She had a pitcher of water with her, along with a wash ball and basin, just as the older woman had promised.
“Please, I am ever so scared. Tell me where I am,” Rowena pleaded.
The young girl’s face flinched as she put down the pitcher.
“It’s not warm, I’m sorry to say. But you will soon find the comforts you are used to again. Including a much nicer bed, I promise you. This is only temporary.” She placed two more tallow candles on the table. “For when yours goes out.”
“Sabrine!” the man outside the door hollered at her. Quickly the girl made her way out of the room, giving Rowena one last, sad glance as the door shut behind her.
* * *
Rowena was laying on the small bed, her eyes toward the ceiling. She didn’t know how much time had passed since she’d used the wash ball to clean herself. With nothing to do, she’d simply laid down on the bed. There was no way she could escape, no way she could figure out where she was.
She’d already searched the armoire and the small table for any evidence, anything that might point her to where she was being kept. If it was truly her father that was the one keeping her here.
Suddenly, a tapping sound at the door roused her attention.
“My Lady–” a voice came through the door, hardly above a whisper.
She rolled out of bed and rushed to the door, pressing her head against it.
“I am here. Sabrine?”
“It is I, My Lady. I cannot remain long.”
Her heart beat faster at this sudden ray of hope.
“Can you let me out? I promise I won’t tell anyone it was you.”
There was a moment of silence and then the girl sighed.
“I cannot. Only three of us know you are here, and Thomas would never defy the Duchess’s orders. They’d know it was me.”
The Duchess. Was she talking about the older woman from earlier? The one she had thought of as the housekeeper?
“Duchess? Who is the Duchess? The woman from earlier today?”
“Aye, it is she.”
Rowena considered this and tried to think of which elderly Dukes her father was friendly with, and who might have offered their home for her keeping.
“Where am I, Sabrine?”
“The Duchess’s old chamber. Once upon a time, this was her room, when she was a young woman, when her husband was still alive. Now it’s servant quarters,” the girl replied. Rowena wasn’t sure if she was being evasive on purpose or if she had not understood what she meant. At least it explained the existence of a jib door.
“But whose house is this? Who is your master? Why am I here?”
The girl sighed. Even though Rowena could not see her, she knew the young girl was wrestling with what to do.
“Was it my Father who brought me here? The Earl of Hazelshire?”
This elicited an immediate reply.
“Heaven forefend, My Lady. I cannot tell you. I can only say you are here to be kept safe. That is all I know. Please, if you can only be patient and just stay quiet, this will all be over really soon. In the meantime, I’ll make sure you have enough candles and–”
“No, please. You don’t understand. I have to get out. I am to be married and my friend…” she thought of Betsy and wondered if she was safe, if Christopher had succeeded in rescuing her. “My friend is returning from a bad situation at her employers today. She’s been in so much danger and I must ensure she is safe and given shelter by my parents. She’s being returned from Bedfordshire this morning.”
“From Bedfordshire?” There was something in the girl’s voice, alarm perhaps. Fright.
