is Mrs Asher served dinner? I can wait until she is served, certainly.’
‘M’l—’ Carter faltered. ‘Mrs Asher dines at eight o’clock.’
‘Eight o’clock. Splendid. I can be served after she dines.’
‘Very good, sir,’ Carter said again. The door closed.
Hugh listened for the next chiming of the clock.
Six chimes. Plenty of time for him to prepare.
He groped his way to the corner of the room where he’d discovered his trunk. Opening it, he dug through until he felt smooth, thick fabric, a lapel and buttons.
As he’d hoped. One of his coats, and beneath it, a waistcoat.
He felt around more until his fingers touched the starched linen of a neckcloth. He could tie it blindfolded, could he not? How many neckcloths had he tied himself over the years?
He wrapped the cloth around his neck and created a simple mail-coach knot. Or hoped he had. Next he donned his waistcoat and coat and carried his boots over to the rocking chair. Seated on the chair, he pulled on his boots.
For the first time since the fire, Hugh was fully dressed. Already he felt more like a man.
He made his way confidently to the door.
But missed, touching the wall instead. He ran his hand along the wall until it touched the door. Excitement rushed through him. Would a man released from prison feel this way? Free, but wary, because he did not know what was on the other side.
He took a step out into the hallway and paused again, trying to listen for sounds, searching for the staircase.
This time he could hear sounds coming from below. He must be near the stairs. He stepped forwards carefully and reached the wall. Good. The wall could be his guide. He inched his way along it until he found the banister. His excitement soared.
Hugh laughed. You’d think he’d discovered a breach in the enemy’s defences.
He carefully descended the stairs, holding on to the banister. Amazing how uncertain he felt. He’d crept around buildings and other terrains in the dark before without this much apprehension.
Although he could at least see shadows then. Now he could see nothing.
He reached the last step and still kept one hand on the banister. Chances were that the front door to the house was ahead of him, facing the stairway, which meant that the rooms would be to the right, left or behind. Which would be the dining room?
It would have helped if he’d once seen this house, even from the outside.
He took a breath and began walking straight ahead until he, indeed, found the front door. Then, following his strategy for the bedroom, he started to feel himself along the wall.
‘What are you doing, sir?’ A woman’s voice. A village accent. The housekeeper of whom Mrs Asher spoke?
‘Are you Mrs Pitts?’ he asked.
‘Goodness, no, sir,’ the voice replied. ‘I am Mary, one of the housemaids, sir.’
Mrs Asher had not mentioned housemaids.
‘But what are you doing here, sir?’ she went on. ‘You should be upstairs, should you not? You are recuperating, is that not the way it is?’
‘I came downstairs for dinner.’ He spoke with a confidence a maid would not question. ‘I realise I am early, but if you direct me to the dining room, I would be grateful.’
‘It is early for dinner, sir,’ she said. ‘Would you like to wait in the drawing room? Mrs Asher said we are to announce dinner to her in the drawing room.’
‘The drawing room it is, then.’ Hugh smiled. ‘Can you show me where it is?’
‘Oh!’ The maid sounded as if she’d just figured out a big puzzle. ‘You cannot see and you haven’t been there yet! I remember Mrs Asher saying you were taken directly upstairs.’
He heard her approach him.
She touched his arm. ‘Come with me.’ She led him to the right and through the threshold of the drawing room. ‘I think Mrs Asher will be here soon. She and Monette are talking about our new dresses, you see, so I expect she will come here after that.’
‘I expect so,’ he replied.
‘Begging your pardon, sir, I should be about my duties.’ She said this with a surprising sense of pride.
‘Thank you for your help, Mary.’ He did not wish her to leave quite yet. ‘I have just one question.’
‘Yes, sir?’ She sounded very young. And inexperienced. Otherwise she would not talk so much.
‘How long have you worked for Mrs Asher?’ Because the lady had not informed him of the presence of a housemaid.
‘Oh, this is my first day, sir. For me and my sister, Ann. So I must not dawdle.’ She paused. ‘May I go, sir?’
‘By all means.’ Were the extra maids hired because of him? ‘Thank you again, Mary.’
She gave a nervous little laugh and he heard the door close.
Once again he was in a strange room with no sense of his bearings.
But he was getting used to it. He turned around and listened carefully for the hiss of the fire and the heat of it on his skin. He memorised the location of the fireplace and the location of the doorway. Somewhere in between there would be chairs and other seating. He trod carefully until he found one. When he was still, he also heard the ticking of a clock. Good. He’d keep track of time that way.
The half-hour, then three-quarters chimes sounded.
Shortly after, the door opened and Hugh smelled roses.
‘My goodness.’ It was Mrs Asher. ‘Mr Westleigh, you gave me a start!’
He stood. ‘My apologies.’
‘What are you doing here?’ She did not sound very pleased.
‘Carter said dinner was at eight. Since I am not confined to bed, I saw no reason to trouble your servants to wait on me.’
She came closer. ‘But Carter did not tell me—’
‘I did not consult with him.’
She sounded confused. ‘Then how did you get here? From upstairs, I mean.’
He straightened. ‘The way of all men, I suppose. I walked.’
‘By yourself?’
‘Well, I made it to the hall by myself,’ he said. ‘Mary helped me to the drawing room.’
‘Mary?’ She sounded confused again. ‘Oh. Mary. The new maid. That was kind of
