The Duke's Messenger by Vanessa Gray

Author:Vanessa Gray [Gray, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-05-08T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Mullins, anxious to make amends for her dereliction, accompanied Nell as far as the door at the end of the hall. “Watch the steps, miss. I think the hall at the bottom goes straight to the outside.”

“Will the outer door be barred?”

“I dunno, miss.”

There was, if it could be seen in the faint light, an odd emotion on the maid’s face. All this skulking around in the night ought by rights to be left to her betters. Such havey-cavey goings-on were entirely beneath her dignity. Mullins had worked her way from parlor maid up to the infinitely satisfying and undemanding position of personal maid to Lady Sanford. She shrank from revealing any knowledge of the workings of lower levels of domestic service.

But, aside from her wounded dignity, she was out of her element, in an alien land, beset in all likelihood by cutthroats and outlaws, and far too many Frenchmen to suit her taste. She longed with all her heart to be back in Mount Street, all the tools of her trade at hand, enjoying the gratifying deference to her position of the lesser servants.

“Mullins!” whispered Nell urgently, “you’re not coming down the steps with me?”

“No, miss, begging your pardon, that I’m not. I may be to blame for this hullaballoo, but I’m not about to wait down there in the dark for who knows what kind of monster. You can smell the damp and the mold all the way up here. No, miss. Not if you was to fire me this minute!”

“We would in that case have to leave you behind when we depart.”

The maid gasped, but no amount of persuasion on the part of Nell, sadly hampered by the vital need for silence, would serve.

“Well, if you can’t, I suppose I should be grateful that I won’t find you slumped in a swoon when I return. Do you think, Mullins, that if you put your mind to it you could manage to leave this upper door open, so that I can see my way when I come back?”

The maid agreed, adding a mutter that sounded like “ If you come back, miss.”

Even Mullins’ dubious company would be better than none. But Nell, driven by necessity, stepped with extreme caution down the cement stairs that led from the second floor of the old tower to the ground floor of the west wing. She had no wish to be found at the bottom of the stairs with a broken limb, at least until she had the parcel safe in her possession.

She stumbled at the bottom, expecting another step and meeting the floor. She paused to consider where she was, stretching her hands out to both sides. The corridor was so narrow that her arms were not extended to their full length. In truth, she wondered how the kitchen maids could manage their huge trays in the confined space.

The stone walls were cold to her touch. She shuffled ahead, lest she fall against some obstacle in the dark. Her fingers moved along smooth walls for an interminable time.

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