Page 63 of His Sinful Touch

“Excuse me, miss.” Sabrina walked up to her.

The woman glanced at her in surprise, her eyes swiftly taking in Sabrina’s attire. “Are you speaking to me?”

“Yes. I was wondering if this was where one caught an omnibus.”

“Yes,” the woman said coolly and turned back to look up the street.

Sabrina felt a spurt of resentment. One would think the woman could have shown a bit of graciousness toward a fellow workingwoman despite the fact that Sabrina was dressed like someone lower down the social ladder than she. As much to annoy the woman as because she wanted to know, Sabrina said, speaking to her shoulder, “I was wondering which one to take to get to Paddington Station.”

“I’m sure I don’t know” was all the other woman said, giving her a dismissive glance.

“I’ll show you, sweetheart,” a man said beside her. She looked at him. He was sharply dressed, with a diamond pin twinkling in the folds of his ascot, and he smiled at her in a way that was entirely too familiar. “Just come with me, and...”

“Get on with ya, mister.” An older woman wedged her way in between them, scowling at the man. “I know what you’re wantin’, and it ain’t to help a girl.”

“Thank you,” Sabrina murmured.

“Just up from the country, ain’t ya?” The woman shook her head and sighed. “Too pretty by half to be wanderin’ about so innocent.” She turned to shoot a glare at the man who had spoken to Sabrina, but he had moved away and was studiously ignoring them.

“Yes, I’m new to London.” Sabrina knew her manner of speech didn’t match her disguise, but there was nothing she could do to change that. If she tried to imitate one of the maids, she felt sure she would make a mistake, and that would be even more suspicious. She lowered her voice and said confidentially, “Since my father passed on, the family’s fallen on hard times, so I came to London to make my way.”

“Terrible.” The woman clucked in sympathy and reached out to pat her arm. “Well, just take this one that’s comin’.” She nodded toward the omnibus rattling toward them, a block away. “It’s not the one I take, or I’d show ya meself. But it’s easy enough, just get off when ya see the station.”

“Thank you.” Sabrina beamed at her.

“Ah, lass.” The woman heaved a sigh, shaking her head. “With a smile like that, trouble’s sure to find ya.”

Sabrina refused to be disheartened by the woman’s gloomy appraisal. She turned back, considering her next problem. She had no idea how much it cost to ride the omnibus. She reached into her pocket, surreptitiously poking into the bag of money. It would not do for a maid to pull out a big pouch of coins. Nor did she want to present a gold coin—that was bound to be far too much—and since sovereigns and crowns made up the bulk of her coins, it presented a bit of a challenge. She was rather sure she had seen a shilling in her purse, but she doubted there was anything smaller. Surely a shilling wouldn’t be more than a maid would have. The problem was that the gold sovereign and the silver shilling were actually not very far apart in size, and it was hard to tell the difference by touch alone.

It was with some relief that she found a smaller coin, probably a sixpence or threepence, and she lifted it out, sneaking a glance at it in her palm. It was a sixpence, which, as it turned out, was large enough that it earned her a frown from the conductor as he sorted through his pennies and threepence pieces to give her change.

Riding in the omnibus was a rather slow and dull affair, as it stopped often for passengers to get on or off, but Sabrina entertained herself watching all the people and vehicles traveling the streets. She kept a sharp lookout for Paddington and finally saw it a block down on a cross street. Quickly yanking the cord as she had seen others do, she got off when the vehicle came to a stop and walked to the station.

Forewarned by her earlier experience, she went to the privacy of the lavatory to pull out her money pouch and take out the coins she might possibly use. She thought about changing into the clothes in her sack as well, but it was a tight and awkward place to do so, and anyway, she decided, it would probably look less odd for a maid to be buying a ticket for her employer than for a young lady to do it herself.

She just wished she had some idea what it would cost and how much she should have ready. How was it possible that she could know so little of what anything cost? Was that another problem of her failed memory or evidence of how little she had ever handled anything in her life? She had heard the duchess go on at length about the way young ladies were kept removed from the practicalities of life, everything purchased for them by parents or husbands.

She remembered the ticket office from the day she and Alex had come here, so she found it easily. After a wink from a man toting baggage and a leer from a man dressed much like Con had been this morning, she made it a point to keep her gaze forward and down. But as she stood in line, she couldn’t keep from looking all around her, searching for a sight of the Dearborns...or Alex. She saw neither, and while the lack of Dearborns reassured her, her heart grew heavier at the thought of Alex.

It was silly. There was no reason to think he would have followed her. She had done her best to conceal her departure. He probably didn’t yet know she wasn’t napping in her room. Even when he discovered she was gone, he wouldn’t know where she went. And really, why should he follow her? It wasn’t as if he could make her return to Broughton House. Her absence would resolve his problem with the Dearborns. He would understand that it was better this way.

There was no reason that thought should make her heart feel so leaden. It was what she wanted. She had wanted to get away from Broughton House. To spare him the difficulty of hiding her from her guardian. To protect him from scandal. She was doing the right thing.

She just wished doing the right thing didn’t hurt so much.

After buying the ticket, she made her way to the platform. The train sat there, passengers trickling on board, baggage carriers trundling their carts to the baggage car. She looked around a last time or two and climbed on board.

Her compartment was at the far end of the first-class passengers’ car. She closed the door, turned the latch and pulled down the shades on the window. She pulled out the dress she had carried with her in the sack; it would be suspicious for a maid to be traveling in a first-class compartment alone. The frock was crumpled, as was the small, plain bonnet, but they would have to do. Dressing quickly, she tossed her disguise aside and dropped down onto the padded bench seat.

She tried not to think about Alex, but her mind went to him despite her best efforts. She thought of when she had first seen him standing outside the agency door, slim and straight, those bright green eyes focused on her. She felt again that instant tug of attraction, of rightness, the sense that she knew him. An image flickered in her mind and was gone; she tried to call it back but it remained elusively out of reach.

The train jerked beneath her. They were starting. The train began to roll forward, gradually gaining speed. Sabrina thought of raising the window shade to watch London move past them, but she didn’t want to watch it slip away from her. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she blinked them away.

She heard the clang of the car’s connected door close, and then the faint sound of knocking and the murmur of voices. It moved down the corridor toward her, growing louder and louder. The conductor was taking up tickets. When the tap sounded at her own door, she rose, unlocked it and pulled it open.

A man stood in the corridor, face flushed, hair in disarray.

“Alex!”