Page 6 of A Very Roguish Boxing Day
Gwen grabbed the plain wool garment, tossed it down, then steeled herself.Keeping a tight grip on the rope, she swung one leg and then the other through the window frame.Tamping down her fear, she lowered herself as carefully as she could.
She lost her grip on the rope almost immediately, but she had managed to dangle herself low enough that she only fell about six feet.And she landed in a bush, which would have been mortifying under normal circumstances, but tonight served to cushion her landing.
“Thank you,” Gwen whispered, dusting leaves off her skirts.“I…”
She trailed off, astonished, as one of the two strangers scrambled up the rope more gracefully than Gwendolyn could walk across a room.
The woman pulled the rope up behind her, then leaned out the window, giving a jaunty salute.“I’ll await your signal!”she hissed.“Good luck, Miss Gwendolyn!”
“What…?How…?”Gwendolyn sputtered.
The other woman, whose red hair Gwendolyn could make out in the moonlight, didn’t answer.Seizing Gwendolyn’s elbow, she hustled her across the garden with surprising strength, given that Gwendolyn was probably four stone heavier.“That’s Mrs.Robinson.She works for Astley’s Amphitheatre.”
Astley’s Amphitheatre employed a variety of circus performers, which explained the woman’s adroit ascent.
It did not explain what she was doing in Gwendolyn’s room.“But what is she doing?”
“Someone has to be there to throw the rope back down,” the redheaded woman explained.“So you can sneak back in come morning.”
“Sneak back in?”Gwen tripped over something in the dark but managed not to fall.“Why would I want to sneak back in?I’ve just escaped!”
They had reached the doorway connecting their garden to that of their neighbors, the Hugheses.The woman turned to Mariah and pressed her hand.“Thank you, Mariah.You did the right thing in coming to us.”
Mariah curtseyed.“Thank you, m’lady.”She turned to Gwen.“Now, don’t you worry, Miss Gwendolyn.Yer in good hands.I’ll see you in the morning.”
She slipped back toward the house as Gwendolyn’s new friend opened the gate.Peering around the edge of the door, she gestured for Gwen to follow.
Although Gwendolyn had no idea who her new companion might be, she did not hesitate.Mariah seemed to trust her, after all.
Besides, even being kidnapped by pirates was probably a better fate than remaining in her brother’s clutches.
They scurried across the Hughes family’s garden, then repeated the process twice more, creeping through the gardens of Mr.Henry Burbage and the Thompson sisters.
As they passed through the final garden door, her companion sighed with relief.“That was quite the adventure, wasn’t it?But here we are.”
Gwendolyn had to work to keep up with her brisk stride.“Where is here?And… I’m sorry.I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m Charlotte Bennet, the Marchioness of Sylvan.”The woman gave her a dazzling smile as they stepped into the warm light filtering through a tall window.“And this is Matron Manor.Home of the Wicked Widows.”
“Who are the Wicked Widows?”Gwen asked as Lady Sylvan led her inside the stately house.
“You could call it a club,” her companion replied, leading her down a corridor of polished wood.In spite of the late hour, beeswax candles twinkled in the sconces spaced evenly along the walls.
Something felt different about the space.Gwen realized with a start that the portraits lining the walls were all of women, without a gentleman to be seen.
The marchioness smiled as she opened a door.“Here’s our leader, Lady Wyndam.”
The parlor, which was tastefully decorated in shades of burgundy and cream, was illuminated by a dozen candles.Seated on the striped silk sofa was a woman who looked old enough to be Gwen’s mother.Her dark brown hair was streaked with grey.She had high cheekbones and an angular face.When she pushed to her feet with the assistance of a mahogany cane, Gwendolyn saw that she was quite petite.Gwen was on the shorter side herself, but this woman was an inch or two shorter still.
Gwendolyn made an awkward curtsey.“Lady Wyndam, I can’t thank you enough for your help.”
The countess nodded crisply, then resumed her seat.She gestured for Gwen to take one of the Chippendale chairs facing the sofa.“It’s no trouble, child.Your maid, Mariah, told us all about your situation.You’re one of us now.”
A maid brought in a tray of tea.Gwendolyn hadn’t eaten all day and could scarcely tear her eyes off the pastries artfully arrayed on a plate.But Lady Wyndam’s words managed to penetrate her fog of hunger.“Oh!But I’m not a wicked widow!”
Lady Wyndam thumped her cane against the Axminster carpet.“Certainly, you are!”She gestured to the tea tray.“Go on, dear.I know you’re hungry.”
“Thank you,” Gwen muttered, snagging a crumpet.
