EscapeWithMe Read Online Free PDF

it?”
    “Nothing really,” she fibbed. She prayed that Mrs. Hayes
wouldn’t ask her to open it, but it wasn’t Sam’s lucky day.
    “May I take a peek? I adore lockets,” Mrs. Hayes said. Sam
wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. The woman was making every effort to
invade her privacy, but refusing to open the locket would make her even nosier.
Sam reluctantly picked up the locket and opened its face.
    There was nothing inside. The blood left Sam’s face and she
was grateful she didn’t shriek or otherwise freak out.
    “Ah, I see you were quite truthful, Miss Samantha. Perhaps
soon you’ll have a secret or two to hide?” Mrs. Hayes said with a wink. Sam was
able to nod but couldn’t bring herself to speak. Her heart was more than
pounding—it was practically jack-hammering. Where was the slip of paper? Had it
fallen out when she had last looked at it? When would she get a chance to
search for it?
    The servants returned with the final pitcher of hot water.
After a few more measurements—and another exclamation regarding the length of
her legs—Sam was allowed to step into the tub. She pulled off her socks and
hurriedly sloughed her last meager layer of protection. She hissed and nearly
pulled her foot out when she found out just how hot the water was, but she made
herself get in.
    Mrs. Hayes and Ann left with a promise to return once Mrs.
Hayes had sent off the dress with the apparently indispensable Mr. Hull. The
servant stayed behind and offered to wash her limbs for her. Sam declined and
did it herself. To finish, she leaned forward, put her head underwater, and
rubbed her hair and scalp for as long as she could hold her breath. When she
sat up for air, a fresh pitcher of nearly scalding water was dumped onto her
head. She yelped and nearly leapt out of the tub.
    “P-pardon me,” Mary said. “I thought you wanted the rinse.”
    Sam hurriedly pushed her sopping hair away from her face,
needing to see that Mary wasn’t holding a knife or something. “Where did the
other girl go?”
    “She went downstairs. I brought the rinse.” Mary set the
pitcher on the floor. “You’re a very…clean woman. I’m not clean myself. Hot
water won’t wash me clean.”
    Sam swallowed, crossing her arms across her bust. “Uh…”
    “What’s your name? The one watching us won’t tell me.”
    She almost didn’t want to say. “Samantha Reed.”
    “Reed,” Mary said loudly as if it were an epiphany. Then she
repeated it over and over. After ten iterations, she seemed to give up. “I’m
Mary Powlett.”
    “Really? I met a Peter Powlett today on the street.” Mary
gasped and crouched next to her. Sam squashed herself against the opposite side
of the tub.
    “You did? Was he a boy about fourteen?” Sam nodded at her
question. Mary’s expression lifted into one of relief and joy. “How did he
look? Was his mind clean?”
    Sam spoke past the heart in her throat, starting to understand.
“He looked fine. A little skinny, but he was fine.” Sam wondered if she should
tell Mary of his thievery. “Are you his sister?”
    Mary shook her head hard. She opened her mouth to answer,
but then seemed to think better of it and said nothing.
    Sam’s jaw dropped. “But you’re so young.” The servant didn’t
look more than thirty at the most. Mary shook her head again and stood. Peter
had said that he lived with his parents in Whitechapel though. Was Sam
mistaken?
    “Already washed? Lovely,” Mrs. Hayes crowed. She entered the
room with Ann. “Out of that tub. We must get you dry and into the proper negligee.”
She wiggled her fingers. “Then we shall take tea in the salon, Miss Samantha.
I’m quite parched myself.” Mary was quick to get a towel. Once Sam had wrapped
it around herself, Mary draped a second one over her shoulders and Mrs. Hayes
beckoned her into the hall. Mary stayed behind to help Ann take her own bath.
    “Mary’s a good girl,” Mrs. Hayes commented as they climbed
the stairs. “A bit