The Poisoned House by Michael Ford

Author:Michael Ford [Ford, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: BLOOMSBURY PUBLISHING
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 21

I made my way downstairs, pausing every few steps to make sure that no one was coming. The tinkle of cutlery and glasses trickled up the stairs from the dining room, accompanied by muffled laughter. Clearly my disaster was forgotten.

I wore my plain blue dress, washed clean from the night of my failed escape. If anyone saw me now, my attire would seem odd but not inexplicable. Still, I didn’t want to risk being seen.

On the ground floor, I heard steps coming up from the scullery and pressed myself against the wall. From the sound I knew it was Lizzy, probably taking in the dessert – a great meringue flavoured with vanilla cream. I heard the dining-room door open and close again, which meant Mr Lock was still inside too. There was only Cook to contend with.

I crept down the back steps into the scullery and could hear her banging pans in the kitchen. The back door was ajar, and I passed silently through. It wasn’t as cold a night as we’d had recently, but I was glad of my long stockings. The Ambroses’ carriage stood unhitched in front of the stable barn and their horse was lodged in a stall beside Lancelot’s, covered with a thick blanket.

I was almost at the gate when I heard a voice behind me.

‘Bit late to be heading out, ain’t it?’

Henry was sitting on the back fender of the carriage, the red glow of a cheroot clamped between his lips.

‘Good evening,’ I said, trying to sound calm. ‘Where’s Rob?’

‘Gone to make sure his master’s fire is well-stoked,’ he said. ‘He’ll be back soon enough though, so I should go now if you have a mind to go at all.’

I paused, unsure. ‘You mean you won’t tell?’ I said.

He hoisted a foot and put out the cigarette on the sole of his boot. ‘I’ve no reason to, have I?’ he said.

He was smiling but it was a knowing grin, and then I understood. He knew that I knew about him and Elizabeth.

‘We shall keep each other’s secrets then,’ I said.

He nodded. ‘You have yourself a fine evening, little one.’

I heard Rob’s voice in the kitchen, and then Cook’s, saying that she’d have his guts for garters. Then his feet on the loose gravel. Too late. I darted past Henry and behind the carriage.

‘Look what I’ve found us,’ said Rob, laughing. ‘A leg of chicken each.’

Henry stood up. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘Let’s go back inside. My hands are blue.’

‘Then you can face Cook’s wrath first,’ said Rob.

‘Thank you,’ I whispered, even though he couldn’t hear.

Having unlatched the gates I was out on St Anne’s Lane. Of course I hadn’t a clue which way to go, but I planned to stop the nearest cabby and ask him the way. I went south, avoiding the park and threading through the smaller streets. The residences were less grand than Greave Hall, and lights shone from many windows. It was not yet late, and the pavements were filled with men and women well wrapped up for the night.

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