Jane. “It’s nothing fancy, mind you. Just something comfortable to wear on the journey. And there’s toweling, too. No mirror, though. I wouldn’t want you to frighten yourself.”
“No doubt I’d faint with mortification,” she said wryly. “But I do appreciate the dress. Truth be told, I’m exhausted and uncomfortable. Both things make me snappish.”
“We’ll agree on that, then,” Oakley said, although not unkindly.
Changing out of her wet clothes was among the more challenging things Jane had done. Her limbs resisted every movement, the coach swaying as they picked up speed. Her undergarments finally gave way with a sucking sound as she peeled them off, embarrassed even for a moment to be naked in front of a stranger. Oakley kept her eyes adverted, though, packing the discarded ensemble into a coarse cloth bag and tying it tightly with a length of rope. “Hopefully, that will contain the stink,” she said as Jane did her best to dry off before slipping into the modest dress, its linen soft and pliable, and a pair of worn slippers.
“Thank you, Oakley,” she said once she was buttoned back up. “This makes me feel much better.” It was only marginally true, though. Never a particularly good traveler, Jane found that the jostling carriage was upsetting her stomach. She was also prone to megrims—was the dull ache settling in her head the prelude to an attack?
Nearly two hours later, she knew it was not a megrim but instead a strange disease that would likely end in her second death of the day. Her dress was sweat-soaked, and the carriage had stopped three times en route so she could retch, obviously a disgusting new habit.
When they arrived at their final destination—in the dark it appeared to be a sizable estate—she made every effort to smile weakly at the young boy, illuminated by torchlight, running towards the carriage in welcome. But even that smile set her off kilter, and moments later, everything faded to black.
• • •
As Jane stirred, the disturbing figures in her dream slipped away like a receding wave. The images still haunted, though, and she cracked open her eyes to be free of them, only to see an angel standing above her, limned in light. Blinking to clear her vision, she discovered what she’d already begun to suspect. This was
“My lady, begging your pardon, I’m Jessica, Oakley if you prefer. Lord Marworth said to make certain you get out of those wet things.”
“But I couldn’t possibly change in a carriage.” Jane glanced at the small windows on either side of her. “Someone might see me.” She could swim in the Thames and perpetrate a lie in front of the prince regent himself, but somehow, the idea of undressing in a moving conveyance went too far beyond the pale.
“I won’t look, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the maid replied, pulling dark curtains down over the windows. “We’ve several hours in this carriage. If you want to spend them chilled to the bone, that’s your choice.”
It was hard to argue with the logic of her statement. Still, Jane stiffened out of habit. “You can’t have been long in service, Oakley. You’re too impertinent.” She was also very pretty, though, with blond ringlets beneath her mob cap, bright eyes, and a trim figure. She would never be hired in a married woman’s house. That was certain. But given Marworth’s reputation …
Coloring, the girl pressed her mouth into a thin line. “I’ve been in service long enough to know foolishness when I see it.” She pushed a dress towards Jane. “It’s nothing fancy, mind you. Just something comfortable to wear on the journey. And there’s toweling, too. No mirror, though. I wouldn’t want you to frighten yourself.”
“No doubt I’d faint with mortification,” she said wryly. “But I do appreciate the dress. Truth be told, I’m exhausted and uncomfortable. Both things make me snappish.”
“We’ll agree on that, then,” Oakley said, although not unkindly.
Changing out of her wet clothes was among the more challenging things Jane had done. Her limbs resisted every movement, the coach swaying as they picked up speed. Her undergarments finally gave way with a sucking sound as she peeled them off, embarrassed even for a moment to be naked in front of a stranger. Oakley kept her eyes adverted, though, packing the discarded ensemble into a coarse cloth bag and tying it tightly with a length of rope. “Hopefully, that will contain the stink,” she said as Jane did her best to dry off before slipping into the modest dress, its linen soft and pliable, and a pair of worn slippers.
“Thank you, Oakley,” she said once she was buttoned back up. “This makes me feel much better.” It was only marginally true, though. Never a particularly good traveler, Jane found that the jostling carriage was upsetting her stomach. She was also prone to megrims—was the dull ache settling in her head the prelude to an attack?
Nearly two hours later, she knew it was not a megrim but instead a strange disease that would likely end in her second death of the day. Her dress was sweat-soaked, and the carriage had stopped three times en route so she could retch, obviously a disgusting new habit.
When they arrived at their final destination—in the dark it appeared to be a sizable estate—she made every effort to smile weakly at the young boy, illuminated by torchlight, running towards the carriage in welcome. But even that smile set her off kilter, and moments later, everything faded to black.
• • •
As Jane stirred, the disturbing figures in her dream slipped away like a receding wave. The images still haunted, though, and she cracked open her eyes to be free of them, only to see an angel standing above her, limned in light. Blinking to clear her vision, she discovered what she’d already begun to suspect. This was
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