Dreading what she might find, Ashley took the opportunity to look herself over thoroughly. With a profound sense of relief, she found no bruises, blood, or other sign of injury, and no rips or tears in her clothing. Not even dark circles under her eyes. She sat down heavily at the vanity and took slow, deep breaths to calm her racing heart. The only physical reminder of the frightening night was her sore stomach muscles. She clasped her hands together to stop their trembling. Her rescuer had arrived just in time.
Had she retched on his shoes? Who was her rescuer? Who was her hostess?
The day was advancing. She’d find out nothing more staying here, no matter how inviting the room. She quickly performed morning ablutions, brushed out her once elaborate but now sadly mussed hairdo, pinned it up in a simple twist, and followed the scent of food to the dining room. At a gesture from her hostess, who had changed into a morning gown and her silver hair combed into a neat chignon, Ashley filled her plate at the sideboard and sat down.
“Who—” she began, but her hostess held up her hand.
“A friend saw that you were in distress last night and brought you here. That is all any of us need to know.”
A friend. Whose name she did not know.
Which made two friends she’d apparently made last night, on a first name and a no-name basis. A third friend, if she counted this woman with silver hair and kind face. Madame Zavrina would be appalled at the lack of adherence to Society’s rules.
“Once you’ve eaten, and assuming you feel strong enough, my footman will summon a hackney for you and pay the fare. I suggest you have the driver drop you off a few doors away from your ultimate destination.”
At the thought of going home, Ashley panicked. What did Aunt Eunice and Uncle Edward think had happened to her? They must be frantic with worry. “That … sounds wise.”
“I’ll give you a cloak I’ve been meaning to pass along. Keep the hood up until you get indoors.” She paused before taking a sip of chocolate. “The woman you were with last night, in the purple turban, was told you went home with friends because you had a headache.”
Ashley let out a relieved breath. “That was kind of … him.”
‘“He didn’t want an alarm raised any more than you would.”
Ashley and her hostess shared a small smile, silently acknowledging that her rescuer didn’t want to be considered as having compromised her. If no one else knew what happened except her mystery rescuer, this woman, and Sir Rupert, had she actually been compromised?
How would she face Sir Rupert now? Would he dare accost her again?
At least, she thought Sir Rupert was who had taken her out to the garden and tried to force himself on her. Her memory after escorting her new friend Georgia to her mother was spotty at best.
Ashley was surprised at how hungry she felt, and helped herself to a second plate and a cup of chocolate. Of course she was hungry. Her stomach was empty because last night she had cast up her accounts. She set her cup down with a thud.
“Laudanum,” she whispered, feeling the color drain from her face.
“Hmm?”
“Laudanum. Makes me horribly sick, so I haven’t taken any in years. I didn’t recognize the taste when Sir R—when an unwanted suitor put some in my punch.”
“At a ball in Mayfair.” Her hostess shook her head in disgust. “Providence indeed smiled on you last night for my … for your new friend to realize what was happening.” She clucked her tongue and stepped from the room. Ashley heard murmured words exchanged in the hall, then the woman came back to the table and resumed eating.
If Ashley was still in danger, she’d rather deal with it on a full stomach, so she ate the rest of the delicious food on her plate. As she drained the last of the rich chocolate from her cup, a maid entered and bobbed a curtsy. She draped the dark blue cloak on her arm over a chair back and left again just as quickly.
“Don’t take this as a hint. I simply want you to feel free to leave whenever you’re ready.”
“I appreciate your kindness.” Her appetite appeased, Ashley began to worry how she was going to fend off questions from Aunt Eunice that she couldn’t answer, even if she knew the information.
She rose, and her hostess helped her settle the cloak about her shoulders. Made of a wonderfully soft wool, it undoubtedly had begun life as a costly garment though it was beginning to show signs of wear. They stepped into the hall. When she would have turned for the front door, her hostess steered her toward the back.
“Oh, almost forgot.” She retrieved something from a side table drawer and held it out.
Ashley’s paisley silk shawl, in red, cream, and blue.
“Keep it hidden until you get home. This cloak looks like hundreds of others, but that shawl is distinctive.”
Please trust that I am trying to help, he had said while she perched on his knee, just before he tugged the filmy shawl from her shoulders. Ashley nodded and clutched it in her hand.
“I don’t even know your name,” Ashley said as they traversed the garden at the back of the townhouse. A hackney was already in the mews, the horse stamping its hooves. “How can I repay you, at least for the coach fare?”
“No need. Help someone else. That is all the repayment I desire.”
