The Langley Sisters Collection 2

by Wendy Vella

  Don’t think about it, Hannah, she reminded herself. No good could come of reliving every wonderful minute of the night she had spent with Alex. Was he aware she had left?

  “Is that so?” The woman braced an arm on the counter as if she was settling in for a nice chat. “Does she work in one of those London places, where the nobs only wear one dress and then discard it?”

  “Indeed she does.” Hannah focused on the woman so she did not have to think about what she had lost this day. “Madame Al-Alana’s to be exact. Wonderful place,” Hannah added. “The best in London.”

  “I’ve not heard of Madame Alana’s, only the House of Monique,” the woman said, as if she was an expert on all matters pertaining to fashion. “Heard the ton get their dresses made there.”

  “No indeed.” Hannah waved her hand about. “The House of Monique’s clothes are hideous and terribly outdated.”

  “Well I never,” the woman said. “You certainly look lovely in that blue.”

  “Thank you, it is one of my favorite colors and the velvet so soft.” Hannah held out the edge of her coat and the woman rubbed it between her fingers.

  “Oooh, it is grand.”

  “Do you have a room free for this evening, Mrs…?” Hannah attempted to refocus the woman’s attention to what she needed.

  “Name’s Letty, dear, and I go by no other name.”

  “And I am Heather, Letty.”

  “You talk as a governess should, Heather.” Letty leaned closer to study her. “All proper like.”

  “My mother was a ladies’ maid, and w-we lived in a great house and I grew up with the daughter, and we had lessons together.” Mother of God, Hannah, be quiet.

  “Aye, well that makes a deal of sense then. Now you come with me, Heather, and I’ll get you nice and settled and you can have dinner with me and the family. It’d be nice to hear some news from London in that posh voice of yours. It’ll be like sharing my table with royalty.”

  “Oh I don’t want to intrude,” Hannah said. In fact, what she wanted was a tray in her room, where she would sit in solitude and mourn what she had lost.

  “Won’t be intruding, Heather, and I’ll not take no from you.”

  “Well then,” she said when nothing else came to her. Gripping her bags, she followed Letty’s faded brown skirts as they swayed left and right up the stairs. Her room overlooked the courtyard and had a bed big enough for two, a small chair, table, and washbasin. “I shall be most obliged to you for sharing your table with me,” Hannah added, because there was little else she could do, and the prospect of spending time in solitude was not a pleasant one, for all that had been her intention.

  “Oh this is lovely, thank you so much, Letty,” Hannah lied, looking around the small space at the dust and dirt and the cracked mirror hanging crooked on the wall. “I shall be most comfortable here until the stage comes tomorrow.”

  “We’ll be eating shortly, so you get yourself settled and come downstairs.”

  Hannah nodded and Letty left the room, closing the door behind her. She took off her bonnet, coat, and gloves, placing them neatly over the chair. Pulling back the covers, she smelt damp, so pulled them back up and decided to sleep on the top with her coat for a blanket.

  A wave of misery swept over her as she looked in the small cracked mirror to tidy her hair. She had been gone less than a day and already missed Alex and her family dreadfully. Was this to be her life? Would she long for them every day, or would that ease given time?

  “But at least they are safe,” she reminded herself.

  Leaving the room, she made her way downstairs, but could find no sign of Letty. Entering the taproom, she found it filled with customers, some of whom she was sure would be joining her on the stage tomorrow. After a quick survey, Hannah was relieved to see no familiar faces. There was always the possibility of meeting someone she knew, but she would deal with that it if happened.

  “Good day to you.”

  Startled to be addressed by a man she had not been introduced to, Hannah nodded. “Good day.”

  “Are you travelling on the stage tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I am.” Where was Letty? She would ask the barkeep if he could direct her to their family quarters.

  “My name is Amon Smith, and this is my sister, Sarah.”

  “How do you do,” Hannah acknowledged the woman, and then prepared to walk around them.

