“Now, now, I won’t have any of that pleading. You are only lucky all the servants have risen and are attending to their tasks. Otherwise the whole house would have been woken by your racket.” She turned toward the door and nodded for someone to enter.
“Here’s some fresh-baked bread, butter and jam. I suspect you have not eaten since supper. You will eat, then knock to let Sabrine know you are finished. She will collect the dishes.”
Another, younger, woman entered with a tray. She avoided Rowena’s eyes and walked swiftly to the rickety table in the corner. The older woman gave a curt nod and turned to leave.
“Ma’am, please. Where am I? I–”
She swung around. “I have told you already, no pleading. Nobody will do you any harm. You are here for safekeeping, nothing more. Now, when you’ve finished eating, I’ll have Sabrine bring in a pitcher, a bowl, and a silver of lye soap so you can clean up.” She looked around the room and shook her head. “This is for your own good, Lady Rowena.” With that, the woman left. At the door, she turned and called out to the young maid, “Sabrine? What is taking so long?”
“Yes, Your G–”
“Sabrine!” the old lady hissed, silencing the girl who looked down at the ground and then rushed outside. For a moment, Rowena could see the hallway outside.
There was a window on the opposite end and through it, she could spot daylight. It was still tinged with the reminder of the night which had evidently just passed, but it was dawn. That she was certain of. She’d spent the entire night here. Before she could ask further questions, the door shut, and a key turned.
Who was this woman? The young girl had almost referred to her as Your Grace, hadn’t she? But that couldn’t be. Clearly, she was a housekeeper.
Rowena paced the room, unsure what to do next. The scent of the soup wavered through the room, tickling her nose. Her stomach began to grumble. Since she’d run away from home before dinner, all she’d eaten was a small supper the Countess of Totham had prepared for her. While it was fine food, she’d not felt like eating much.
No wonder my stomach is rumbling.
She went over to the small table and sat, picking up the soft, sweet-smelling bread. After the first bite, she found herself utterly relishing it, as she finished the entire serving. She used the rest of the bread to mop up the butter and jelly from their small dishes, something her mother would have frowned upon.
A small handkerchief was folded on the tray and she was about to pick it up when she realized something had been wrapped inside it. Her heart beat faster as she unwrapped it.
Perhaps a key to open the door? A note letting me know where I am?
She unrolled the handkerchief and found herself disappointed. It was not a key nor any hint as to her whereabouts. Inside the cloth were several pieces of candied fruit. She sighed and placed it in her mouth. The sweetness of the candy did cheer her for a moment, and she thanked whoever had placed it there.
Having finished her meal, she returned to the location of the jib-door. Running her fingers carefully along the wall, she soon felt its hinges under her fingertips. She found the door handle and pulled. Nothing. She pulled harder, yanking with all her might. When that failed, she threw herself against the door with her shoulder. It seemed to give only slightly for just a moment. Alas–
“My Lady, you must stop,” a young girl’s voice said from the other side.
“Let me out!” Rowena demanded.
“I cannot. You must know that I cannot. Are you finished with your meal?”
Rowena frowned. It was not the voice of the older woman. No, this voice was young. The maid, perhaps?
“I have.”
There was a short silence, then footsteps departed. A moment later, two sets of footsteps returned, and the door was unlocked. When it swung inwards, Rowena stepped back and found herself face to face with the young woman who’d brought her food. Behind her was a tall, bulky man who held the keychain previously worn by the housekeeper in his thick hand.
The young woman stepped inside and approached the small table.
“You must be Sabrine.”
The girl nodded as Rowena stepped closer to her.
“Did you like the candied fruit? I thought you’d like them,” the girl spoke quietly.
“I did. Thank you. I appreciate your kindness.” Rowena glanced at the bulky man. He stood in the doorframe, glaring at them.
“Can you tell me where I am?” The girl blinked as she picked up the tray. Regret was apparent on her face as she shook her head. She pushed past Rowena and exited the door.
To her surprise, the girl did not close the door but merely disappeared for a few moments, giving Rowena a chance to peek outside.
The hallways were lit with candles—tallow, not beeswax, furthering her belief that she was in the servant’s wing of whatever house she was in. Before she could ascertain anything further, the girl, Sabrine, returned.
