Evette had taken her plate to her room, while Millie had sat in the front parlor laying out her entire plan to Madame Sasha in between bites.
“Yes. Thank you, and I know you are soon to tire of hearing the words, but I truly am grateful you were willing to bring me here,” Millie replied. “But as you just heard, I need even more assistance. Will you provide it?”
“Not can I, but will I,” Sasha murmured to herself. She sat back and stared reflectively at the young beauty she had met a little over six months ago. Over the years, she had come to know of all three girls through one of her most trusted confidantes, the Dowager Marchioness of Chaselton. And like Cecilia, the current Marchioness of Chaselton had a wild spirit and a fearless soul. Last spring, being around Millie and her friends, Sasha had felt in many ways reborn, remembering her youthful and oftentimes foolhardy quest to experience all that life had to offer.
The Daring Three had been spellbound by her exuberant stories of life in the Russian court, unaware that not a one she had told was fiction but actually based on her own rich, unorthodox life. As a result, she might have indirectly as well as openly encouraged them to continue having adventures of their own—helping them with racy Vauxhall costumes, providing an occasional firearm, and enabling one of them to ensnare one of the Season’s most eligible bachelors. Regrettably, the three young women were also learning, just as she had, that such inclinations sometimes had unfortunate consequences.
“Will you help me?” Millie asked for the third time.
Sasha tapped her fingers together, which—like her face—looked far more youthful than her sixty-one years. Her somewhat petite and rounded figure hinted at a previously curvaceous body, but only her graying brown hair reflected her true age.
“It is not that what you ask of me is difficult. It is that I’m not sure it is wise,” Sasha began, her Russian accent more pronounced than usual. “Helping you come to London unseen is one thing, but what you are proposing is quite another. There are professionals for what you propose.”
“And my husband hired them.”
“And he has learned nothing in the past two weeks?”
Millie shook her head. “He has not written me one letter, and I am sure he would have if he had any news.” And neither has Elda Mae, she added to herself.
Sasha’s expression went grim. If Chaselton had not written his wife, then far more was going on than Millie was aware of. Someday Millie would learn to recognize when he was keeping secrets, but until then, she needed help in making her husband realize that keeping such confidences was rarely rewarding.
“Your plan to find Aimee yourself is, well, simply put . . . it is dangerous. Those who make a living on the docks work especially hard, and they drink and play hard as well. Most are unfamiliar with the rules of gentlemanly behavior, and the rest have no interest in adhering to them.”
“I’m not looking for gentlemen, Madame Sasha, and I am not trying to rescue Aimee. I’m only looking for answers as to who took her. There must be someone you know who might be willing to help me.”
“There may be, da. But they would need to trust you, and that would take more time than you have.”
Millie looked Sasha squarely in the eye and said without doubt, “But they know and trust you.”
Sasha twisted her lips to one side. To deny Millie’s assertion was pointless; Millie would never believe otherwise because it was true.
Sasha did have a rapport with several of the business owners who made a living along the docks. And as soon as she heard about Aimee going missing, she had conducted her own investigation. While she had been unable to confirm whether or not Aimee was safely aboard the Sea Emerald, Sasha did learn that there had been inquiries a couple of weeks ago concerning that same pinnace. After hearing the same tales that were told to Chaselton and his runner, she surmised Aimee was most likely safe.
The reason he had not told his wife what he learned was probably the same reason he had not written her. However, it was also unlikely he had written his mother, and Cecelia would want to know about her daughter’s latest caper. Sasha would send word immediately, but until Cecelia returned, Sasha was going to have to act in her place. And she was not sure just how to proceed.
“I also must take into consideration the others who live here. This favor you are asking does not affect just yourself, but those in this house. And if something goes ill, then they will have to live with the consequences long after you’re gone.”
Millie tried one last plea. “Madame Sasha, I realize I am placing you in a difficult position asking for your help, but please understand that I intend to conduct this search even if I have to rent a place of my own.”
Sasha examined the countenance of the woman sitting across from her. It was the same expression Sasha had worn when she made a decision that had changed her life forever. And while such willfulness and determination had brought her much heartache, Sasha knew that it had also enriched her life immeasurably. She would not go back and change her decision, even if she could.
Her original plan had been to tell Millie all of what she knew concerning Aimee and then persuade the young woman to join her husband. But now that Millie was here, Sasha no longer thought that was in the best interest of the couple. Chaselton would still keep his secrets and Millie would continue to take risks without considering him.
Sasha inhaled slowly and contemplated the problem before her. What would Cecelia do? she asked herself, and immediately knew the answer. Cecelia would say that more than one person could learn a lesson if this situation was handled correctly.
With a smile, Sasha exhaled just as slowly, as a new plan formed. It was not often one had the opportunity to walk in another’s footsteps, and Sasha just might have a way Millie could do so safely. It would help assuage any misplaced guilt and give her something to focus on until either Aimee returned or Chaselton came to his senses. And living here, Sasha hoped her tenants would learn just as much from the marchioness as she would from them.
Having made a decision, Sasha rose to her feet. “I will help you, but on one condition. I know someone who owns a tavern on the docks and owes me a favor. If he likes you, he may give you employment. If he refuses, then you must return to your life as a lady and wait to discover the fate of Aimee.”