  “If you are travelling alone, please feel free to join us for our meal.”

  Unused to receiving this type of offer from perfect strangers, Hannah felt totally at sea. Normally she was with her father and several servants, at the very least a maid, and people did not approach her.

  “Thank you kindly for your offer, but I have made other arrangements.” Hannah bobbed a curtsey and moved on. Should she go back to her room or attempt to find Letty? The prospect of others wanting to talk with her was not exactly daunting, but as she had no wish to continue with her lies unless necessary, Hannah thought her room the safest place.

  “Ma says to show you the way.”

  A young boy appeared at her side, and looking down at him Hannah saw he had the look of his mother about him, and the grubby unwashed air, but for all that he had a sweet smile.

  “Excellent. I am quite hungry,” Hannah admitted, and surprisingly she was. Running away from home was obviously hard work.

  The little inn was in need of paint, but the smells coming from the room she was approaching made her stomach rumble. Pushing open the door, the boy waved her through and Hannah came to a stop. Seated at the table were five people. Letty and her husband, who she introduced as Bill, a big, beefy-looking man with wisps of snow-white hair. His eyebrows matched and he was waving a chicken leg about while talking. Beside him was a woman about Hannah’s age, and beside her a young girl. Letty was on the other side, beside a young boy.

  “Heather, come and take a seat beside me, and Jim next to you.”

  “I will, thank you, and this is most kind of you all to allow me, a stranger, to share your table.”

  Bill laughed, a loud guffaw sound that seemed to bounce off the walls. “Do you hear them manners, my heathens? That is how the nobs do it.”

  “Oh now, really I’m not a—”

  “Don’t you pay my Jim no heed, Heather. He’s the biggest heathen of us all,” Letty said, smiling at her husband.

  They loved each other, Hannah realized. As the meal progressed, she saw that these wonderful people all cared about each other deeply. Their table manners made her shudder, and considering she shared a table with her sister, who had been and sometimes still could be a heathen, that was saying a great deal.

  They talked over the top of each other, stole food off each other’s plates, and talked with their mouths open. Hannah watched a large dollop of gravy settle on Jim’s chin, wobble, then fall to the tablecloth, which was now hopelessly soiled.

  “Will you read to us, Heather, once we’ve eaten Ma’s pudding?”

  The request came from the youngest child, Emma. She held her own admirably among the rest of the family, and even elbowed her sister to one side for the last portion of potato.

  “I… ah, well, I suppose if you wish me too,” Hannah said, wondering what she could read them, but knowing that she wanted to repay their generosity in some small way.

  The table was cleared, the cloth whisked away, and Jim lit up his pipe and the two youngest sat on his knee, while Joanne, the eldest child, collected the book. Hannah looked at the homely setting and felt a deep ache in her stomach. She wanted this: a family, children, and a husband to love, but in all likelihood would not get it. She thought of Alex. He would be a wonderful father, but who would be his wife?

  “What has put that sad look on your face, lass?”

  Bill was looking at her as if he could read Hannah’s thoughts. His children were playing on his lap, doing something with their hands, and she knew this was a nightly routine, and was pleased to have shared it briefly.

  “I
left someone I love behind in London,” Hannah said before she could stop herself.

  “You’ll be reunited again, Heather, you mark my words.”

  “I hope so,” Hannah whispered, wishing suddenly she could tell this man her real name.

  “True love,” Bill said, taking a deep pull on his pipe before releasing a cloud of spicy smelling smoke, “will not let you go once it has you in its grip, lass. It’s just the way of things. Once you have found it, it’ll always be there, and it won’t happen with another like this one.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I can tell by your eyes this man is special, lass. He has your heart, and you his. But I can also tell that you have something grave troubling you.”

  “Oh, I…” Hannah trailed off, not knowing what to say. The lies appeared to have dried up.

  “Everything will work out in the end, Heather, you have my word on that.”

