Page 4 of The Duke's Carriage Window
Half an hour later, Meredith was inside the crowded stagecoach that would take her to London. She clutched her reticule tight and gazed out the window at the approaching dawn. The farther she got away from the place which had been her home, the more she was both forlorn and relieved. She’d left behind her only friends and Uncle Ben, but at the same time she had escaped Harry.
She replayed that moment in the study over and over, trying to understand what had made Harry think he could treat her like that.
Harry had never tried to hurt her before. He spent very little time at Burton House. He was ten years her senior and often carousing in London, according to Uncle Ben, but when he came home to visit, he had always been polite. He had never tried to do what he had just done. Not that Meredith had ever trusted him. Mrs. Todd had instructed Meredith to be wary of men she did not know well and included her warnings by saying that even Master Harry was not always a gentleman. Mrs. Todd clearly had known something Meredith hadn’t about Harry.
When the coach stopped to change horses, Meredith stretched her legs and asked the driver how much longer it would take to reach London.
“From here? Five days, miss,” the man replied as the grooms checked the harnesses of the new team of horses that were set to replace the old team.
Five days from Yorkshire to London… It already felt like a thousand years.
By the fourth night, Meredith decided to use the last of her money to pay for a proper bed at a coaching inn. She had not changed clothes or bathed since she’d started, and she smelled of horses, sweat, and the stable yard.
After she was assured that her passage to London would be valid the following morning, she went inside the inn and spoke to the innkeeper. There were a few spare rooms left, and she paid for a dinner and a breakfast.
“If you want to make the morning stagecoach, I’ll have a maid rouse you,” the innkeeper said.
“Thank you ever so much,” Meredith replied. “Could you send dinner up to my room? I am quite tired and afraid I shall fall asleep.”
The innkeeper seemed to take pity on her. “Of course, lass. Go on up.”
She took the key the man gave her and climbed the creaky stairs to the rooms above the taproom. Her room was only two doors down. Her limbs had grown heavy, as though weighed down by stones. She had barely slept in the last four days. She had to keep an eye on her travel case every time they stopped to make sure no one stole it, and couldn’t risk missing getting back on the coach whenever she needed to relieve herself.
She opened the door to her room and dropped her case on the floor. With a few dragging steps, she collapsed face down on the bed’s feather tick mattress with a groan. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there before a noise behind her forced her to roll over.
A maid, no older than her, balancing a tray on one hip, was trying to close the door behind her as she entered the room.
“Sorry miss, for waking you, I mean. I have your supper.” The maid closed the door and set the tray down on the table by the bed.
“Thank you,” Meredith said as she climbed out of bed. “Does it cost extra to have a small bathing tub brought up?”
“Only if we’re full it would, but we aren’t full tonight. I’ll see if the lads can run up a tub with some water,” the maid replied.
“Thank you. I haven’t bathed in four days,” Meredith confessed.
The maid gave her a sympathetic look. “Eat up, and I shall send the lads up soon.”
Despite her weariness, Meredith devoured the stew and mopped up the remnants of the soup with a thick chunk of bread she’d been given. She wrapped the extra wedge of cheese in a handkerchief for tomorrow’s journey.
Shortly after dinner, two young men carried in a copper tub and filled it with hot water that was still steaming before they left Meredith alone. The tub was not large. All she could do was remove her clothes and stand inside of it. Shivering as the water cooled on her skin, she used a cloth to wipe herself clean of the dust and sweat of the last four days. Dark bruises marred her arm where Harry had manhandled her. The spots were tender to the touch, but she felt a little more like herself now. Once finished, she put on a clean chemise and crawled into bed.
Sleep came instantly, but not without dreams.
“Please, Merry, be a good girl and stay quiet.” Meredith’s mother whispered. She led Meredith up the stairs to the beautiful stone manor house. Her mother’s face, finally free of tears, was still splotchy as she knocked upon the door. It was close to nightfall. Meredith didn’t like the dark. The dark held dangers that every five year old instinctively feared and she pressed herself tight against her mother’s leg, fisting her hands in her skirts.
The door opened and an elderly man stared at them.
“May help you, madame?”
“Please. I need to speak with Mr. St. John,” her mother said. “Tell him it is Miss Mariah Montague.”
The man nodded. “Step into the foyer and I will speak to the master.”
Meredith clutched her mother’s hand as they entered the foyer. Candlelight illuminated the tapestries, and she saw a marble bust of a beautiful woman that looked a little like her mother decorating the space beneath the staircase.
“Remember, you must be quiet.”
Meredith nodded. She was always quiet. Papa didn’t like it when she made noise. He didn’t like to be reminded she existed. But that papa had left her and mama.
