Chapter
Twenty-One

Lizzy should never have come upstairs so early.

She hadn’t thought about how many hours she’d need to wait.

What she had thought was how badly she wanted to talk to the one person who might understand what she was going through and also about how badly she simply wanted to get away from the rest of them.

How they’d laughed at the barn luncheon and then at dinner! And how she had laughed, mostly, along with them!

But inside, she hadn’t been laughing at all.

Oh, Lizzy knew what they all thought of her. She knew none of them believed her to be terribly bright. And she had to admit, most days she didn’t think herself very bright, either. But even she wasn’t dim enough to not realize that something terrible had happened here, something not normal, and yet the rest of them were for the most part behaving as though everything was fine.

She’d killed a man today.

No matter the circumstances, how could she not be changed by that fact?

Oh, how she wanted to talk with the one person who might understand.

But then she’d escaped to her room, with Becky following soon after, to help her get ready for bed and to draw her bath for her.

Lizzy hadn’t minded the bath part. How many had she had today? That one made three. There had been the one before breakfast and another after the barn luncheon. She’d really needed that one. It had only been after she’d shot the valet that she’d noticed the stench. Perhaps, when he’d been coming toward her, she’d been too scared to mark it? Well, whatever the case, she certainly had marked it afterward. The stench of something rotting.

Is that what human death smelled like? She supposed it might be different than with the animals she’d seen. And Dr. Webb had assured them it was all quite normal. But would a body start to rot so quickly? The others hadn’t said anything about it when she’d mentioned it to Dr. Webb, except to place the backs of their hands to their noses, as if they could keep it out.

But she couldn’t keep it out.

Maybe it was because she’d been the one to kill him, but it felt as though that rotting stench had permeated her clothes and skin, invaded her very being. Even the second bath after the barn luncheon hadn’t fully eradicated the sense memory in her mind, although the third finally helped.

Then, after the bath, Becky had assisted her in getting into her nightclothes—her silk gown and velvet robe—and she’d climbed into bed.

But not before asking Becky to hunt her down another pair of riding breeches—definitely not the ones she’d worn that day, no matter how well they might be laundered; she never wanted to see any of those clothes again—and bring them up to her.

If Becky found the request odd, she didn’t say, and she had done what was asked of her as she always did.

Finally, Lizzy had been left alone in bed to wait, for hours if need be, with only the thoughts in her own mind to occupy her.

Some would have said it wasn’t much of a mind, but it was the only one she had.

Lizzy worried she might drift off to sleep and miss her opportunity, but she needn’t have worried. There was simply too much for her to think about.

The hours ticked by, all too slowly for her.

At last, there came the sounds of footsteps, first just a few and then more, making their way through the house as her family and their guests retired to their rooms.

Still, Lizzy waited, hoping to give the servants ample time to put the house to rest.

When she thought she had given it enough time, when she couldn’t wait any longer, she got up from her bed and removed her nightclothes, replacing them with the breeches and a shirt Becky had laid out to go with the breeches. She pulled on boots and, taking up a cloak, threw it around her shoulders, tying it at the neck before putting the hood up.

It felt odd, dressing herself, but Lizzy supposed a person could get used to it if she had to.

Then Lizzy stole out of her room, pulling the door closed softly behind her, padded down the grand staircase on cat’s feet, crossed the marble floor, and went out the great front door, closing that softly behind her as well. Then she tore off running until she got around behind the abbey, running faster than she’d ever run in her life, not even stopping when she heard a door open in the distance behind her and the sound of Fanny talking to the cats. She didn’t turn. She didn’t want to be seen.

Lizzy kept running until she’d gained the farther reaches of the estate, where the cottages of the tenant farmers would be. Which one, though?

She’d toured this part of the estate before—all the sisters had, with Father. It was something you did from time to time, making sure all the tenant farmers were happy enough, that everything was operating as it should be.

She thought now that she remembered which one it was. The cottage, right here, with all its lights out.

That was no surprise. No doubt the whole world was sleeping by now.

Well, except for her.

Out of breath and panting, pulse pounding and heart racing in her chest from her run, Lizzy raised her hand to knock. Oh, she did hope she had the right place. If she didn’t, this could get very embarrassing for her very quickly.

The door to the cottage opened.

“Lady Elizabeth,” Will Harvey said, wearing what he usually wore about the estate, as though he’d never been to bed at all. “What are you doing here?”