  She was saved from further comment by the return of Joanne and Letty. The first with a book titled Robinson Crusoe, and Letty with mugs of tea.

  She sat there in that warm little parlor with Letty’s family and read the first few chapters. The family sat still and silent, listening. The children even clapped when she changed voices, and for that brief moment she felt as if maybe, just maybe Bill was right and everything would work out right. Tomorrow and two nights hence she may feel different, but right there and then, she believed it would.

  After the reading and her tea were finished, Hannah excused herself, thanking them profusely and giving Letty a pair of cream lace gloves. She then made her way upstairs to her room. She lay there listening to the sounds of revelry beneath, and thought how strange it was to feel desperately lonely with so many people just a few feet away.

  Chapter Twelve

  The stage arrived with a rattle of harnesses and stomp of hooves the following morning. She thanked Letty and her family, and promised to return if she could one day soon. Joanne handed her a small basket filled with food, which touched Hannah, and then she took her seat. The carriage was full, and she was pressed between an elderly man and a woman carrying a basket from which suspicious noises emanated.

  “I believe animals should be on the roof, madam,” Hannah said.

  “My boys travel with me,” the woman said, glaring at Hannah. Her face was narrow around which she had tied a scarf, and her lips formed a small tight circle.

  Hannah wondered what “my boys” were but was afraid to ask. She was not the squeamish type, having been raised on a farm, but she didn’t fancy some little creature sinking its teeth into her.

  “Well, just make sure they stay in that basket, if you please,” she said, turning to look out the window. She hoped someone, namely the basket-carrying woman, got off soon, and did not travel the entire way to Bristol.

  “Well,” the woman sniffed, then used the back of her hand to wipe her nose.

  Across from her sat two men, both watching the exchange, and a young boy.

  “Good morning.” Hannah nodded to the other occupants, and they in turn doffed their hats as the journey began.

  “Where you be bound, miss?” One of the men asked her.

  “Bristol,” Hannah said. “My father is an actor and has a travelling show. I am to join him.” She had noticed that her lies were becoming grander each time she uttered one.

  “Oooh, I love a good play,” the lady said, her animosity fleeing in the face of Hannah’s tall tale. “What’s his next one?”

  “The Tempest and I am to play the part of Miranda.”

  “That William Shakespeare was a right clever man.” The woman nodded wisely. “Me favorite’s Much Ado About Nothing.”

  “Indeed, it is a wonderful story.”

  She answered the questions and then asked a few of her own, and by the time they stopped for the night, the carriage’s occupants were familiar enough with each other to be on first-name terms, even if she was using a fake one.

  Stretching the cricks from her neck, Hannah let the other guests go inside and decided on a walk before joining them. Having been cramped inside the carriage for hours, she needed some fresh air. Looking skyward, she saw it would be dark soon, but there was enough time to make it down the road and back.

  The countryside was vastly different to London, and reminded Hannah what she loved about the land she had grown up on before her father came into his title. Sunset was a beautiful time of day anywhere, but here in the wide-open spaces it was more so. She inhaled the lovely earthy smells and enjoyed the clean air as she walked slowly, working some of the stiffness out of her legs. The sound of hooves approaching had her moving off the road and into the trees to her right. There was not a great deal of cover, but the dwindling light helped if she stood sideways behind the largest trunk. She did not believe it would be anyone searching for her, but would not risk it. She heard the rider gallop past, and then allowed herself a peek.

  Alex! She knew those shoulders and the style of that coat. What do I do? She looked around for inspiration, but her eyes met only more trees and grass, no epiphany. Panic sluiced through her. This was bad, very, very bad. Think, Hannah!

  On the second day after Hannah’s departure, Alex arrived at the Red Breast Inn frustrated, worried, and in a towering rage. The day he and Ben had left London his horse had thrown a shoe, forcing a delay that had chafed him badly. They had then stopped at every establishment offering accommodation on the way. At each, they had asked after Hannah, but had been told no one by that name had passed through. It was only at the fourth that Alex asked for a description of any women who had stopped there that day, and realized that Hannah was not using her real name.