Sasha studied the serious face looking back at her. She was actually proud of Millie for thinking about her answer before she spoke. For Sasha had meant what she said. There were lots of places for employment around the docks, but Sasha knew of only one where the owner looked out for the women who worked for him. It was not far and the route was well used and lit at night by the linkmen. Working there would still have risks, but life’s best lessons were learned when one took uncomfortable chances.
Millie frowned and considered the proposition. She did not like it, but deep down she also knew Madame Sasha’s offer was her best chance at having her plan succeed. She was entering a way of life that was completely foreign. To ignore the proposal of a person she had gone to for help would not be just reckless, it would mean failure.
Millie licked her lips and nodded once. “I accept.”
Sasha produced a small smile, satisfied that Cecelia would approve of her solution and her decision to withhold what she knew of Aimee. Deep down, Millie knew the truth, but it did not lessen her need to be active, especially while estranged from her husband. “Clive Langdon owns a tavern frequented by dock workers. He usually has two women working for him at night, but Clarice married and moved back north to be closer to family. So he needs someone to take her place. While gruff and demanding, he is a good man and protects the women working for him. Dock workers know this, but they still frequent his place because Clive is honest and used to be one of them. But it’s still a boozing ken and that makes it dangerous and open to a fair share of trouble.”
“I understand. I’ll avoid what I can, but I can defend myself if necessary.”
Sasha exhaled, knowing Millie was not boasting but speaking the tr
uth. She also knew that Millie had never had to defend herself against these kinds of men. They were rough, strong, and all too often single-minded when it came to their more carnal desires. “You will also have to lose some of the refinement that comes from being of Quality.”
Millie grimaced. “Evette hinted at the same thing. I tried, but it seems I cannot erase years of habits just because I will it. I thought I would say I was a governess. That would explain my speech and mannerisms, would it not?”
“Then why are you not still a governess?”
“Maybe I could say that I was accused of stealing or—”
Sasha raised her hand to keep Millie from continuing. “When asked, just tell them you had no choice but to seek other employment.”
“But won’t people assume—”
“Da. Let them be curious and create tales about just why and how you came into their world. It is the only way they might accept you despite that you are unmistakably gentry,” Sasha replied. She was about to open the parlor doors when she stopped and asked, “Are you sure?”
Millie outstretched her hand and placed it on Sasha’s arm, giving it a slight squeeze. “I thought you believed in taking bold action, even if the risks were high.”
Sasha cupped Millie’s cheek in her hand. “This is no adventure you are planning, little one. And I do believe in taking bold action, regardless of the risks, when the reason is right.”
“Saving Aimee . . . saving my marriage . . . are these not the right reasons?”
Sasha shook her head. Her young friend had much to learn, just as she had. “I cannot say. This is a path you alone must choose and follow. I once was in love. And like you and your Charles, we had to do and learn things the hard way. I wonder, though, if it was the best way. Now come, and let me introduce you to your housemates.”
Sasha opened the doors and walked down to the end of the dim hallway. To the left was the back room, which housed a chaotic collection of materials. To the right, however, was another hallway Millie had never been down. At the end, Sasha waved her hand for Millie to push open the two old, dark, wooden doors that acted as the passageway to the rest of the home.
Millie’s lavender eyes grew large as she crossed the threshold. On the other side was another world, one she never would have guessed existed. The building’s true size was masked from the street with its narrow front and single large red door. Unlike the parlor and front hallways, which were lined in dark woods and deep maroons and navy blues, this large gathering room was decorated in bright colors, welcoming all who entered. The obviously well-used furniture was large and looked so comfortable that it invited one to come in, sit down, and talk. Millie felt the urge to truly smile for the first time since Aimee had left.
Touching Millie’s arm to regain her attention, Sasha said, “One last promise between us, and this one is not just with me, but with all who live here. I want your solemn vow that you will not speak of this house and those who dwell in it. Their lives are private, as is yours. In return, I will guard your identity and your reasons for being here. Agreed?”
Millie nodded and with tears in her eyes, she gave Sasha a hug. “Thank you so much. This just has to work.”
Sasha patted her on the back, returning the embrace. “It will be up to you, my young friend, to build goodwill with those in the house. Their friendship is not mine to give. It has to be earned.”
Millie nodded. “I understand.”
Sasha released her and with a wink said, “Het, I do not think you do, but neither did I when I was young.”
Not understanding, Millie was about to ask for clarification when Sasha stared at a foot dangling off the end of a settee. “Stuart, is that you?”
A quick but grumbled reply came from the back of the room as a brown-haired figure pushed himself up to peer over the edge of the divan. “Who else would it be?”
Ignoring the saucy attitude, Sasha replied, “I believe you know . . .”
“Ellie,” Millie filled in.
“That’s right. Ellie. She’s an old friend who will be staying in the upstairs spare bedroom across from Susan.”
Stuart crinkled his brow and his hazel eyes took a long look at Millie. “Bloody hell, that banbury youse told me about her livin’ ’ere now was true?”
