Page 9 of Lady Maybe

Hannah went upstairs to the nursery to talk to Becky. To begin easing the way toward their inevitable departure. But when she entered, she found Mrs. Turrill in the room as well, Danny in her arms, bouncing him gently and smiling into his face.

Becky turned as she entered. “Good day, Miss Hannah.”

Hannah froze. She locked stunned gazes with Becky, and the girl’s face paled.

Mrs. Turrill turned to frown at the young nurse. Whatever she saw on Becky’s face made her frown deepen. “Why do you call Lady Mayfield ‘Miss Hannah’?”

Becky stood there blinking, mouth ajar.

“We don’t call our betters by their Christian names, unless we’ve been invited to do so. Besides, I believe Lady Mayfield’s given name is Marianna.”

Becky faltered, “I ... I forgot.”

Hannah’s mind rushed to formulate a plausible explanation. “Did she say Hannah?” she asked lightly. “I thought she said, ‘Anna.’ Short for Marianna, perhaps, or ... was Anna the name of your little girl, Becky? Were you thinking of her and said her name by mistake?”

Now Mrs. Turrill’s perplexed frown shifted to her.

Hannah’s pulse pounded. What a muddle.

“Anna?” Becky murmured, as if trying the name on her tongue and seeing how it tasted. “Anna is a pretty name and would ’ave suited her. Never saw a more beautiful creature than my wee girl.”

“And you will see her again, Becky. In heaven,” Hannah soothed. “She’s in God’s care now, well and happy.”

“How can she be happy? Without me?” Becky’s chin quivered.

Oh dear. She had said the wrong thing. Hannah added quickly, “Because she knows she will see you again someday. How she must look forward to it.”

“Then perhaps I should join her soon,” the girl said. “Perhaps I—”

“No, Becky. Never say so. We need you here , Danny and I.”

“And I,” Mrs. Turrill added earnestly. “Like my own daughter you are.”

Becky turned to the woman, wide-eyed. “Really? How kind you are, Mrs. Turrill. Never was my own mum half so kind as you are. Though I oughtn’t to speak ill of the dead, I know.”

“Come now, Becky dear. Let us speak of only happy things for the rest of the day, shall we?” Mrs. Turrill squeezed her arm. “And you may be the first to taste my fresh batch of marmalade.”

“May I? Oh, thank you.”

Hannah released a ragged breath. A second noose dodged in as many days. Though the speculative look in Mrs. Turrill’s eyes had unsettled Hannah. She wasn’t sure the housekeeper had been fooled.

Stepping from the room, Hannah nearly ran into Mrs. Parrish in the passage. Oh no. Her heart sank. How long had the woman been standing there?

“Just letting you know I’m heading into the village, if you need anything.” She glanced through the door at Becky and then back again.

Hannah forced a smile. “No, we have all we need, thank you.”

Mrs. Parrish nodded and turned toward the stairs, leaving Hannah to wonder how much the doctor’s wife had overheard.

Either way, Hannah knew it was time to plan their escape, arm healed or not.

Part of her dreaded the prospect of setting off for an unknown future. Another part of her was as anxious to leave as a goose with its neck stretched on the chopping block.

Over the next two days, Hannah took in the waist of one of Marianna’s spencer jackets to fit her, and discreetly began gathering the things she would take when they left—only necessities and as few of Marianna’s belongings as possible. If her own things had not been lost, she would take nothing for herself that had not belonged to her. But she could not leave without proper clothes. Besides, Marianna no longer had need of them.

The next afternoon, Mrs. Turrill knocked and announced through the closed door, “There’s a man to see Sir John, my lady.”

Hannah’s nerves jangled in alarm—had Mr. Fontaine returned? With her shoe, Hannah nudged the partially filled valise under the bed and went to open the door. She gestured Mrs. Turrill inside and closed the door behind her.

“The same man as before?” she asked.

“No. A Mr. James Lowden.”

Lowden? The name rang a distant bell in Hannah’s memory, but she could not place it. Surely it wasn’t anyone of their acquaintance. Had not Sir John kept their destination a secret? Of course, Mr. Fontaine had managed to find them, and fairly quickly.

“Did you tell him why Sir John is unable to receive him?”

“No, my lady. I thought it best coming from you.”

She wondered if this Mr. Lowden was acquainted with Lady Mayfield.

“Please tell Mr. Lowden Sir John is unable to receive him at present and ask his business, if you please.”

Mrs. Turrill hesitated, a slight frown creasing her brow, likely wondering why her mistress didn’t ask him herself, but too polite to ask. “Very well, my lady.”

While the housekeeper was gone, Hannah paced. Now what? Why hadn’t she left earlier as she knew she should have?

Mrs. Turrill returned a few minutes later and handed her a calling card. “Says he’s Sir John’s solicitor. From Bristol.”

Hannah’s thoughts whirled. Had Sir John informed his solicitor of their whereabouts? Or had the accident been reported in the newspaper and the man had come on his own initiative? She asked, “How did he hear of the accident?”

“I don’t think he has. Says he’s come on some matters of business. He seemed confused when I told him Sir John was unable to receive him, and asked to see you instead. By the way, he rode his own horse, over two days. Ben’s tending to it in the stables. Heaven knows if there’s even any feed in there. We shall have to borrow some from the Parrishes....”

But Hannah wasn’t really listening. Instead, she stared down at the card, heart thumping hard.

James Lowden

Messrs. Lowden did you not receive it?”

She shook her head. “We’ve received no post since we’ve been here, that I know of.”

“How strange. I wrote to apprise him of when I would arrive and to thank him for his invitation to stay at Clifton.” He gestured to a leather saddle valise in the corner.

Hannah hesitated, then swallowed nervously. “Well then, of course you must stay here. I will ask Mrs. Turrill to prepare one of the guest rooms. I should warn you that we have only minimal staff at present. With the accident, we have yet to engage more.”

“It’s not a problem; I am used to doing for myself. But I don’t wish to trouble you. If it is not convenient, I suppose there might be an inn somewhere nearby...?”

“Never mind, Mr. Lowden.” She forced a smile. “Of course you must stay here. I am not hungry, but I shall ask Mrs. Turrill to send up a dinner tray.”

She wanted to ask how long he planned to stay, but did not wish to be impolite. Might it be wiser to wait to make her escape until after he had gone?

A few minutes later, he picked up his bag, and Mrs. Turrill showed the man to a guest room while Hannah waited for Dr. Parrish. She caught up with the physician near the side door as he was readying to take his leave.

“Dr. Parrish, I have a question. Mr. Lowden mentioned that he had sent a letter to Sir John here, informing us of his arrival. Yet I have seen no post since we arrived. Do you know anything about the postal arrangements for Clifton?”

He pursed his lips in thought. “We receive our post regularly enough. And I am quite certain Edgar informed the postmaster of the names of the new tenants. I am going into Lynmouth first thing tomorrow and shall speak to Mr. Mason myself.”

“Only if it is no trouble.”

“No trouble at all, my lady.”

“Thank you, Dr. Parrish. You are very kind.”

He tipped his hat. “My pleasure.”