The Changeling Bride by Lisa Cach

Author:Lisa Cach [Cach, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Published: 1999-11-21T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Elle dug through a pile of Henry’s breeches, pausing at a dark green pair. “No, they don’t like you to wear green,” she muttered to herself and kept digging. She pulled out an old turquoise pair and held them up to her hips with shaking hands. They would do.

She picked up the shirt she had already filched and brought her loot back to her own dressing room. She shrugged off her robe and pulled the garments on over her bare skin, tugging for a moment to get the breeches up over her hips, afraid they would rip. Once on, they were looser than she had expected. She had thought for certain she was larger than Henry.

His shirt hung down to her knees, her unbound breasts dimly visible through the thin linen. She slipped on her shoes and swung a cloak over the ensemble, checking the effect in the mirror. The cloak was almost long enough to hide her lack of skirts. With any luck, no one would be looking close enough to tell.

She scooped up Folklore of the British Isles and two large scarves, and patted her thigh for Tatiana. The dog jumped off the foot of the bed and trotted over to join her as she peered into the hallway. All appeared quiet, and Marianne had obeyed her command to leave her alone until called for.

She glanced back at the four-poster. She should draw the bed curtains. If Marianne glanced in to check on her, she would assume her mistress to be asleep.

The task complete, Elle slipped into the hallway, Tatiana at her heels. Sweat filmed her body, her muscles feeling loose and disobedient as she tried to make her footsteps silent on the bare wood. She made her way to a set of back stairs and wound her way down and through a narrow hallway, emerging after several turns in the kitchen.

Abigail was nowhere to be seen, but a girl was scrubbing dishes in a shallow stone sink. Elle gave a silent curse.

“Milady!” the girl said, catching sight of her, and then dropped a curtsy.

Elle inclined her head to the girl. “Could you do me a small favor?” Might as well make use of her.

“My pleasure, milady.”

“I should like a small jug of milk, a bowl, and a loaf of fresh bread. And a small pot of honey, if we have it.” She tried to copy Henry’s look of cool composure.

“Would you like me to bring them to you above stairs, then, milady?”

“No. Just set them here on the table.”

“Yes, milady.” The girl frowned a bit, puzzled but moved to do as directed.

Elle watched her, wishing there had been no one in the kitchen in the first place. A scullery maid was better than Abigail, though, who might be more tempted to ask questions.

She unfolded one of the scarves on the table top, placing the book in the center. The girl came back with the food, and Elle piled it on top of the book, then folded the corners of the cloth over the top and tied it all into a neat bundle.

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