‘Patience.’
Lolly grinned as the door slowly began to open. ‘Bloody Patience, that’s a lark. You’ll not find much o’ that ‘ere, that’s fer sure.’
The rest of the day passed in much the same way as it began. There seemed to be endless chores. Polishing, scrubbing and sweeping. They were taken upstairs by a small servants’ staircase which effectively prevented Patience from getting any idea of the lay of the house. When they’d finished indoors, they moved outside to weed the enormous garden. As she dug around in the dirt, Patience kept an eye out for Felicity’s cousin, but mayhap the day was too cold as she didn’t appear.
Supper was exactly the same as breakfast and was served as the sun began to set. As she hobbled back towards the house, Patience could hardly walk and felt as though she’d been run over by a carriage. This time there was a single bowl of water between the five of them to wash in, and by the time Patience got her turn, the liquid was a dark brown.
There were no mirrors, and Patience was sure that all she’d done was smear the dirt around her face and neck. After supper, they were herded back to change into their grimy shifts, hanging their brown dresses back into the wardrobe. Patience couldn’t help but wince at the smell already lingering around the armpits.
‘Do they ever allow us to change our clothes or have a bath?’ she whispered to Kate. The maid nodded her head. ‘Clothes once a sennight and a bath when they can’t stand the stench of us any longer.’
Lying back in her bed, Patience tried to come up with some kind of plan, but her weary body wouldn’t let her. Finally, she simply lay there, staring into the dark, allowing the tears to run unheeded down her cheeks until exhaustion took her, and she fell into a fitful sleep.
Despite her fatigue Patience woke well before dawn the next morning and though no longer restrained, she might as well have been for all the movement her body was capable of. Groaning softly, she managed to shift onto her side. The soft snores of her companions indicated she was the only one awake. They seemed to have long since accepted their fate. How long before she was exactly the same?
Never. She had a family who cared about her. They would leave no stone unturned in an effort to find her, of that Patience was certain. But would they guess that Bamford had taken her? Or would they believe her dead in a ditch somewhere? Mayhap they’d think she’d simply run away. She shied away from such imaginings. That way lay madness and despair.
She couldn’t afford to wait in the hope she’d be rescued. She needed to come up with a plan of escape. She didn’t have any of her lock picks with her, but a small thin object if she could find one would suffice. She would have to wait until dark, but once they were locked in their bedchamber, hopefully they would no longer be constantly watched. She thought back to Bamford’s wife Edith. Was there any way she could take the lady with her? Or for that matter, any of the others?
Six of them attempting to escape would be a lot riskier than if she fled by herself. But what would happen to the others if she left them to their fate? Mayhap she could simply seek help in the first instance and return with Nicholas, Adam and Malcolm for the others. She shied away from wondering whether the Marquess was part of the search party she knew would be looking for her. Or whether Guildford even knew she was missing.
Patience’s thoughts went round and round, and by the time the door at the end of the bedchamber opened, she felt as though she hadn’t slept at all. Climbing out of bed with a groan, she shuffled to the back of the line. She would give herself three days, she decided, to find a substitute lock pick and locate a suitable escape route. She would keep the plan to herself until the last minute. Then, if any of the others chose to, they could come with her. As for Lady Edith, Patience knew that three days would not be enough to persuade Bamford’s wife to flee with her. She would simply have to convince her brothers-in-law to return for Felicity’s cousin before the Earl had a chance to spirit her away to another location.
As they moved past Cavendish, the giant stopped her as he had the day before. Heart thumping, Patience stared up into his face. This time he was grinning, his teeth showing black and crooked. ‘Got you a visitor this evenin’ miss,’ he chortled, ‘so you’ll be gettin’ a bath. ‘Is lordship don’ like ‘is lace mutton smellin’ like a bloody privy.’ He winked at the horror in Patience’s face before giving a loud guffaw and adding, ‘Jus’ thought I’d give yer summat to look forward to while yer scrubbin’ the floors.’ He laughed again as Patience made a choking sound and pulled herself free.
