“Oh my!” Lena’s hand flew to her mouth.
“The aftermath was chaotic, and all my possessions burned,” Annabel wheezed, “that’s why I came here for help. I walked all the way.”
“You poor dear.” Lena put down the teacup and picked up a bowl of broth. “You’re safe now. But you must take some broth before you rest so as to build your strength.” She spooned some into Annabel’s mouth.
Annabel ignored the pain it took to swallow. She had to get well and quickly so that she could help Henry.
“How long have I been here?” She asked between spoonfuls of soup.
“Three days and two nights.” Lena put down the near-empty bowl of broth. “But you’re not strong enough yet. The doctor said you require a lot of rest.”
“No,” Annabel caught Lena’s arm. “I need to speak with Mrs. Bastin,” she rasped. “It’s urgent.”
“She’s not here. None of the family are. They’re in London on account of Lord Hudsyn’s trial.”
Annabel felt her eyes widen.
“You must have read about it in the newspapers.” Lena’s face crumpled, and her eyes welled up with tears. “It’s been awful. Poor Mrs. Bastin. Her cousin is so dear to her.”
“He’s not guilty,” Annabel pushed herself up higher on the pillows.
“Of course, he isn’t! None of us believe he’s guilty.” The maid burst into tears. “I just don’t know what Mrs. Bastin is going to do. The stress will certainly kill her unborn babe, and it might even kill her too.”
“It’s okay, Lena. Lord Hudsyn is innocent. I am living proof that he didn’t murder anyone,” Annabel asserted.
“You can’t. No one can. It’s too late.” Lena took a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her eyes.
“What do you mean, too late?”
“He’s been found guilty and is sentenced to hang any day now.”
A heavy weight landed on Annabel’s chest and squeezed the air from her lungs. “How? What proof do they have?”
“An eyewitness who saw Miss Leonard climb inside his carriage during the early hours of 28 July.”
“What? Who?”
“A fishmonger who’d lost his way while in London.”
“A fishmonger?” The hair on Annabel’s neck stood on end. “Was it a Mr. Trawler? Tall man, thick shoulders, tanned, with a healthy head of brown curls?”
“I dunno.” Lena shook her head. “All I know is it’s too late.” Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. “Poor Mrs. Bastin and little Alice,” Lena said. “A dark cloud has settled over this house, and it will never be the same again.”
The room grew unbearably cold. Annabel’s body trembled.
It can’t be. That must be what Nate was keeping me from. How treacherous! But I won’t let Henry die. I’ve got to get to London today.
“Lena!” Annabel grabbed the maid’s hand. “Listen to me. I know a way to save Lord Hudsyn from the gallows, but I’ll need your help.”
“What can I do?” The maidservant drew back.
“I’ll need you to give me Mr. and Mrs. Bastin’s address in London.”
“You can’t! The doctor—”
“Never mind the doctor, Lena! A man’s life is at stake here.”
Lena wrung her hands and blinked as if doing so helped to clear her mind. Then she nodded.
