The Maid of Fairbourne Hall Read Online Free PDF

her door already?
    Muffled sobbing. What in the world? She crossed to her dressing room and opened the door. Joan slumped against the wall, her pale face blotchy beneath auburn fringe and white cap, her light eyes streaming tears.
    â€œWhat is it?” Margaret asked, but dread prickled through her, as if she already knew the answer. Had Marcus . . . ?
    â€œIt’s Mr. Benton. He accused me of taking money from his dressing room. But I never did, miss. I never!”
    Margaret’s mouth went dry. Her stomach knotted. “I am sorry, Joan. I don’t know what to say.”
    Joan’s round eyes beseeched hers. “You believe me, don’t you?”
    Margaret pressed her lips together. “Yes.”
    Something in Joan’s expression shifted. Her brows lowered and she stared at Margaret with disconcerting directness.
    Margaret looked away first.
    Joan said, “He told me to leave straightaway, but I snuck up here to see you. I hoped you might believe me and write me a character. I won’t get another post without one.”
    Margaret’s mind spun. She had no time to be writing letters. Not now. “I know nothing of character references, Joan. Though I would be happy to vouch for you . . . sometime.”
    Joan frowned. “It was you what took the money, wasn’t it?”
    Margaret swallowed back the guilt churning her innards like spoilt cod. How had Joan guessed? She was usually a better actress than that. “It was only a few coins. I never intended for you to take the blame.”
    The tears in Joan’s eyes sparked into anger. “And who else would be blamed when the money turned up missing? It’s always the maid.”
    â€œI thought . . . I hoped he would not notice.”
    â€œA man like him?”
    â€œIt was foolish. I see that now.”
    â€œBut you won’t go and tell him it wasn’t me who took it, will you?”
    Margaret hesitated, then shook her head. “I am afraid not. Not yet. I cannot let him know I have any money.”
    Joan’s face mottled red and white. “Of all the bacon-brained lies . . .”
    Margaret reeled. “How dare you? How ungrateful—”
    â€œMe ungrateful?” The cords in Joan’s throat stuck out. “What have you ever done for me? It’s me what’s done for you all these months, up working before you rise and after you’re in bed. And for what? To get the sack for taking money you stole!”
    The venom in her maid’s voice shocked her. She had never known Joan felt this way about her.
    An idea struck Margaret and she changed tack. “Where will you go?”
    Joan sniffed. “To my sister’s. Not that you care.”
    â€œI do care. I . . . I want to come with you.”
    Joan’s brow puckered. “With me ? Have you any idea where I’m going?”
    â€œYour sister’s, I believe you said.”
    â€œMy sister, who lives in a run-down tenement in Billingsgate? You’ve never ventured into such a neighborhood, I’d wager. And with good reason.”
    â€œLet me go with you. I need to leave. Now. But I cannot go anywhere alone at night. It is not safe.”
    â€œIt’s not safe where I’m going either.”
    â€œWe shall be safer together,” Margaret insisted. “Look, I only took that money because I needed it to escape.”
    â€œEscape? Why should you need to escape?” Joan’s lip curled. “Mr. Benton won’t buy the new silk stockings you set your heart on?”
    Goodness. Now that Joan had no post to protect, she allowed her tongue free rein. Margaret bit back an angry retort of her own and said earnestly, “No, I need to escape because I fear for my virtue.”
    Joan’s eyebrows rose. “Young Mr. Benton?”
    Margaret nodded.
    â€œIf it’s unwanted attention he’s giving you, tell his uncle.”
    â€œWho do you