Dad had bullied her, threatened her and demanded she reporteverything about me to him in the minutest detail.
She was terrified of him, and she not only liked me, she’dbeen a lady’s maid for a while (in fact, her last “lady” had passed away, andher grief was exacerbating her reserve), thus she explained, “As you know, therelationship is sacrosanct.You don’t inform on your lady.Ever.I didn’t wantto do that to you, but I didn’t know how to deny him.”
So that explained that.
Next, when you only stop to attend the call of nature, havea quick cup of tea and a sandwich while the horses on your carriage were beingswitched out before you were on your way again, a three-day journey turned intoa day-and-a-half one.
Onward from that, I’d ridden in the more opulent carriage inwhich I went toPinkwickHouse, doing this withIdina.Ansley and Dad-not-Dad rode in the carriage behind, with two riders onhorses flanking them, probably as extra manpower so Edgar wouldn’t think to tryanything.
This meant I couldn’t pump Edgar, or Ansley for that matter,for information so I could continue to ride this wave that seemed to bebreaking my way.
However, Idina wandered off, as it was clear servants didn’thang with their “betters” when other “betters” were around (though, once she’dshared what had gone down with her and Dad-not-Dad, we’d had some lovelyconversations in the carriage, in between jostled bouts of trying to sleep,that was).
So, while I sipped tea and nibbled sandwiches, I spoke withAnsley.
Fortunately, he was figuring everything out (translation:fitting what he was learning to what he knew, even if most of it wasn’t true,and I didn’t enlighten him, which sucked, and felt like lying, because it was,and that wasn’t fun due to the fact he was a super cool guy).
This being, after Maxine had been injured, for whateverdastardly ends Edgar had (Ansley hadn’t figured that out yet), Mom and I hadbeen banished toFleuridiaand Edgar had faked Mom’sdeath.
Incidentally, she’d killed herself in her favorite gazebo bysitting in it and setting it afire.Now, either the woman was in such pain shewanted to make absolutely sure that pain ended (though, she did it in what hadto be an excruciatingly painful way), or she didn’t actually kill herself.
Truth be told, Edgar was such a dick, I had my suspicionsthat she didn’t.
In fact, I was putting things together too, and I had thefeeling the asshole killed her.
Ansley knew she didn’t, because we were racing to rescueher.
However, he now surmised her charred body wasnothers, and instead a cadaver, or some poor “street urchin” (his words) thatEdgar used in place of his wife.Taking this further (to myself, in reality, mythis-world mom was dead, and I didn’t like to think of that), since they didn’thave DNA or other such things they could test, it was easy for him to get awaywith something like that.
Considering I was banished inFleuridiawith my mother through all this, while Ansley ruminated on these things, Icould play dumb.
Sadly, we didn’t often stop to change horses, and when wewere stopped, we weren’t for long, so finding out my mom of this world burnedto death in her favorite gazebo was unwanted, but informative news.
It was also all I got.
Last, this time, unlike last time, when I wasn’t trying tosleep, or talking to Idina, I’d paid attention on the journey.
They didn’t have signs that announced village names, butthere were ways to find out (like the sign aboveSydawellMercantile, in what had to beSydawell).I also sawbakers, butchers and blacksmiths (obviously) and shingles out forthatchersand dressmakers and coopers.
Most everything was clean and sparkly and had a bent to amashup of Disney’s Fantasyland and an exceptionally conceived renaissancefestival.
It was fascinating and amazing to see.
But it looked like the good news was, I’d get one thingaccomplished, having Mom back and Maxine safe wherever she needed to be.
However, now that I could focus on it, my worry was that thebigger hurdle would be getting us back home.
Which meant I had to ponder the concept we’d have to figureout how to be there for a while until I could find a way home.
I was no baker, butcher, or dressmaker, and neither was Mom.
But I was the one out free in this world, so I had to dosome reconnaissance and at least know a little something about where we werestuck.
So I was thinking ahead, even if I couldn’t quite planahead.
Loren, by the by, took off while the servants were loadingthe trunks on the carriages back atPinkwickHouse.
He swung up on a big steed with a glossy, luxuriant browncoat and black shading along his nose and around his feet.He tipped his chinto me with a low, sexy, “Countess,” then dug his heels in his mount and tookoff, long cape flying behind him and everything.
