Page 91 of The Viscount's Seduction
“No. I’ve been after the sewer commissioners to clean up the lines. London is growing and…” He shook his head. “Shall I send your maid to tuck you in?”
Tuck her in? Bakeley thought he’d married a meek soul who needed a maid to fetch and carry for her. An Irish lady who’d blithely forget all her countrymen and open her arms to the English at a fancy London ball.
It made her head spin, it did.
She patted his arm. “Go on with you, then.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead and she watched him hurry off.
Inside, all was quiet. Outside, carriages clacked and rattled, rich people off to their parties and balls. And the night stink did indeed seep through the windows.
A year earlier, she’d have run the fields in brisk, chilly air on a night like this. Even two days ago, she’d been free to go out at the crack of dawn.
She pounded a fist on the door frame. They’d trapped her, these English, as surely as Jamie must have been trapped.
She found the same servants’ staircase she’d climbed with Bakeley that first night and groped her way down to the back door.
