She lifted the parchment and gently blew on it before carefully folding it into an envelope.Taking up the quill, she wrote “The Honorable Thomas Forster” on the outside and set it aside.
Pulling a hanky from her pocket, she dabbed at her cheek and let out the sob she had been attempting to stifle.
Now was not the time for tears.
Tonight she would have her answer.
One way or the other.
Her gaze darted to the window, and she hurried to look out on the gardens below.Her parents were lounging at a small metal table, her father’s head bent as he wrote of his latest findings in his journal.A sheet of parchment separate from his book displayed a drawing he had done of a hibiscus bloom, a nearby bush filled with the rose-red flowers.
At the other small table, Diana, Randy, Thomas, and David were playing a game of whist.The earl and countess were nowhere to be seen, but Helen knew Barbara wished to spend the afternoon shopping.
This was her chance.
She stepped out of her bedchamber and hurried to the other side of the hotel’s open courtyard, counting the doors until she reached the one she had seen Tom come out of that morning.Trying the handle, she was relieved when it easily opened.Once inside, she glanced about, nervous because she wasn’t sure where the best place would be to leave her note.
In the middle of the floor, as if it had been shoved under the door?Atop the bureau?On the bed?
She glanced at the small bed.Like hers, it was shoved against one wall and was surrounded by a fine netting that hung from the ceiling.The edges of the netting were draped open to show the bed had been made up by a servant.
After placing the letter on the middle of the pillow, Helen hurried out the door, carefully closing it behind her before she headed for the stairs.
She wasn’t aware she was being watched as she exited the hotel to join the others in the gardens.
