Page 25 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
She was boarding the London coach.
Jane caught up with her before she reached the door and handed her the folded shawl.“For your journey,” she said.
“But—”
“I insist,” Jane said.“It would bring me great pleasure to think of you holding the new babe with this warming both of you.My, er, late husband was a merchant, and I have others similar to this at home.”
“Hurry along now,” the innkeeper said.“Leaving in moments.”
The woman quickly pulled off the knitted brown wool draping her.“Take this then, with my great thanks.Made it myself I did.”She curtsied.“And may your pretty daughter give you many happy grandbabes.”
Jane swallowed tears and slipped back into the corner with Jenny.
“I’m sorry,” Jenny whispered.
Her insides shook.She pulled the brown knit close.It smelled faintly of rosewater.
“Don’t be.It’s just as well.”
She was embarking on a criminal enterprise.It was time to let go of the sentimentalities of the past.
She stroked the brown shawl, examining the stitches.“The work here is very good.We’ve made a good bargain.It was cold on the water yesterday.This will be much warmer.”
Jenny nodded, her face a pasty oval.The girl had reluctantly boarded Davy’s skiff, only because the other option was to stay behind.And now they’d be sailing on a larger ship.
“I’ve been back and forth to Ireland many times with no trouble,” Jane said.“And I’ve heard that the Channel packets are very clean and comfortable.”She patted Jenny’s hand.“And if your stomach gets queasy, I’ll show you some tricks that will help.”
Jenny sighed.“How long ’til we reach London?”
“Days.How many will depend on the wind.”And she wasn’t sure if it would be better to arrive in London earlier or later.By now, Kincaid knew she had left, and knowing him, he was up and out and on her trail.And perhaps he’d tear his wound open again and be laid up again for a while.
Though she didn’t wish the man any ill, truly she didn’t.
“They’ll look for the cart and the horse,” Jenny said.
“And not find it for several more days.”Davy had promised that.
“They’ll be checking the inns,” Jenny said, “but maybe not the docks.”
“With luck.And then we must find a place to stay when we arrive in London.”Thanks to Perry, they had enough money for a few nights’ lodging.
Jenny nodded.“I’ve been thinking on that and I know just the place.”
The nondescript terracedhouse at Number 18, Gerrard Street, stood shoulder to shoulder with its neighbors, all looking glum on this rainy afternoon.As planned, Jane and Jenny continued on past to the junction, where they turned.
Proceeding too far would put them on a street perhaps less than safe for a respectable mother and her daughter walking alone, traveling cases in hand.They soon turned into a narrow mews and found their way through the house’s back gate to the servants’ entrance.
How far she had fallen.Though they’d had exceptionally fair winds and made good speed, she’d still had much time for thinking in the days and nights aboard the packet boat.Her chances of being tried as a thief and transported—or worse, hanged—grew exponentially with each passing day.
She squared her shoulders.She must be grateful and just as wily as the man she’d robbed.The Earl of Shaldon had not found out about her theft yet.Or if he had, he was biding his time before pouncing.
Jenny pounded the door rather loudly.“Mr.Lewis is hard of hearing,” she explained.
An older man in simple workman’s attire appeared and squinted at them.
“Who is it, then?”asked a small woman peering around him, the lace on her mob cap fluttering.
“Jenny?”The man’s face broke into a gap-toothed smile.“Well, if it ain’t our Jenny.And I thought you were lady’s maid to a countess.”
