Whispering Twilight by Melissa McShane

Author:Melissa McShane [McShane, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Melissa McShane

Chapter 20

In which Bess returns home and says an unhappy goodbye

Instantly the temperature dropped by several degrees, and white walls closed in around them. Bess stepped away from Blake and turned, catching sight of a violet and orange Bounding symbol. Tiny lights glowed behind the thick glass of lanterns hung on the walls. The room smelled of fresh paint and vinegar, as if it had been newly refurbished. “Where are we?” she asked.

“Carstairs Bounding’s main offices in London,” Blake said. “You did say anywhere, miss. Will you explain what is going on? I almost feel I have kidnapped you.”

“A rescue, rather,” Bess said. Her heart was still pounding, and she felt weak in the knees. “Thank you for your prompt action. There was no time for questions. That man intended to keep me a prisoner until I gave him what he wanted.”

Blake’s eyes widened. “Miss, did he offer you insult? Who was he?”

Bess shook her head. “He did not, he simply—oh, it does not matter now. Thank you for your celerity.”

“It was my pleasure to aid the war effort, miss. Now that you are safe, is there another destination you would like me to take you to?”

Bess chose not to correct his misapprehension about her status with the War Office. “Is there anyone here who can return me to Devonshire?” Her heart was gradually returning to its usual calm rate, and she drew in a deep breath and released it slowly.

“Where in Devonshire, miss?” Blake pushed open the Bounding chamber door and gestured for Bess to precede him. “Really, this is all very irregular. But I assure you we can take you wherever you need to go.”

The Bounding chamber lay at one end of a long hallway lined with plain white doors. Bess guessed these were also Bounding chambers, and her assessment of the size and prestige of Carstairs Bounding increased. Ahead of them, one of the doors opened, and a man wearing the same uniform as Blake exited and strolled away down the hall, not paying them any heed. Blake stepped ahead of Bess and said, “You may wait in the west salon, miss, while I consult the roster. Do you wish to go to Plymouth?”

“No, my home is near Lamberton—that is some five miles northwest of Exeter.” She knew of no private Bounding chambers in Lamberton, as no one in her social circle was a Bounder, or she might have contacted that person directly.

“There may be nothing in Lamberton, but Exeter is a certainty. Pray, wait here—” Blake ushered her into a small but well-appointed sitting room—“and I will return shortly.”

The west salon reminded Bess of a scaled-down version of her mother’s sitting room at home, full of comfortable chairs and sofas upholstered in narrow blue striped fabric in a Grecian style and smelling of the same acrid scents as the Bounding chamber, if less strongly. The resemblance to home helped convince Bess she was finally out of danger; it was hard to remain agitated in such placid surroundings.

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