  “She’s smart,” Ben had said, “but probably gave no consideration to the fact that there are not too many unaccompanied woman gadding about the English countryside speaking like a lady.”

  “At least we know what she is about now, and should find her soon,” Alex had said, sure in the knowledge he was right. However, it had not been that easy.

  At one posting house, they had questioned a woman called Letty, who in turn had told them that a sweet governess named Heather had stayed the night after eating with her family and reading them a story. He had pressed for a description and it had fitted Hannah. Alex had to admire her deception; there was no one thus far who doubted her story. Two of the proprietors had even said she was sweet natured, which just went to strengthen the adage that appearances were deceptive.

  “She’s the least sweet-natured person I know,” Alex had muttered after leaving Letty behind. Ben, sensibly, had remained silent.

  Alex had no idea why she had chosen Bristol, and Ben believed she had plucked the name out of her head and decided it would do. Knowing Hannah, Alex had to agree. When the road forked, they had decided they would cover more ground if they separated, not knowing if Hannah had got off the stage at some point, and would meet up again when they could.

  Tired, worried, and still simmering with anger, Alex dismounted at the Red Breast Inn behind the stagecoach. If Hannah had remained on the coach, she should be inside. She was cunning, however, so he could not afford to discount the possibility she would not be. Running a hand over his face, Alex prayed he would walk inside the door and find her. He needed to know she was well, because his stomach was twisted into knots after hours of imagining terrible scenarios that had befallen her.

  He’d realized over the miles he and his brother had travelled that Hannah was in his blood now. Implicating him in her charade had forced them closer together, but it was not until he had held her in his arms and tasted her sweet lips that he realized just what she had come to mean to him.

  “Good day to you, sir.” Alex took off his hat and nodded to the man he found tending the horses. “Are you the driver of this stagecoach?”

  “I am.”

  “Excellent. I’m seeking a passenger.”

  “They’re all inside eating their evening meal before retiring, sir.”

  “Is there a young
woman among them?” Alex pulled out several coins and handed them to the man. “Dark hair, blue coat and bonnet?” The woman he’d met called Letty had told him about Hannah’s coat and how fine it had been, because a friend of hers was a seamstress and had made if for her. One thing Alex had also learned about Miss Wooller was that she had excellent storytelling capabilities.

  “Yes, she’s on board.”

  “Thank you.” Alex looked to the door that would lead inside and thought about how Hannah would react when she saw him. He had to remain calm, talk to her rationally, because there was no doubt she would be upset. Walking toward the inn, he battled the need inside him, but seconds later he was running. Taking the steps in a single leap, he headed for the noise of several combined voices and entered the room. His eyes passed over each person, but of Hannah there was no sign and Alex felt his heart plunge back to his toes.

  “Who arrived on the stage?”

  “I did.” A man stepped forward.

  “The young woman who accompanied you here, where is she?”

  “Not sure. She got off the stage with us, but we haven’t seen her since, sir. Lovely lady, Helen was her name. Actress, and is heading north to join her father’s travelling show.”

  God’s blood, his head hurt, Alex thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. The other occupants of the room eyed him warily, and Alex guessed that was because his hands were clenched and he looked ready to beat the hell out of someone.

  “She’s playing Miranda in The Tempest,” another man said. “Is that the lady you’re after?”

  “The very one,” Alex snapped, then turned on his heel and stalked through the door, to begin checking every room, even the kitchens, for Hannah. When he had completed his search of the rooms upstairs he headed back outside.

  “Hannah!” He threw back his head and roared. “Show yourself at once!” It was a futile hope, Alex knew that, but still he was furious enough to try.

  “No sign of her then, sir?” A lady carrying a basket joined him. “For what it’s worth, you may be better off without her. She took me to task about carrying my boys in the coach. Right uppity, she was.”