Page 83 of Would I Lie to the Duke
Throat aching, Jess saw that Lady Catherton hobbled slowly up the front step of her town house, her pace slowed by the silver-tipped cane in her hand.
Jess turned to Nell standing beside the trunk. “Your services are no longer needed. I will pay you the balance of your salary as soon as you help me carry my baggage inside. We must move quickly.” She grabbed one handle of the trunk. “We’ll use the back entrance.”
The maid frowned, but took the other handle. Together, they carried the trunk down the street. As they passed Lady Catherton’s house, the lady herself navigating the front stoop, Jess made sure to duck her head and hope that the brim of her bonnet hid her face.
“Miss McGale!” Lady Catherton called into the open door. “Miss McGale, where are you?”
“Hurry,” Jess urged Nell. They turned into the mews.
Sweat slicked down Jess’s back as she and her abigail awkwardly muscled the luggage down the low steps leading to the servants’ entrance.
A footman opened the door. He looked puzzled as he glanced between the trunk and Jess.
“Take this up,” she said to him. “Immediately.”
“Yes, miss.” He hefted the trunk into his arms and moved into the house.
“And this is for you.” Jess set a stack of coins in Nell’s hand. “Plus a bit extra for your assistance.”
The abigail tucked the coins into her reticule. “Will you provide a character?”
Jess grimaced. “I can’t even provide a character for myself. My apologies.” She hurried inside.
She raced through the kitchen and then up the stairs.As she ran, she heard Lady Catherton calling again, her voice echoing in the foyer. “Miss McGale! Oh, is that my trunk?”
Oh, no.
Jess sped down the corridor. She came to an abrupt halt in the foyer, slapping a smile onto her aching, tight face, and blinking away the sweat that trickled into her eyes.
Lady Catherton looked at her as she stood beside the trunk that Jess had used for her trip to the country.
“My lady.” She dipped into a curtsy, barely managing to keep from tipping over. “What a pleasure to see you so soon.”
Lady Catherton’s normally porcelain forehead pleated in perplexity. “You’re usually so prompt, Miss McGale. Goodness, you look like you’ve been racing up and down the garden.”
“Because...” Jess coughed. “Because I have. I read somewhere that a little physical exertion has been proven to maintain one’s health. Must keep myself in good form to better serve you.” She patted her chest. “There. Healthy as a plowhorse.” She cleared her throat. “This is an unexpected arrival.”
“I sent word two days ago. I wrote I was feeling better and my physician deemed me fit to travel and then depart for the Continent. Didn’t you get my letter?”
Jess’s gaze shot to the side table and the platter atop it. A missive bearing her name, written in Lady Catherton’s hand, rested on the platter. Jess snatched it from the table and crumpled it in her hand, trying to hide the evidence that she hadn’t been home to receive it.
“Oh, yes, the letter! Of course! I meant I didn’t expect you at thishour. You must’ve made good time, with accommodating roads.”
Lady Catherton peered at her. “What are you doing in my clothing?”
“Most of my garments were damaged in transit,” Jess improvised, “so I’d been relying on the same gown for the past fortnight. To make matters worse, your trunks were accidentally put into storage before I could unpack them. Your letter explaining your injury came before I’d fetched the trunks.” She went on, “I’d intended to get the trunks out, but there had been so many matters that required my attention, I hadn’t had the opportunity. It’s been so hectic, you know.”
“If my trunks were in storage, why are you inmydress?”
“I inadvertently packed one of your gowns in with my own clothing, and it was one of the few garments in my bag that wasn’t damaged. So while I have been repairing my own clothing, I’d no choice but to wear your gown. I apologize that it’s a little rumpled, but I’ve been wearing it for several days in a row—with clean linen beneath, of course.”
She didn’t explain that she’d just been in a ducal carriage for several hours, instead gesturing toward the trunk that sat on the foyer floor. “Here’s one of your trunks now, finally retrieved from storage. Have it brought to Lady Catherton’s room,” she said to the waiting footman. “Her maid will air out her garments.”
“Yes, miss.” The servant bowed and carried the trunk upstairs.
Lady Catherton tilted her head. “Things appear to be in chaos, Miss McGale. That is unlike you. Are you all right?”
“Apologies, my lady. Your time here in London will be smooth and without incident.”God, I hope that’s true.
