The Lady Seals Her Fate by Wendy Vella

Author:Wendy Vella
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Vella Ink
Published: 2016-03-11T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Three days after someone had hit Alex over the head and knocked him unconscious; Hannah left her house with her maid to do some much-needed shopping. He was well, because she had received word from him saying he would call on her later that day, and her father had said that when he saw Finn, Lord Levermarch had been happy with his brother’s progress. Hannah had not visited him, because she feared she would dissolve into tears. The thought that he had been hurt because of her had wormed its way into her head and taken root. How and why, she had no notion, but she was now certain that was the truth. If she had not implicated him in her charade, he would not have been struck down.

She had left the ballroom the night of the Gemmell ball after receiving a note, and walked into the gardens as it had directed her to do, but the blackmailer had not shown and when she returned to the house it had been to find a distraught Phoebe, and Alex lying on a chaise, pale and unconscious. Seeing him so lifeless had shocked her, and with that shock had come realization. She cared for him, deeply, and she must end this now, before he was hurt any more.

Imagining a world that Alex did not inhabit was horrifying and not something she wished to contemplate.

“We are to visit the milliner, Miss Wooller?”

“Yes, that will be our first stop, Mary.”

She let her maid chatter about what they needed while her mind returned to Alex. Lord Levermarch had started investigations as to why Alex had been attacked, and by whom, but as yet no lead had been found. She knew he would not stop until his brother’s attacker was found, and she hoped he was successful.

Sending her carriage away, Hannah and Mary entered the milliner’s. After walking the length of the street and purchasing three pairs of gloves for Bridgette and herself, and a new parasol for her sister, they started their return journey toward the carriage.

“Miss Wooller?”

A boy appeared before her.

“Yes, I am she.”

He thrust a note at her and then fled. Hannah’s hands shook as she opened it. Meet me in Pickle lane, now. The words were in black ink, the letters a ragged scrawl across the page, and the spelling terrible, and they sent a wave of terror up Hannah’s spine.

“Do you know where Pickle Lane is, Mary?” Hannah asked her maid.

“About a fifteen-minute walk from here heading east, Miss Wooller. Off Little Lane, then a right turn halfway down brings you out into it,” Mary said. “But it’s not a place for a lady. It’s frequented by some nasty folks.”

“I’m not going there, I have just heard it spoken off.” Hannah waved a hand about and then opened her reticule and pretended to look inside.

“Mary, I seem to have left my coin purse in one of the shops, could you fetch if for me?”

“Of course.” The maid hurried away, and Hannah quickly headed in the opposite direction.

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