Blame It on Bath Page 0,11

main road away from town. It took quite some time, but Katherine was immensely grateful it was even possible. Just one more day of delay would have meant disaster, for the captain would have been too far out of town for her to catch.

Not that she was safe yet, though. She wriggled out of the dress and petticoat, and Birdie bundled them into a ball. It took some doing to unlace her stays and get them off in the dark, narrow carriage, even with Birdie’s help, but she finally slipped her nightdress over her head. She took off her shoes and put on her slippers over her woolen stockings. The chill night air raised gooseflesh on her limbs, and she shivered as she pulled the cloak gratefully back around herself.

“You’ll catch your death of cold,” muttered Birdie. “Such foolishness this was.”

“It would have been more foolish to do nothing,” Katherine replied.

“Hard to say yet.”

“I say so.”

Birdie’s mouth twisted, but she said nothing more. She motioned with one hand. “Turn, so I can take down your hair.”

Katherine obediently twisted on the seat. She clenched her teeth as Birdie tugged and pulled, fishing out the handful of pins that secured her hair in a tight knot at her neck. She wished she’d been able to meet the captain looking well dressed and groomed instead of like a runaway from the workhouse, but it was vital she not be seen or recognized. Her mother had assured Lucien that Katherine would surely accept his proposal, so he grudgingly allowed her some freedom. If he came to suspect she was scheming to wed someone else and deprive him of her money, he would put an end to it at once. And to be honest, Katherine admitted that even at her best, her looks weren’t likely to sway the captain one way or another. Perhaps it was better that he saw her first at her most drab; then she could only improve on further acquaintance.

Birdie was just plaiting her hair into a long braid when the carriage slowed to a stop. Again the abigail stepped down first, waving behind her back for Katherine when it was safe. Head down, she slipped from the cab and walked quickly away, whisking into the darkest shadows in an alley nearby. After Birdie paid the driver and the cab rattled away over the cobbles, Katherine peeked around the corner. The square was dark and quiet. The house across the street was also rather dark, which was a good sign; Lucien probably wasn’t home yet.

Birdie hustled up and Katherine handed her the bundle of clothes. Together they hurried silently across the street, circling the square until they reached the mews near the house. Again Birdie went in first. Katherine huddled in her cloak, waiting, sure the pounding of her heart would be audible to each and every neighbor. She listened to Birdie talk with the housekeeper for a moment, then with a male servant. The minutes ticked by, and her feet grew numb in her slippers. She could hear an occasional carriage rattle past on the street in front of the house but kept her eyes resolutely fixed on the door.

Finally Birdie opened it and beckoned to her. Instantly Katherine slipped into the house, shedding her cloak in one quick motion into Birdie’s waiting arm. Her abigail pressed a candle into her hand and pushed her toward the stairs. “He’s home,” she whispered, putting her cheek almost against Katherine’s as she draped a shawl around her shoulders. “Go quietly.”

Katherine nodded. Her nerves were gone now, for the most part. She was back in the house, dressed for bed, with no proof she’d been away. She mounted the stairs quietly but no longer afraid of being caught.

Which, of course, she was, by Lucien himself, in the corridor outside her room. “There you are,” he said in his vaguely reproving way. “You weren’t in your room.”

Of course he looked in her room. He considered every inch of the house his, open to his inspection at any moment. Katherine walked past him and opened her door, no longer wasting her breath in protesting it. “I wanted a cup of tea and went to fetch Birdie.”

“She should answer the bell,” he said, following her into the room but leaving the door open. “I’ve half a mind to sack such a lazy servant.”

“She is my abigail, and I would be lost without her. I gave her leave to go out this evening since I was indisposed.”