“Come,” the leader said. He backed from the room, not turning away from her until he reached the safety of his throng of men.
The one holding her chain gave a tug. He led her into the hall, where the others backed away. After she passed, they followed. The steps took them to a basement, in the center of which stood a table littered with cards. All around the walls, pallets cluttered the room. The odors of stale sweat and boiled cabbage gagged her.
“Blindfold her,” the leader said.
Someone behind Madelina wrapped a cloth about her face and tied it tight. They led her through a doorway and down a hall, then up another set of steps. Fresher air met her seeking nostrils. Another hall and another door and a welcome, cool breeze. They pushed her up carriage steps and one of them put a hand on her head to ensure she ducked low enough not to strike the roof.
They pressed her into a seat, a man on each side of her. More crowded in opposite. The carriage sank with each addition. Several more clambered up to ride on top. She hoped they had a strong team. With a lurch, the carriage started forward.
“Where are we going?” she ventured.
“The madam wants you,” the spokesman repeated.
Madelina suspected that’s all they were told to say, and so didn’t press. She concentrated instead on the sounds without. A lessening of jostling, creaking springs suggested better maintained roads in a more prosperous part of town.
Finally, the coach stopped, and the door opened. They ushered her out and down what had the smell and damp, closed feel of a space rarely touched by the sun. An alley. The man holding her chain tugged repeatedly. She had the impression they very much didn’t wish to be observed.
They entered a building through what, based on the mouthwatering, gut twisting aromas of rising bread and brewing tea, must be the kitchen door. A steep, narrow set of steps took them up and through a doorway. They led her down a hall, plush carpet thick under her slippers. She hoped she left dirty, sooty tracks. Finally, they paused and then filed through a doorway.
“Good Heavens,” Miss White cried. “Has she been writing with the charcoal or rolling in it?”
Madelina smiled. They hadn’t told Miss White about the fire.
“You two, stay here,” Miss White went on. “The rest of you, in the hall. Do not leave the hallway. I know she doesn’t look like much, but she’s dangerous.”
“Yes, Madam,” a chorus of male voices replied. Booted feet tromped out.
Lighter footsteps approached. “It’s a good thing I thought to have a bath drawn and a gown brought,” Miss White said.
Madelina’s blindfold was yanked free. Miss White stood before her in the fluffy pastel dress with which she’d taunted Madelina. Her auburn tresses were arranged in perfect, shiny ringlets. She wore only a hint of face paint, not her usual garish coating.
Miss White stepped back, blindfold dangling in one hand. “Do you like the effect?” Smiling, she pivoted against the backdrop of a sumptuous, ivory and silk clad, windowless room. “More importantly, do you think Jasper will like it?”
Madelina eyed her. Even manacled and shackled, she could probably throttle the life from Miss White’s bright eyes.
“Keep a good hold on that chain,” Miss White addressed someone over Madelina’s shoulder before turning back to her. “We must work on your ability to bluff, dear. I would have had you unchained if you’d appeared properly cowed.”
Madelina maintained her stare.
Miss White shrugged. “Be that way. It matters little to me. What does matter is that we get you cleaned up. Or, rather, that you get yourself cleaned up. I wouldn’t trust you with a maid.”
The door through which they’d entered stood behind Madelina. Another interrupted the wainscoting to her right. Behind Miss White stood an oversized fireplace. If servants’ doors hid in the molding, Madelina couldn’t readily pick them out.
“Ah, yes, the bathing chamber,” Miss White said, nodding to the second door. “Here is what shall happen. You are going to be escorted to the door and unchained. You will go inside or be shot. Within, you’ll find a tub and clothing.
“In an hour, you will be let out of the bathing room and rechained,” Miss White continued. “Then taken out onto a balcony with a lovely view. If you resist, you will be shot. If you attempt to escape, you will be shot.” A hard smile curved her lips. “In truth, I’m hoping you give my men a reason, any reason, to kill you. I enjoy permanent solutions. It’s something Aubrey taught me. Now, my dear, are we clear?”
Madelina stared at a point over Miss White’s left shoulder.
“I’m afraid I’m going to insist on a reply this time, dear,” Miss White said in a sweet, mild voice.
“Yes, Madam,” Madelina infused all the mockery she could into that title.
Miss White frowned. Lips pressed into an unhappy knot, she turned to one of the men behind Madelina. “Call in the others.”
The door opened and men tromped in. Madelina didn’t try to turn. She’d no intention of resisting being put into this so-called bathing room.
Miss White moved near. Smile sweet once more, she ran the back of her hand down Madelina’s cheek. “By noon today, I’ll be Missus Mclintock, before all our guests and in the eyes of God.” Glee bright on her face, she added, “Have a nice bath, dear,” before stepping away. She pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her hand. Then, addressing the men, said, “Be ready to shoot if she tries to escape.”
