allay your fears at once: I have excellent news. I have been commissioned by the Duke of Huntford to create entirely new wardrobes for both of his sisters. It is a wonderful opportunity, and I’ll be earning much more than I did at the dress shop. In fact, the duke has generously advanced a portion of my wages so that I can pay Dr. Conwell as well as the rent we owe. I will send you money for other expenses as soon as I am able.
My only regret is that I must stay here, at the duke’s residence in Mayfair, until my assignment is completed. It is no hardship, I assure you, except that I shall miss both of you dreadfully. I wish I could be there to help with household matters.
However, I expect that I will be working here for about three months. I will write regularly, of course, and you must keep me apprised of everything Dr. Conwell says and how Mama is faring. If you need me, send word to this address, and I will come as quickly as I can.
Lovingly yours,
Anabelle
Relieved to have the letter written and frustrated that there was nothing more she could do at the moment, she removed her spectacles, tugged off her cap, pulled the pins from her hair, and rubbed her aching scalp. After slipping off her shoes, she climbed onto the bed and sank into the mattress. Although she’d been awake for two days straight, she was far too anxious to sleep. She would try to rest, though. She curled up on her side and let the silky pillowcase cradle her cheek.
Although her living arrangements were more than comfortable, she would not let down her guard. Members of the aristocracy were not to be trusted. Her own titled grandparents were the perfect example. They’d disowned their son—just because he’d married a commoner.
Wealth and privilege corrupted a person, and the Duke of Huntford had plenty of both. He also had the sort of green eyes that dazzled unsuspecting women.
Which was neither here nor there.
She was thinking of those heavy-lidded, soulful eyes, when, despite her best intentions, she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Five
Binding: (1) A long strip of fabric used to create a neat or decorative finish on an edge. (2) Chafing or restricting, as is often the case with tightly laced corsets.
A fter returning from Hyde Park that morning, Owen spent a few hours holed up in his study. He sent a message to Mrs. Smallwood, letting the proprietor of the dress shop know that her prized employee was on special assignment for a few months. She replied that she’d be happy to lend Miss Honeycote’s services and that the dress shop would supply all the fabric and trimmings.
It occurred to him that Miss Honeycote’s punishment was turning out to be a rather expensive prospect.
At breakfast he’d informed his sisters of the morning’s developments. He left out the bit about the bridge and the extortion.
They’d seemed delighted when he told them that Miss Honeycote would be making each of them several new gowns, and even more delighted when he mentioned that she’d be staying with them. As if it was a damned social visit.
A fly buzzing around Owen’s head distracted him from the papers that his steward had sent from Huntford Manor. He glanced at the clock on the mantel and realized that although it was almost two in the afternoon, he still hadn’t shaved or eaten lunch. Deciding he needed an excuse to stretch his legs, he walked upstairs to his bedchamber and, since his valet was not hovering about, saw to the task of lathering his face himself.
The cool blade scratched over his beard, and when the task was completed, he felt a tad more civilized. Now, if he could only locate a decent sandwich, he’d be a happy man. He strode down the corridor and turned toward the stairs, then stopped. Something at the other end of the hall looked odd. Different.
The door to the nursery. It was ajar.
He walked over and pushed it open. No one was there, but someone
had
been. The sheets covering the furniture were gone, and the shelves
My only regret is that I must stay here, at the duke’s residence in Mayfair, until my assignment is completed. It is no hardship, I assure you, except that I shall miss both of you dreadfully. I wish I could be there to help with household matters.
However, I expect that I will be working here for about three months. I will write regularly, of course, and you must keep me apprised of everything Dr. Conwell says and how Mama is faring. If you need me, send word to this address, and I will come as quickly as I can.
Lovingly yours,
Anabelle
Relieved to have the letter written and frustrated that there was nothing more she could do at the moment, she removed her spectacles, tugged off her cap, pulled the pins from her hair, and rubbed her aching scalp. After slipping off her shoes, she climbed onto the bed and sank into the mattress. Although she’d been awake for two days straight, she was far too anxious to sleep. She would try to rest, though. She curled up on her side and let the silky pillowcase cradle her cheek.
Although her living arrangements were more than comfortable, she would not let down her guard. Members of the aristocracy were not to be trusted. Her own titled grandparents were the perfect example. They’d disowned their son—just because he’d married a commoner.
Wealth and privilege corrupted a person, and the Duke of Huntford had plenty of both. He also had the sort of green eyes that dazzled unsuspecting women.
Which was neither here nor there.
She was thinking of those heavy-lidded, soulful eyes, when, despite her best intentions, she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Five
Binding: (1) A long strip of fabric used to create a neat or decorative finish on an edge. (2) Chafing or restricting, as is often the case with tightly laced corsets.
A fter returning from Hyde Park that morning, Owen spent a few hours holed up in his study. He sent a message to Mrs. Smallwood, letting the proprietor of the dress shop know that her prized employee was on special assignment for a few months. She replied that she’d be happy to lend Miss Honeycote’s services and that the dress shop would supply all the fabric and trimmings.
It occurred to him that Miss Honeycote’s punishment was turning out to be a rather expensive prospect.
At breakfast he’d informed his sisters of the morning’s developments. He left out the bit about the bridge and the extortion.
They’d seemed delighted when he told them that Miss Honeycote would be making each of them several new gowns, and even more delighted when he mentioned that she’d be staying with them. As if it was a damned social visit.
A fly buzzing around Owen’s head distracted him from the papers that his steward had sent from Huntford Manor. He glanced at the clock on the mantel and realized that although it was almost two in the afternoon, he still hadn’t shaved or eaten lunch. Deciding he needed an excuse to stretch his legs, he walked upstairs to his bedchamber and, since his valet was not hovering about, saw to the task of lathering his face himself.
The cool blade scratched over his beard, and when the task was completed, he felt a tad more civilized. Now, if he could only locate a decent sandwich, he’d be a happy man. He strode down the corridor and turned toward the stairs, then stopped. Something at the other end of the hall looked odd. Different.
The door to the nursery. It was ajar.
He walked over and pushed it open. No one was there, but someone
had
been. The sheets covering the furniture were gone, and the shelves
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