Becky’s face crumpled. “Sorry, Miss Hannah.”
Hannah groaned. “I told you not to come here, Becky. You might have sent word and I would have met you somewhere.”
“I’m sorry. I was just so worried.” Tears filled the girl’s eyes.
Hannah bit her lip to stifle another rebuke. “I know. It was good of you to think of Danny. And me. There now, don’t cry. You meant well.”
“But how will you pay Mrs. Beech if you haven’t a post?”
Hannah blinked back tears of her own. “I don’t know.” One idea came to her—a possibility she’d avoided resorting to before.
As the housekeeper predicted, the dowager dismissed Hannah soon after Becky departed, and vowed that Hannah wouldn’t find another situation in Bath with any decent woman of her acquaintance.
Hannah swallowed bile at the cruel words the woman had slung at her, words like “undeserving,” “deceitful,” and worse.
She packed her belongings into her valise and left with a heavy heart, knowing what she must do. She had promised herself she would never return. Yet she found herself walking north, up Lansdown Street, and turning into Camden Place. To that gate, that door, that house she had left some half a year before.
She let herself in at the low wrought-iron gate, hoping not to encounter Mr. Ward, who would likely greet her with a lewd offer or send her away with a harsh word before she’d even seen Lady Mayfield.
She hesitated to knock on the front door. She had to remind herself that she had not been in service—she had been Lady Mayfield’s companion. A gentlewoman, though a poor one.
Without change of expression, the stoic butler, Hopkins, let her in, allowed her to leave her valise in the hall cupboard, and showed her into the morning room while he went to see if Lady Mayfield was at home to callers. Thankfully there wasno sign of Mr. Ward. Still, Hannah wrung her gloved hands, fearing her former mistress might refuse to see her, especially as she had left her so abruptly.
A few moments later, Lady Mayfield burst into the room. “Hannah! My goodness. I never expected to see you again.”
Marianna went on, exclaiming how pleased she was to see her. Then the woman surveyed her from head to toe, speculation gleaming in her brown eyes. “You appear in good health. If a little tired. And thin.”
Oh yes, Hannah was considerably thinner now than she had been when Marianna had last seen her.
Hannah clasped her hands tightly together, pulse pounding to be in the presence of a Mayfield once again. Then she sheepishly asked for her final allowance.
Marianna agreed, and in short order Mr. Ward was summoned to bring it.
At the mention of his name, Hannah shivered. Mr. Ward, along with several other servants, had come to Bath with the Mayfields from their primary residence in Bristol. How she’d detested his leering glances and wandering hands.
While they waited, Hannah listened in stunned silence as Lady Mayfield begged her to accompany her as traveling companion, even going so far as to offer her double her former allowance. Hannah hesitated. It was a good offer. No—what was she thinking? She could not leave. She had a child now, though she hadn’t the courage to tell Marianna Mayfield that.
Yet, could she afford to refuse such an offer? Especially when Marianna said Hannah could leave whenever she wanted—which would be just as soon as she earned enough. And at the offered rate, it wouldn’t take long, assuming Mrs. Beech didn’t raise her fees again. But what if Becky came looking for her with more worrisome news, and she was nowhere to be found? What if something happened to Danny before she could return? What then?
Mr. Ward came in with her allowance—minus what he’d subtracted for her early departure without notice. She avoided his cold eyes and laid out her palm, feeling like a beggar.I earned this fairly, she reminded herself, though the discomfort did not ease. He dropped several sovereigns and shillings onto her outstretched hand, careful not to touch her. He had not been so careful before.
When he left, Hannah studied the coins in her hand. It would help. It would reduce the amount she owed greedy Mrs. Beech. But it wasn’t enough. It might buy her some time, though. Assure a measure of safety for her son until she could earn the rest.
She told Lady Mayfield she was grateful for the offer but needed time to think about it.
Marianna Mayfield studied her. “Well, don’t think too long,” she said. “We’re leaving at four this afternoon, according to Sir John. Unless I can persuade him to forgo this idiotic notion. Jealous fool.”
Sir John had the right to be jealous, Hannah knew. She chewed her lip and considered. Dare she throw in her lot with tempestuous Lady Mayfield, her wily lover, and her imposing husband? She had promised herself she would never do so again. But had she any other choice?
“If I’m not here by half past three, don’t wait for me,” Hannah said. “It means I’m not coming.”
From there, Hannah had walked directly to Trim Street. How stifling the air in that grim, narrow lane. No wonder the neighborhood was rumored to foster putrid fevers. Hannah’s stomach fisted at the thought.
She reached Mrs. Beech’s house and knocked on the door. The small hatch slid open, and Hannah met the familiar eyes of Mrs. Beech.
The woman snapped, “Who is it?”
Hannah pushed the coins through the opening and heard them clatter to the floor. “I shall have more. Soon.”
