“But...must you leavenow? It’ll be dark soon...”
Dorothea smiled. “How kind you are, Maria. But no need to concern yourself. I have told Mama and Randolph of my plans, and they have agreed. Ordinarily, they would have sent for the Renslow steamsled, but with Papa out of town, Randolph suggested we keep that one available for Mama. You know how many times we’ve taken one together, so you have no need to worry at all. Three short levels and I’m there.”
“You don’t want me to come too?” Maria’s voice betrayed her shock.
“I would love it, of course, but at this time, Amelia’s house is full to the brim with her family’s guests and their servants. And it’ll only be for a night or two.” She hugged the girl. “I shall miss you, Maria. But Amelia’s maid can easily do for two of us.”
“I remember Susan,” nodded Maria. “She’s very nice.”
“So there it is,” Dorothea stood. “If you’ll help me fold my things, I’ll put them in my portmanteau.”
“Of course, Miss,” Maria immediately began to sort, smooth, and fold her mistress’s garments.
The slightly battered grey portmanteau showed signs of some wear, which Dorothea thought was a rather fortunate thing, since nobody would pay much attention to a young woman carrying a well-used bag.
Her mind catalogued the clothing items she’d taken from her wardrobe and bureau, making sure that everything she anticipated needing was disappearing inside the grey leather case.
When the last few things remained, Dorothea straightened and turned to Maria.
“Dear girl, would you be so kind as to make me a cup of tea? And perhaps some of those lovely little plum pudding cakes that I could smell this afternoon?”
“Of course, Miss,” smiled Maria. “It’ll take me a while, since the kitchen is preparing for dinner, and Lord Randolph is expecting some guests. You know how that puts Cook into a panic.”
“I do indeed. Don’t rush. I expect dinner will be held back a little anyway. My brother does like to talk at length. Even with his friends.” She sighed.
“Very well then, Miss. I’ll put your portmanteau here by the door, so when you’re ready, just ring the bell and I’ll have one of the footmen come up and collect it for you.”
“Excellent,” smiled Dorothea. “What would I do without you?” She put her arm around her maid’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “Thank you, dear Maria. You are truly a wonderful help to me.”
“Aww, Miss, go on with you,” blushed the maid. “Now you finish up and make sure you’ve packed everything you need? Although I know you can always have things sent over if you find you need something.”
“That’s right. I can indeed.” She sighed. “Off with you, then. And I’ll find my bonnet.”
At last, after what seemed like at least a twelvemonth, Dorothea was alone.
Without hesitation, she pulled out her oldest boots, knowing they were comfortable, warm, and could withstand quite a bit of abuse.
Since her simple and slightly out-of-fashion walking gown easily accommodated her greatcoat, she shrugged it on, fastened it, and reached for the matching bonnet, which she tied securely beneath her chin.
Catching a glimpse of herself in the piers glass, Dorothea was relatively satisfied at her appearance. Her clothing was unobtrusive, clean but clearly not in the latest style, and her bonnet had seen better days. She looked exactly the way she wanted and hoped she would pass as an upper-class servant or the daughter of a middle-class household.
Holding her breath, she opened her door onto an empty corridor. Offering a quick prayer to St. Virellus, asking that he keep his lightning and his sparks away from her path this night, Dorothea walked silently along the corridors of Renslow House, down one of the many back staircases, and finally out into the icy cold night.
There were no stables here, just one or two velocipods. The Renslow steamsleds were tucked away in the large garage against the chance of snow, which circumstance also happened to render the entire area devoid of life. No servants or drivers lolled around waiting for orders, they were most likely tucked up by the fire in their quarters behind the garage.
All was exactly as Dorothea had hoped.
Taking a deep breath of the crisp evening air, she carefully picked her way down the huge steel staircase, through the lowerlevels of Renslow House, past the basement and the servant’s quarters, and finally out onto the hard surface of the sledway, where the colourful lights spread their holiday cheer down onto a smooth iron road.
A shiver of excitement travelled down her spine as she realised she was finally, absolutely, and undeniably alone.
She stood for a few minutes, absorbing the silence, aware that for the first time in her life, she was free, independent, able to make her own decisions.
The distant clang of a bell caught her attention, and she turned to see the lights of an oncoming aethercoach.
This was it.
Dorothea pulled her steamstamp from her pocket, running her thumb over the engraved “R” that signified her family’s credit account. Would it be traceable? Probably, but not immediately. By the time anyone thought to explore its usage, it would be too late.
