A Lady of Notoriety (The Masquerade Club) Read Online Free PDF Page A

tell him the truth or better to hide the truth and not upset him?
    Daphne paced back and forth. It would only be two weeks until his bandages came off and he’d be on his way. She stopped and placed her hands on her cheeks.
    Unless he was blind.
    Please, dear God. Let him not be blind!
    She shook her head. Who was she to pray?
    She, Carter and Monette simply must take the best care of him. Not upset him. Give him the best chance to heal.
    Perhaps the dear abbess would intercede with God for him on Daphne’s behalf. And perhaps the abbess would forgive her if she did not tell the truth this time. No real harm in him thinking she was merely Mrs Asher for such a little while. Feeling only slightly guilty, Daphne strolled around to the front of the cottage.
    Two young women approached from the road and quickened their pace when they saw her.
    ‘Beg pardon, ma’am. Are you Mrs Asher?’ They looked no more than fifteen years, each of them.
    ‘I am Mrs Asher,’ she responded.
    ‘We’ve come looking for work, ma’am,’ one said. ‘Mr Brill, the agent, told us you might be needing some help in the cottage—’
    ‘We can do whatever you need,’ the other broke in. ‘We’re strong girls. Mr Brill will vouch for us.’
    Both were simply dressed and their clothing looked very old and worn. In fact, their gowns hung on them.
    ‘We need work very bad, ma’am,’ the first girl said. ‘We’ll do anything.’
    ‘I am not sure...’ Daphne bit her lip. Would it be right to hire maids to work in a house where she would stay for only two weeks?
    ‘Please, Mrs Asher,’ the second girl said. ‘We can show you how good we work. Give us a chance.’
    What difference did it make to her? She had plenty of money to pay them. It was the easiest thing in the world to say yes. Besides, the abbess would say she’d done a good thing.
    ‘Very well, girls,’ she said. ‘Follow me. If Mrs Pitts approves, you may become our new maids of all work.’
    They could deliver the meals to Mr Westleigh. Daphne would be able to avoid him altogether. Then it would not matter who he thought she was.

Chapter Three
    H ugh lost his battle to stay awake. He had no idea how long he slept, but he woke again to darkness.
    Cursed eyes!
    Was it day or night? Was he alone or was someone in the room?
    Was she here?
    He remained still and strained to hear the sounds of someone moving, someone breathing.
    It was so quiet.
    The hiss of the fireplace; otherwise, silence. Was anyone near? Would they hear him if he called out for help?
    Although he’d be damned if he’d call out for help.
    Or for water.
    His throat was parched with thirst. There must be water somewhere in the room. She must have left some for him.
    He climbed out of bed, not as steady on his feet as he might wish. The carpet on the floor was soft and cool on his bare feet. Carefully, he started from right next to the bed, groping—and finding—a side table. He ran his hand over the table’s surface. No water. Merely a candlestick—certainly an item for which he had no need.
    He groped past the table and bumped into a wooden chair. He backed away and knocked the table onto the floor. The carpet muffled the sound. No one would be roused by the noise.
    Crouching, he felt around for the table, found it and righted it. The candlestick must have rolled away. Useless to search for it anyway.
    Moving cautiously again, he made his way past the chair. With the wall as his guide, he inched his way towards the fireplace, feeling the fire’s heat grow stronger as he neared. His hand found the mantel. His toes smashed against the hearth.
    He backed away and found more chairs and another table upon which there was a book. Another item for which he had no use.
    Continuing, he discovered a door. It was a dressing room, smelling of dust, its shelves empty. He closed the door and his fingers felt along the wall until he came to another door. The door to the hallway. He turned the latch and opened the door