“It’s where I go to, at night, when I sneak away.”
“I wasn’t going ta say anything, me dear,” Mrs. Huckleberry said.
“I know you weren’t, and that’s why I’m telling you. Thank you for understanding.”
“We all have our problems in this life, me dear, and there’s no sense in judging others fer how they handle theirs.”
“Is there nothing we can do?” Mary’s hazel eyes searched Danielle’s face.
“Not much, I’m afraid,” Danielle replied.
“There’s always something, however small. You stay here.” Mrs. Huckleberry hefted herself up and hurried back down the stairs.
Mary took Mrs. Huckleberry’s seat and squeezed Danielle’s hand again. “I’m sorry about yer mum, Danielle.”
“It’s all right. Thank you for listening to me.”
“Me mum always says if ye want ta feel better, turn yer sights to some other topic.”
“It’s good advice.” Danielle managed a smile for the maid. “What shall we talk about?”
Mary turned to Danielle with a gamine grin. “I’m glad Mrs. Huck is gone fer the moment. I’ve been meaning ta ask ye about yer drink with Mr. Cavendish the other night.”
Danielle gasped. “You know about that?”
“With all me talk about Trevor I completely forgot ta ask about it when I came ta yer bedchamber. Don’t worry. Mrs. Huckleberry has me see ta the fires in the big rooms in the middle of the night. I’m the only one up, I swear. I heard ye two talking in the library and sneaked away. I promise I didn’t eavesdrop.”
Danielle laughed. “It’s all right. I believe you. If you had eavesdropped, you would have known that we had some wine and he told me about himself and his brother.”
Mary’s eyebrows shot up. “Wine? Do ye think he was trying ta get ye foxed ta have his way with ye?”
“Mary Hartfield, think what you’re saying.” Danielle couldn’t help but laugh at the girl’s obvious enjoyment of it though.
“Gor, I’d like that man ta get me foxed and have his way with me,” Mary said, still grinning.
Danielle shook her head. “He did say a few cheeky things.”
“He could be as cheeky as he pleased with me. Did he try ta steal a kiss?”
I wish. “I’ll leave that to your imagination.”
“Oy, I don’t know if ye should do that. My imagination is cheeky, too.” The maid paused for a moment. “Ye didn’t get foxed?”
“I’m afraid not. I’d have to drink a sight more than two glasses of wine to get foxed.”
Mary’s face scrunched up. “What da ye mean?” Then she gasped. “Ye’ve been drunk afore, mademoiselle?”
Danielle laughed again. “Yes, lots of times, I’m afraid.” With smugglers, drunkenness was a way of life.
“I suppose the French are more free with the wine than we are.”
“Oh, I’ve found that both countries love wine and spirits equally.”
Mary leaned forward and braced her hands on her knees. “What does it feel like ta get foxed?”
Danielle tilted her head to the side and contemplated that. “It feels like you haven’t got a care in the world. And everything is funny.”
“Funny?”
