“Yes, she was working for the Viscount Portsmouth and–”
“Ohh, that louse,” the girls voice rose to be much louder than Rowena knew otherwise.
“You know him, then?”
“I do. I worked for him. Terrible cad he is. I fell for his charms, silly girl that I am.” The regret in her voice was evident. “Then he made me leave when…” she paused and then cleared her throat. “It does not matter. He is terrible person. If you friend worked for him, then I hope she made a quick escape.”
“She is at present, or so I believe. I must be let out of here to make sure she is safe.”
There was a silence between the two before Rowena picked the conservations up again, in the same hushed tones.
“Sabrine, can you really not help me? Can you not–”
The girl sighed. “I’ve come to comfort you, and to reassure you. But that is all I can do. I cannot let you out. I…I owe the Duchess so much. She took me in when nobody else would have. She and her son. I owe them. I must remain loyal. But fear not. You will be treated well. I promise you that.”
Rowena scratched her chin and sighed.
What does she mean, she owes them? Nobody else would help her?
Then it came to her. The rumors she heard theon dit, about a maid of Lord Portsmouth’s who was with child. Could this be her?
Gently, Rowena spoke once more. “I heard there was a maid that worked for Lord Portsmouth who found herself in an awkward position not too long ago.”
A sob came from the other side of the door. It was all the answer she needed.
“I thought he cared for me, that he would help me raise our child and…he was a cad. And I a fool. I made a cake out of myself and nearly mucked up my life if not for the Duchess and His Grace. The Duchess, foremost. They helped me and the child–” Once again, she stopped speaking, but what she’d said was enough.
His Grace. Her employer was a Duke, with a living mother, who was connected to Lord Portsmouth enough to know when he was in a bad situation. Someone who would know of a maid in such a condition. Could it be? It had to be. Her first suspicion had been right. It hadn’t been her father who locked her in here.
“This is the Duke of Thornmouth’s home is it not? And the woman? She is his Mother? The Dowager Duchess of Thornmouth? I am right, am I not?”
The girl cried quietly. Then, after a short while, she whispered. “Yes, indeed. This is Easton House. But please, do not tell them I told you I–”
“You must let me out. Please. You do not know what it will mean for me to remain here. I must return home. If I do not, and if I do not support Betsy, the Duke will give testimony against her. He was meant to help her escape Portsmouth, and he did not. In fact, he sent her right back there. He will never admit this to my Father, however. And my parents might not believe Betsy over a Duke. Not unless I am there to support her–”
“Surely they will believe her. Surely there will be somebody else who can vouch for her.”
Christopher. Rowena thought of him and Henry. But then, would her parents take their word over that of their future son-in-law? A man whom they admired, revered even? There was Margaret, but she had gone into her confinement the previous week and was struggling greatly with the pregnancy. She could not do anything in her current state. The physicians were shielding her from stress with great care.
“I must support her. It must be me. There is nobody else,” she hesitated. “If you let me go, I will ensure that you are taken care of. Please, I promise you. Surely you know who my Father is. He will make sure you are well rewarded for helping his daughter.”
She closed her eyes, wishing with all her might that the girl would relent, that she would believe her.
Then, a moment later, she heard a key being placed in the lock. A weight fell off her chest at the sound of the key turning in the lock. When the door swung open inwards, she looked at the girl in front of her.
Faith, she cannot be more than nine-and-ten years old. Just a little older than Catherine.
Her heart went out to the girl. She wrapped her arms around her in elation.
“Thank you, thank you. You have saved me and I–”
“There is no time for any of this. Come, quickly. You must go before–”
“Sabrine!” A voice hollered from across the hallway. They both turned in unison and to her shock, she saw the burly man from earlier, Thomas, standing there. His face was a mask of fury and before she had time to take in any of his features, he broke into a run.
“Down the stairs, My Lady and to the right,” Sabrine said as Rowena took off running.
She made it down the first set of stairs to a landing, disoriented by the strange surroundings. The man rushed down the steps behind her and was closing in on her quickly.
