The loss of her dress would be difficult to explain since she only had three, each of them in the same blue fabric her aunt said wore well. All the female servants were attired in the same serviceable blue serge, a fact that hadn’t escaped her. She could always say she’d ruined the dress with a stain. Her aunt would fuss about the expense, as well as question why she hadn’t at least torn the dress into rags.
How did she explain losing her only pair of shoes?
“Are you hesitating because you’re afraid you’ll be discovered?” he asked.
She turned, startled to see that he’d left the carriage behind her.
He was an arresting figure, a tall man with a subtle elegance, almost a predatory intensity. Caution made her take a step back.
“Did you kill him?”
His smile was razor thin.
“So, you do remember.”
“A shot,” she said. “Did you shoot him?”
“No, even though he deserved shooting. The ceiling was the only casualty.”
The night was utterly still and softly beautiful. The only sounds were the horses restlessly stamping their feet. The fog was thick, changing the street lamps to small moons. The slightly sulfurous odor stung her nose and caught at the back of her throat, reminding her that her stomach was still in rebellion.
The robe was thin and the spring air damp and cold. She needed to be on her way, but she clutched her hands together, took a deep breath, and turned to face him.
“Itisenchanted, you know,” she said.
“What is? The mirror?” Impatiently, he glanced over his shoulder at the carriage.
“Would you give it to me?” she asked. “It’s all too clear you don’t want it.”
“It’s not mine,” he said. “It was delivered to my doorstep in a trunk containing women’s clothing. Evidently, it belongs to the previous owner of the house I purchased.”
“Will you return it?”
“If I knew her whereabouts, I would.” He folded his arms and studied her. “Why?”
“If you gave it to me,” she said, “I’d attempt to find the rightful owner.”
“Would you?”
She nodded.
“Your sudden interest in the mirror has nothing to do with its being gold or the diamonds around it, would it?”
“No,” she said, surprised and a little insulted.
“Then why do you want it?”
She could tell him. If she did, he would label her even more strange than he already thought her. Who truly cared if she was eccentric or slightly dotty? As a poor relation, she’d have no substance. She’d be a shadow in the corner, an afterthought. “Oh yes, that’s Veronica, she’s lived with us for ages. Has no money of her own, poor thing. A charity case, you know.”
The mirror had given her the first taste of hope she’d felt in a very long time.
“I would attempt to find the rightful owner. Truly.”
“No.”
She considered arguing with him but suspected that this man, once he’d made a decision, could not be moved.
“Thank you,” she said again, turning to leave him. “For rescuing me.”
