No surprise. Due to the notorious window tax, many homes had windows that had been bricked up. A large portion of those bricked-up windows were located in the areas used by servants. Despite the wealth of many of the Peers of the Realm, they did not care to pay higher taxes so their servants could enjoy daylight. Her father had, in fact, bricked up several of the windows in their home as well. Rowena felt her heart flutter with fear.
As her eyes were beginning to get used to the darkness, she glanced around. Yes. These were servant quarters. The bed she had woken up on was narrow, the mattress thin. The blanket and pillow were of low quality, rough to the touch. A narrow armoire stood in the corner and a wash basin next to it. A small, unstable looking table sat in the corner of the room along with a chair.
Where is the door? It must be here somewhere. Why can I not find it?
She made her way along the wall, looking carefully for the door that would lead to her freedom. She could not find it.
She felt herself growing faint with the heat in the room. Without ventilation, be it window or door, the heat of the day lingered in the room long after the sun had set.
Or had it set? She was not sure what time it was at all. How long had she been asleep? Panic rose inside of her.
I must find the door. I must find my way out of this room.
She began to bang on the wall. “Hello? Help me! Please. Anybody? Can anyone hear me?”
She pressed an ear to the wall, listening carefully. There was nothing. No sound at all. Devastation and fear overtook her and she slid to the floor, tears springing into her eyes.
How long have I been here? I remember it was evening when I saw the cat and was then taken. When was that? How much time had passed?
She had no idea. The tallow candle was burning down toward the end. It would go out soon, then she’d be in darkness. She banged against the wall once more, calling out as loudly as she could. The fear of being swallowed by the dark consumed her.
“Please, please, help me!” she shouted out as loud as she could. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to force her breathing to slow.
Who could have taken her? Thornmouth? But to what end? Surely, he knew he could not force her into marriage. No. But who else? Someone who wanted money from her father?
The announcement of her impending union with the Duke of Thornmouth had enticed envy among some of theton. In fact, she knew it had. She’d seen the way some of the ladies at church had looked at her. Friendly on the outside, but they’d whispered behind her back.
Isaac Travers, Duke of Thornmouth was one of the most eligible bachelors in all of London, and one of the richest men in the country. Together with her father’s wealth, they would have been richer than any other family in England, save for the Prince Regent. That kind of wealth and power attracted envy. But kidnapping? And from the porch of the Earl of Totham? Who would have known she was there? Who could have figured it out?
Then it came to her, the obvious answer.
Father. It must have been Father. He must have sent one of his men to take me in. In an attempt to keep me from running away with Christopher.
She looked up. Anger had replaced the panic and she crumpled her nose.
“I am not going to give up on Christopher, Father! He will come for me. He will. I am never going to marry Thornmouth.” She kicked against the wall with all her might.
“Ow!” she yelped and hopped on one foot.She leaned against the bed, holding one foot in the air when suddenly, light streamed into the room.
“Cut out the racket! How’s anyone supposed to sleep through that noise?”
A woman’s voice called out and a moment later, a figure stepped into the dark room.
Chapter 29
Christopher felt his excitement rise as they approached his uncle’s house early the following morning. The sun had just risen, drenching the city in a glow that seemed to match the positivity he was feeling.
“I cannot believe my dearest Rowena was about to rush off to Gretna Green without me.” The young woman smiled.
Christopher was glad to see her recovering so quickly, for when they had first entered the carriage after making their escape, her condition had been worrisome.
The ordeal had indeed left her shaken and scared. However, the presence of Christopher and Henry had soon soothed her.
“Well, once you have relayed your experience with the Duke of Thornmouth, and Lord Portsmouth to Rowena’s parents, I will be in good hopes that an escape to Gretna Green will not be needed anymore.”
“I should hope not,” the young woman sounded defiant. “Not after the Duke all but denied me shelter and assistance. Not only did he not help me, he sent me back to that terrible man. If you had not come, who knows what would have happened to me. The Viscount…” her voice trailed off. She had only hinted at her experience at the Portsmouth residence.
Going into more detail would have been unacceptable, at least in front of two virtual strangers. However, having heard other stories, Christopher could only imagine.
