“Of course,” I said, “I’d love to stay in touch.”
She smiled at me again. It was the oddest thing, but I felt her slip a second piece of paper into my other hand as she hugged me again. “Keep this safe,” she whispered into my ear before pulling back and speaking in a normal tone of voice again. “I look forward to hearing from you.”
Her eyes stayed on mine for several seconds, and I nodded, understanding filling me.
Aunt Matilda came to stand at my side. She waited until the carriage had driven away before turning to me and holding out her hand. I knew what she wanted and gave her the piece of paper Caroline had given me with Kendrick’s address.
“You won’t be needing that,” she said. “It is best that you distance yourself from those ruffians who parade about town as if they were gentlemen.”
“Yes, Aunt Matilda,” I said, following her meekly into the house.
“I’m going back upstairs. I am most put out that I’ve been dragged out of bed for this nonsense.”
I said nothing and waited for her to disappear upstairs. When she was out of sight, I hurried down the hallway to the servants’ stairs and made my way quietly up to my room. I closed the door behind me and stood there for a full minute. I had no lock on my bedchamber door, and my aunt was inclined to burst into my room at the most unexpected times. If she’d heard me come upstairs, she would be coming in to demand why I was wasting time instead of being productive with my needlework.
Another minute passed before I found the courage to open my left palm and stare at the small square of paper resting there.
Fear filled me. Had Caroline lied about being happy? I couldn’t believe Kendrick would hurt her. And if she needed help, surely she would have gone to her aunt. There was next to nothing I could do to help her.
I leaned back against the door and unfolded the paper. I took a deep breath and began to read.
I was entrusted with the task of giving you this note. LC needs to speak with you. I urge you to do what you can to slip out of the house tonight. A carriage will be waiting for you down the street in front of number 10 after 10 o’clock.
* * *
Burn this note.
* * *
With much love, C.
I read the note three times, my heartbeat drumming in my ears, before the urgency of the situation struck me. LC could only be Lord Clifton. She wouldn’t have written his name in case the note was intercepted, but surely it was him.
I rushed to my bedside table, where a candle waited in its holder. I lit it with one of the matches I’d set aside for that task, only fumbling once, then hurried over to the fireplace with the candle and note. I read it one more time before holding the corner of the note to the candle.
When the paper caught flame, I placed it in the fireplace and watched the flame engulf the page.
Determination settled over me. The note could only refer to Clifton, and I was going to do everything in my power to meet him.
CHAPTER 8
DIANA
After all evidence of the secret note was gone, I made my way downstairs again via the servants stairs and resumed my needlepoint so Aunt Matilda wouldn’t become suspicious. I tried to avoid glancing at the clock but somehow found myself watching the day drag by in five-minute increments.
I could think of nothing except tonight’s meeting. Clifton had already given me his condolences on my mother’s death, so why would he want to speak to me? Finally, I concluded that he must have a letter for me from his mother. I’d wondered if my aunt was hiding any correspondence I might be receiving. That suspicion was confirmed when she’d taken Caroline’s note with her address.
Relief filled me when a maid informed me that a tray would be sent up to my room. Apparently, Aunt Matilda had a headache that had been brought about by the stress of preparing to leave London. After Caroline had left, I’d only seen my aunt for a half hour as she handed out orders for the staff to take care of the details. The process didn’t seem particularly stressful to me, but I wouldn’t complain since it meant she hadn’t been watching over me all day.
When I’d finished the simple meal and the tray had been taken away, I began to pace. It was already dark outside, but I needed to wait another hour before I could escape from the house.
I lay across the bed, closed my eyes, and willed my nerves to settle.
Finally, it was time to act. My uncle always returned after midnight, so I didn’t fear running into him. As for my aunt, I didn’t know whether her headaches were fact or fiction, but I rarely saw her once she’d announced she was suffering from one. She would remain in her room until tomorrow.
I reached for the plain cloak Aunt Matilda had ordered for me. At the time, I’d been upset by the dark, practical wool garment, but it would be perfect for tonight’s outing. If I raised the hood, I would be indistinguishable from a servant going about their business. Cloaks were not commonly worn in late July, but it had been cloudy all day, and there was a dampness in the air that threatened rain. No one would be surprised to see a servant wearing a cloak tonight.
I folded the garment into a small square of fabric and hid it in my needlework basket underneath my embroidery. The basket was fuller than normal, but no one would look past the embroidered fabric resting on top. Slowly, I made my way down the servants stairs to the garden doors at the back of the house.