She didn’t have three days. She didn’t even have one. Forcing down a sob, she hurried after the line of women disappearing down the corridor.
Somehow, she had to find a lock pick and escape this hellish place before the Earl of Bamford arrived to violate her.
∞∞∞
Max sent both Shackleford girls ahead to alert Nicholas and Malcolm. They would be able to navigate the twisting streets much quicker than the cumbersome carriage, and hopefully the two men would be ready and waiting by the time the coach pulled up outside the townhouse. Running his hands through his hair anxiously, Max went over his conversation with Adam. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed to agree to Adam’s request, even though he knew the Earl’s reasoning was sound.
Before Max realised it, the carriage was turning into the crescent. To his overwhelming relief, both Nicholas and Malcolm were waiting, though his heart sank a little as he spied the portly figure of Reverend Shackleford standing in the shadows. Glancing round, he could see no sign of the foxhound, and he was grateful for that at least. Being enclosed in a carriage with three large men and a none too sweet-smelling dog would not have been pleasant, even though Freddy’s nose might have been useful. ‘Tare an’ hounds,’ the clergyman muttered as he climbed into the carriage, ‘one of these days I’ll get to finish a deuced brandy in peace.’ Nicholas and Malcolm jumped in quickly behind him. Fortunately, the driver was one of the Duke’s and knew of Patience’s abduction, so he didn’t flinch when Nicholas told him of their direction and ordered him not to spare the horses. Indeed, the coach was moving before his grace had even had time to shut the door.
As they careered out into the main road, Malcolm handed the Marquess a small package. Frowning, Max unwrapped it and stared down at the double-barrelled flintlock pistol. ‘I assume you know how to use it?’ questioned Malcolm grimly. Max nodded, laying the heavy weapon carefully on the seat beside him.
‘Is that really necessary?’ the Reverend asked with a grimace.
‘Let us hope not,’ was the Duke’s grim response, ‘but I don’t believe a man such as Bamford is likely to adhere to the rules of fair play.’
They finally left behind the outskirts of Bath just as the sun was beginning its descent. Fortunately, the hour was not too late, so the driver didn’t need any lanterns to avoid the perilous potholes.
The four men sat silent and tense, glancing frequently out of the windows for any sign of Adam. Without his guidance they could end up in deuced London. Half an hour went by with no sighting of the Earl, until finally, Nicholas leaned forward, about to suggest they turn round. Soon their carriage would be approaching the village of Box and the Duke didn’t think Bamford would have a private asylum in the middle of a bustling community.
Before he had chance to speak however, Max frowned squinting. ‘I see a horse ahead of us,’ he declared. The other two men peered through the windows and sure enough a cloud of dust heralded the approach of a horse and rider.
‘He’s riding damn quickly,’ Nicholas observed, hope clearly evident in his voice.
‘I ken it’s Adam, added Malcolm. ‘Who else would be galloping like he’s being chased by the devil himself?’
Sure enough, mere minutes later, the carriage slowed as Adam pulled up on Merlin, the stallion pawing and stamping, his breath steaming in the evening air.
‘It’s about three miles from here,’ the Earl shouted. ‘There’s a turning a few hundred yards to the right.’ He turned to the coachman. ‘The track is rutted and narrow,’ he warned. ‘Taking a coach and four down it will be a challenge.’ The driver nodded, confident he was skilled enough for the task. Turning back to the coach’s occupants, Adam continued.
‘The track opens up into a near circle not far from the entrance to the house, I suggest we leave the horses and carriage there and proceed on foot.’ Without waiting for an answer, he wheeled round and cantered back up the road, not bothering to check if the carriage was following.
‘This is it gentlemen,’ Nicholas observed tightly. ‘I have no idea what or who we are likely to find inside, but I pray that Patience is among them.’