“Indeed,” Sasha answered crisply. “And from now on, you will know her only as Ellie. Understand?” Seeing him roll his eyes but give an affirmative nod, she added, “Please show her to her room.”
Stuart scowled, but Sasha was unfazed. “Since you seem to be in the mood to help, why don’t you show her the way to Clive’s tomorrow morning as well.”
Afraid of what else he would be asked to do, Stuart rolled off the couch and onto his feet. Grabbing a book off the cushion, he came around, ready to guide Millie but not hiding any of his displeasure in having to do so. Long-limbed and tall, his body looked older than his face, which only now hinted at the ability to grow whiskers. “She going to work at Six Belles? You must be cork-brained.” Sasha issued him an icy stare. Stuart recoiled slightly before recovering, puffing his chest out. “I’m not wantin’ to pull caps with you. I’m just voicin’ me opinion is all. I mean, it’s rather saucy to think of gentry workin’ for Clive.”
“Clive is not to know she’s a noble,” Sasha instructed.
Stuart looked Millie up and down and rolled his eyes again. “He’s no flat. He’ll know she’s somethin’.” Then with a huff he told her to come on.
Millie followed his back into the passageway and up a narrow set of stairs. In his hand, she spied the book he was carrying and finally made out the title. An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith. Millie was surprised. Chase had the same book. She had looked at it once and it had given her a headache. Economics was a difficult concept, and she would not have thought Stuart educated enough to understand it.
“’Ere’s the room. I’ll meet youse in the kitchens in the mornin’ to take you to Clive’s.”
He was about to leave when Millie asked, “Stuart, do the others know who I am?”
“Evette. Doubt anyone else cares much who ya are.”
“Then please don’t tell them or anyone.”
For a young man, Stuart looked genuinely affronted. “Cry rope?” He sneered. “Nobles talk about honor, but we workin’ poor live by it, ’cause it is all we ’ave. We don’t ’ave titles, lots of blunt, and own more than one place to ’ide in when things go bad.” He stopped in a huff and was about to walk away when he gave her an odd look. “Guess they must ’ave gone pretty bad to be willin’ to work in a lushery.”
Millie fought to hide the fear his words instilled in her and recapture her courage.
She had been chased by evil, survived nearly being drowned, and looked malevolence in the eye. Just how bad could a few dockworkers be?
Chapter 13
October 21, 1816
Millie grasped the doorknob to her bedroom and hesitated before leaving. Resting her forehead against the painted wood, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and once more suppressed the urge to go and see Chase. Her body longed for his touch and his comfort, but her heart suffered the most. If she looked at him and saw any pain, anguish, or proof that he was not sleeping or eating as he should, Millie doubted if she had the strength to keep from running into his arms. But would he welcome her?
“You know he would,” Millie whispered aloud. Despite what had transpired that awful night, Chase loved her and she loved him. But she also knew he would just try to sequester her again using different means. No, she had to stay away, at least for now.
Millie took another deep breath, straightened, and opened the door. Pasting what she hoped to be a sincere-looking smile on her face, she began to make her way to the kitchen, unaware that she was nervously swinging her plainest bonnet by its wine-colored ties. She felt apprehensive about the day and asked herself what Mother Wentworth would do.
Though her mother-in-law had divulged only snippets of her own
adventurous past, it was enough to know she had emerged from some rather scandalous schemes unscathed. But Millie wondered if she would approve of her plan. Any objection would concern the potential danger, but Millie deep down believed that Mother Wentworth would have supported her.
Deep in thought, Millie rounded the bottom stair and almost collided with Evette, who was headed in the opposite direction, carrying several yards of material. “Good morning.”
Startled, Evette mumbled “Good morning” as she took a step back and cast an eye over Millie’s appearance.
Millie arched a curious brow. “Is there something wrong with the way I look?”
Evette had no idea how to answer the question. Millie had fluffed and woven her dark brown hair into a large, broad chignon at the base of her neck, with one twisted lock wrapped around her head. While the design was significantly more modest than the styles she normally wore, it was far from a basic, secured knot. Her dress had similar problems. Though Millie probably thought it quite plain, Evette was at a loss for words to explain why it was not. The gold-tone, long-sleeved cambric day dress was plain—for a noble. However, the woolen, pleated, eggplant-colored pelisse that was hanging over Millie’s arm made the outfit quite stunning. All together, it provided unmistakable evidence of her affluent background.
Evette sighed and shook her head, glad Millie was at least not wearing even the simplest of jewelry. She was about to continue walking, when she realized Millie had been coming from the stairs, not the kitchens. “Are you just now coming down to break your fast?”
Millie nodded, and with a smile proceeded toward the kitchens. Evette watched in awe. Then, with a roll of her eyes, she shook her head and continued on her way, wondering if all noblewomen were as clueless. Evette predicted there would be one less for dinner tonight, for if Millie survived the morning, it would be a miracle.
Surprised she felt so hungry so early in the morning, Millie made her way down the hallway to the kitchen area. Like the gathering room, it was surprisingly large. The majority of the space was dedicated to cooking, but near the far wall was an enormous square table. It was surrounded by wooden benches, which provided enough seats for all those living in the house to sit and eat.
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