A Most Dangerous Profession(31)

Lady Anne must have noticed that Moira’s teeth were clenched, for the older lady looked uneasy. “He said he wouldn’t be long—just a week or a little more.”

“Ha! With the roads the way they are? He’s mad.”

“Oh, dear.” Lady Anne fidgeted with the brocade trim on one of her sleeves. “I do hope—”

Firtha returned and handed a neatly addressed note to Moira.

She ripped it open.


Moira,



I’m off to fetch the onyx box. I’ll return as soon as possible and we’ll make plans to retrieve Rowena. Rest easy; come what may, I shall not allow Ross to keep the artifact. Aniston’s fate, too, is sealed, though he does not know it.



I know you would have preferred to travel along for this adventure, but I work better on my own. In the meantime, stay with the squire and his wife. I shall bring another coach with me for our return to Edinburgh.



Yours,

Hurst


Moira refolded the letter, resisting the unladylike temptation to wad it into a ball and stomp it into flatness.

Lady Anne cleared her throat. “I hope the letter explains everything to your satisfaction.”

Moira tucked the note into the pocket of her gown and managed to say fairly calmly, “Hurst has continued on our journey and will see about hiring another coach, since we lost one of ours.”

“Ah. I suppose that explains why he took all of the horses with him.”

Moira’s teacup was halfway to her lips, but at that, she lowered it. “I’m sorry, did you say . . . he took all of the horses?”

“Yes. And all of the footmen and coachmen, too.” Lady Anne’s brow lowered. “I still can’t believe we didn’t hear them! That’s quite a retinue.”

Moira managed a smile, though it cost her dearly. Oh, the things she’d have to say to Robert the next time she saw him. She didn’t know exactly when that would be, but it would be far sooner than he thought.

“There, there,” Lady Anne said bracingly. “Don’t look so gloomy. You needn’t fear that you’ll languish here while waiting for your husband.” Lady Anne patted Moira’s hand, as if conferring a treat upon a child. “The squire and I are quite well thought of in the neighborhood, and we’re planning a quiet little dinner party for your amusement once you feel more the thing. We won’t have dancing—I fear that would tire you too much—just a nice, snug little dinner party and some music. Mrs. MacDunnon’s oldest daughter is coming. She recently returned from Rome, where she took singing lessons from La Cabrini!”

On and on Lady Anne went, describing in endless detail all of the things she thought would amuse a woman of the world, which she plainly thought Moira to be. Though she longed to scream, Moira murmured, “How delightful!” at appropriate intervals.

Lady Anne took this for encouragement. While her hostess babbled on, Moira planned her escape. If Robert thought he could just leave her behind, he was a fool.

She interrupted, “I beg your pardon, Lady Anne, but I think I should return to my bed.”

“Oh, dear! It’s your first day up and you must be tired, yet here I’m babbling on and on.” Lady Anne stood. “I’ll leave you to rest. If you want anything, just ring the bell and Firtha will see to it.”

“Thank you. That’s so kind of you, but I think I’ll sleep for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Very well, my dear. If you’re up to it, we dine at seven.”

“I look forward to meeting the squire. Do you think I might have a bath before dinner?”

“Of course! I’ll send one up now and Firtha will come back at six to help you dress. No late city hours for us here in the country!” With an arch look Lady Anne finally left, Firtha following with the luncheon tray.

Moira waited for the door to close. Then she crossed to the wardrobe, collected a small trunk, and placed it on the bed. It was a large and heavy case, made with iron bands and a heavy wood bottom, all covered with leather. She reached inside, flipped two hidden latches, and removed a thin false bottom. Inside was a complete suit of clothing befitting a gentleman of fashion, a dark wig, a packet of hairpins, and a fat pouch of coins.

She counted the coins, replaced the items, and returned the portmanteau to the wardrobe floor. Perhaps Robert had done her a favor. A lady of fashion traveling in a coach would need two days to reach her destination. A gentleman on a good horse traveling ventre à terre could make the same trip much quicker.