be another way,” Miranda implored.
“There isn’t,” Grace said. “God has given us this oar, and we must use it to make our escape.”
Miranda wasn’t entirely able to hide her half-horrified, half-shocked look at the mention of Deity.
“I’m sorry,” Grace hastened to apologize. “But I feel that He, too, would want to help me, and so He has. Now it is up to us to do our part.”
Miranda took a step back from the bed and shook her head. “I don’t want to know what that part is.”
“It’s quite simple, really.” Grace began pacing the floor, taking a minute to think her plan through more thoroughly. She hadn’t walked but a few steps when the room blurred before her eyes; she stumbled and nearly fell.
“ My partought to be ensuring you stay in bed and get well.” Miranda’s scolding tone returned.
“A luxury I can ill afford,” Grace objected. She leaned on Miranda and steadied herself, waiting for her head to clear. It was discouraging to find she felt faint and weak as she had the previous evening. Shrugging off her discomfort, she straightened to her full height — still shorter than Miranda’s — and spoke in her most commanding tone.
“We must make haste to Mr. Preston’s as soon as possible. Once there, your task ...” She paused, catching Miranda’s eye and holding it. “Is to gossip.”
Grace wrapped her trembling fingers around a cup of hot tea, hoping the warmth would steady them — steady her. Behind her, Miranda deftly wove Grace’s hair into an acceptable — if not fashionable — knot at the base of her neck.
“At least your hair’s tamed now.” Miranda spoke with the satisfaction of accomplishment. Grace knew that, given the state of her hair this morning, after being damp and loose all night, that shaping it into any sort of bun was nothing short of miraculous.
“It does feel better. Thank you.” Most of her felt quite a bit better after eating a piece of toast and getting dressed in her own clothes. Her chest still hurt, and her hip and back were sore and bruised — either from the fall from Sir Lidgate’s horse, the carriage accident, rolling off Lord Sutherland’s bed, or, quite probably, the three combined. But all in all, her physical condition was much improved. Her mind, so clear and focused earlier, was another matter entirely; the shaking teacup was evidence of her nerves as she contemplated what they were about to undertake.
Grace gave up any hope of drinking and set the cup back in the saucer before she spilled tea all over her gown, which Harrison had retrieved from their broken-down carriage. “Are we ready, then?” She looked into the glass and caught Miranda’s eye once more.
“Lord Sutherland’s landau is below. Mr. Kingsley assured us that it would be no problem to use it.”
“In the same way it was no problem to make use of Lord Sutherland’s bed last night?” A nervous giggle escaped Grace’s lips. “Mr. Kingsley knows no such thing about the landau,” she guessed. “It seems he takes far too many liberties with his lordship’s possessions.”
“He may have just cause.” Miranda placed a final pin in Grace’s hair. “Mrs. James says Lord Sutherland is home not one day of twenty. It’s up to her and Mr. Kingsley to keep this place going. Kingsley must make decisions if anything is to be run halfway proper.”
“I certainly do not begrudge him his kindness and generosity last night,” Grace said sincerely. “If our plans come to fruition, he has done an even kinder turn than he realized.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Miranda said. Contrary to her usual restraint, she’d made her mind known about Grace’s scheme. “But don’t trouble yourself over using a carriage.” Miranda handed Grace her bonnet. “Kingsley said there were several to choose from. It’s doubtful Lord Sutherland will miss one.”
This was not good news. She didn’t want Lord Sutherland to have several carriages or anything
“There isn’t,” Grace said. “God has given us this oar, and we must use it to make our escape.”
Miranda wasn’t entirely able to hide her half-horrified, half-shocked look at the mention of Deity.
“I’m sorry,” Grace hastened to apologize. “But I feel that He, too, would want to help me, and so He has. Now it is up to us to do our part.”
Miranda took a step back from the bed and shook her head. “I don’t want to know what that part is.”
“It’s quite simple, really.” Grace began pacing the floor, taking a minute to think her plan through more thoroughly. She hadn’t walked but a few steps when the room blurred before her eyes; she stumbled and nearly fell.
“ My partought to be ensuring you stay in bed and get well.” Miranda’s scolding tone returned.
“A luxury I can ill afford,” Grace objected. She leaned on Miranda and steadied herself, waiting for her head to clear. It was discouraging to find she felt faint and weak as she had the previous evening. Shrugging off her discomfort, she straightened to her full height — still shorter than Miranda’s — and spoke in her most commanding tone.
“We must make haste to Mr. Preston’s as soon as possible. Once there, your task ...” She paused, catching Miranda’s eye and holding it. “Is to gossip.”
Grace wrapped her trembling fingers around a cup of hot tea, hoping the warmth would steady them — steady her. Behind her, Miranda deftly wove Grace’s hair into an acceptable — if not fashionable — knot at the base of her neck.
“At least your hair’s tamed now.” Miranda spoke with the satisfaction of accomplishment. Grace knew that, given the state of her hair this morning, after being damp and loose all night, that shaping it into any sort of bun was nothing short of miraculous.
“It does feel better. Thank you.” Most of her felt quite a bit better after eating a piece of toast and getting dressed in her own clothes. Her chest still hurt, and her hip and back were sore and bruised — either from the fall from Sir Lidgate’s horse, the carriage accident, rolling off Lord Sutherland’s bed, or, quite probably, the three combined. But all in all, her physical condition was much improved. Her mind, so clear and focused earlier, was another matter entirely; the shaking teacup was evidence of her nerves as she contemplated what they were about to undertake.
Grace gave up any hope of drinking and set the cup back in the saucer before she spilled tea all over her gown, which Harrison had retrieved from their broken-down carriage. “Are we ready, then?” She looked into the glass and caught Miranda’s eye once more.
“Lord Sutherland’s landau is below. Mr. Kingsley assured us that it would be no problem to use it.”
“In the same way it was no problem to make use of Lord Sutherland’s bed last night?” A nervous giggle escaped Grace’s lips. “Mr. Kingsley knows no such thing about the landau,” she guessed. “It seems he takes far too many liberties with his lordship’s possessions.”
“He may have just cause.” Miranda placed a final pin in Grace’s hair. “Mrs. James says Lord Sutherland is home not one day of twenty. It’s up to her and Mr. Kingsley to keep this place going. Kingsley must make decisions if anything is to be run halfway proper.”
“I certainly do not begrudge him his kindness and generosity last night,” Grace said sincerely. “If our plans come to fruition, he has done an even kinder turn than he realized.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Miranda said. Contrary to her usual restraint, she’d made her mind known about Grace’s scheme. “But don’t trouble yourself over using a carriage.” Miranda handed Grace her bonnet. “Kingsley said there were several to choose from. It’s doubtful Lord Sutherland will miss one.”
This was not good news. She didn’t want Lord Sutherland to have several carriages or anything
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