Page 9 of Anastasia and the Duke
Hannah had nodded; Jack had been a childhood friend who, much like she, had fallen in with a bad lot. For people like them, the noose was only one stroke of bad luck away.
"I'll do it," Hannah had sighed, as terror clutched her heart, "But I don't know why you think this Lady Lansdowne is going to think me her lost granddaughter."
"Oh, she will," Sid had been most certain, "I been in her house once, on a business matter, and caught sight of a portrait of her daughter; red hair, just like you. Add to that your tale of being an orphan, and the fact that you speak French, and the countess will be falling all over herself to convince you you're Anastasia."
"A business matter?" Hannah had arched an eyebrow, "Don't tell me you've already pilfered the poor woman before? Alright, Sidney, you make the plan, and I shall follow it--but I don't know how you're going to get me close enough to the countess to make her fall for your plot."
"You leave that to me," Sidney had replied, before offering her a wink and a smile that made her flesh crawl and departing in great cheer.
That had all been a week ago, and in the intervening time, Nan had spent her days trying to persuade Hannah to change her mind.
"I beg you, Hannah, please," Nan whispered, that morning, as they heard Sidney's call from the hallway, "It's too dangerous. We're fine as we are, no need to go to such great risk when we can muddle along as we always do."
"Don't you want to be free?" Hannah hissed back, as Sidney's footsteps sounded out his approach, "Of him? We need never see him again, Nan, if this goes as planned."
Nan's resolve had wavered, as Hannah had hoped it would. The only thing that frightened Nan more than losing Hannah, was Sidney. He had a strange hold over her; his very presence left Nan fearful and on edge, though Hannah had never heard him raise his voice, nor lift a finger to her.
Hannah smoothed the apron she wore over her dress with nervous hands as Sidney bounded into the kitchen. He wore a smug grin upon his face and as he caught sight of both women, he threw his arms out in triumph, like a winning pugilist in the ring.
"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find," he crowed, completely oblivious to how distasteful some might find it to hear a man of his ilk and intentions quoting Scripture.
"Have you found God?" Hannah replied, raising an eyebrow, "Given up on the criminal life to take a stand at Speaker's Corner?"
"Not ruddy likely," Sid snorted in reply, pulling out one of the chairs to take a seat, "I've got you an interview, Miss Smith, for the position of companion to Lady Lansdowne."
"What?"
A wave of nerves hit Hannah, as she realised that the plan which had only been abstract, was now about to become a reality.
"This afternoon," Sidney chuffed, as he reached into the inside pocket of his flamboyant, maroon coat, "I even got you a letter of recommendation from your previous employer."
Sid waved a sheaf of paper in the air proudly and Hannah gave a snort of laughter.
"And what does it say?" she challenged, allowing herself a smile, "Light of finger, quick of feet, the best thief in the Ward of St Giles'?"
"I didn't write it," Sidney harrumphed, handing the page over so that Hannah might read what it said, "There's a man over Lambeth way who owed me something of a favour. He was happy to ink his name to a page, in exchange for my clemency."
"What's a bit of forgery compared to two broken legs?" Hannah mused, under her breath.
Her eyes scanned the missive quickly; it was a perfectly valid letter of recommendation from a gentleman called Robert Morrison, proprietor of a well-known wine-merchants, who claimed that a "Miss Hannah Blackmore" had come into his employ from the Lambeth Orphanage, and had cared for his mother in her dotage and unto her death.
The idiot man must owe Sid an awful lot of coin, Hannah thought with a smile, for she could not find fault with the letter, which conferred a great deal of respectability onto her.
"What you're going to do," Sid continued, as Hannah placed the letter down onto the table, "Is hand this letter over to the Countess and let her read it. When she asks who your parents were, you just say you don't know, that you were dropped at the gates of the school, speaking only French."
"And what if someone checks with the school?" Hannah countered, reluctant to trust him.
"It's already sorted," Sid's wide smile revealed his two gold teeth, "The Matron likes her gin, so she does."
"Sometimes I wonder what you could do if you turned your talents to something else, Sid," Hannah admitted, grudgingly, "You might be Prime Minister, if you had been inclined to take a more honest direction in life."
"Pfft," Sid shrugged, "Ain't no difference between me and the crooks in Whitehall, my dear--except IknowI'm a crook."
Despite her earlier reservations, Hannah could not help but allow herself to be carried away by Sid's air of jubilation. The only person who did not seem thrilled by the news that the plan was going better than hoped was Nan, whose face was pale as ash.
"Nancy, you're standing there like a doorpost, only half as useful," Sid growled, as he too caught sight of her, "Get a move on and get us some tea, woman. Now,Miss Blackmore, here's what you're going to do..."
Hannah bit her lip to keep from offering Sid a choice insult and allowed him to outline his plan. It was useless to upbraid him for his treatment of Nan, for it would only serve to make Nan nervous that he might lash out again and put Sid into a howler of a mood.
