CHAPTER FIVE

 

The ride back to Mr. Burke’s home from Buckingham Palace was full of taut silence. The hired hack swayed roughly over the cobbles, and Jessa stared determinedly out the window. Soot smudged the rooftops, and clouds dimmed the sun, matching the grimness of her mood. The smell of burning offal stung her nose, and she braced herself on the worn leather seat as the hack turned a corner, the carriage creaking. The lopsided rhythm of the wheels matched her worried heartbeat.

Covertly, she glanced across at Mr. Burke. His legs were crossed, his face set in its usual sour expression. He drummed his fingers on the seat, as if lost in thought. She feared what those thoughts might be.

Would he truly take Louisa away and lock her up in an asylum? His threats were not idle—he’d taken pains to demonstrate as much to her in the past. Which meant that she and her sister were not safe.

A bitter laugh rose in her throat. What a fool she’d been, to think her relative’s house was any sort of haven. She must come up with a plan to protect Louisa. Somehow.

As soon as they entered the front door, the hinges groaning as if in pain, Jessa hurried toward the stairs.

“Not so fast.” Mr. Burke caught her arm. “What are you up to with Silverton?”

His fingers closed hard, creasing the fabric of her pelisse, and his eyes bored into hers.

“Nothing,” she said.

He gave her a shake. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen how he looks at you. Do you think to run away and find a different protector?”

“Of course not.” But his words whirled about in her head like sparks. Could she, in fact, do that very thing?

“Don’t deceive yourself, missy.” He laughed in her face. “A man like that would tire of you within the week. And he certainly wouldn’t take in that idiot sister of yours. Whatever you’re plotting, it won’t succeed.”

She wanted to dash the sneer from his face. She wanted to gather her meager possessions and make a dramatic exit, taking Louisa with her. But the truth of his words cut deep. They truly had nowhere to turn.

Jessa raised her chin and pulled out of her guardian’s grasp. “I am well aware that Louisa and I depend upon you. Good night, sir.”

Mr. Burke folded his arms and scowled, but at least he made no further move toward violence. The skin between her shoulder blades prickling, she turned her back on him, lit a candle, and ascended the stairs.

Louisa stirred sleepily in her bed as Jessa entered. The candle flame flickered in the draft from the closing door.

“Did you see the queen?” Louisa asked, bringing one hand up to shade her eyes from the light.

“I did—and will tell you all about her, and the palace, on the morrow.”

“And the Silver Lord, he was there too?”

“Yes.”

Louisa smiled. “I knew he would be.”

“Go back to sleep, duckling.”

Jessa slipped out of her gown and carefully hung it in the wardrobe. She blew the candle out, and heard her sister burrow back under the covers.

Somehow she must disabuse Louisa of the notion that the Earl of Silverton was some kind of knight in shining armor. He was simply a man who intended to hire her to perform at a musicale. A man who, from all appearances, did not care overmuch for music. Or anything beyond his own reputation, if the gossip she had overheard was true.

At the edge of sleep, she could not help but conjure up his face. There had been a wordless sympathy between them when she left the palace. Ridiculous for her to think so, and yet, in that last gaze, she felt as though they had seen more deeply into one another’s souls than either of them expected.

 

***

 

The sound of the bedroom door closing in the darkness woke Jessa. Had she forgotten to lock it?

Heart pounding, she sat up and strained to hear any sounds of movement from within the room. Nothing.

“Louisa?” she whispered.

She slipped carefully from between her covers, and reached for her sister. Tumbled sheets met her fingers, still slightly warm from her sister’s body. But the bed was empty, except for Louisa’s crumpled nightdress.

Either she was wandering the house unclothed, or for some incomprehensible reason she had dressed herself. To go outside?

Fear jolted through Jessa. She hurried to the window and pushed back the curtain. Moments later, she saw Louisa in her walking dress and cloak step out from their guardian’s house and into the street.

“Louisa!” she hissed, but of course her sister could not hear her through the window.

Jessa dared not bang upon the glass, for fear of waking Mr. Burke. Desperately, she struggled to open the window, but the lock was jammed.

Outside, Louisa glanced up and down the street, her hesitation clear. Fog curled at the edges of the sparse streetlights, and the world lay in silence and shadow.

Jessa flung herself away from the window. Not bothering to dress, she grabbed her cloak from the wardrobe and slipped on the closest shoes to hand—a pair of red satin dancing slippers. Nearly trembling from the need for stealth and speed, she opened the bedroom door and crept as rapidly as possible down the hall.

Blessedly, her guardian’s snores continued uninterrupted as she descended the stairs. She was careful to keep to the outer edges of the treads, where they would not creak. Gaining the bottom, she darted across the room to the front door. No time to light a lantern—which, in any case, would only draw unwanted attention. Flipping up the hood of her cloak, she carefully pulled the door just wide enough to slip outside. Thankfully, the hinges let out only the faintest protest.

The air was cool and clammy against her cheek, the cobbles slick beneath the thin soles of her slippers. They would be ruined, but she could not count the cost—not when Louisa was out wandering the streets well past midnight.

Where was her sister?

Jessa sent a desperate glance over the empty block. At the far end, she caught a glimpse of motion, the sway of a skirt turning the corner. Taking up the cloak in her fists, she dashed down the street.

The sound of her slippers slapping the cobbles echoed back faintly from the dark homes lining the block. A crumbling brick townhouse stood at the corner, and Jessa skidded around it, breath heaving in her lungs.

She nearly collapsed with relief when she saw her sister standing before a wrought iron fence some paces away.

“Louisa,” she whispered urgently. “Come back.”

“There you are.” Louisa smiled at her, as if they were not shrouded in mist in the middle of the midnight street. “I hoped you would come.”

“Come where?” Jessa hurried to her sister and took her hand, partially to reassure herself that Louisa was safe, and partially to keep her from darting off again.

“We’re going on an adventure,” Louisa said solemnly.

“I will gladly take you wherever you want. But not now. It is dark, and Mr. Burke—”

“We don’t need to worry about him. Once we find the Silver Lord, everything will come out right.” Louisa’s eyes shone with perfect faith.

Oh, dear.

“Come back to the house, love.” Jessa tugged her sister’s hand. “Neither of us have the faintest idea how to find him.”

“Goose. Of course I do.” Louisa grinned, then fished in her pocket and pulled out a card. “It says so right here. Tref… Tarv…”

Jessa snatched the calling card from her sister. The Earl of Silverton’s name was easy to read, even in the dim light. She did not bother asking how her sister had found the card. Louisa was trapped every day for hours in their bedroom. There was no use concealing anything from her, but Jessa had never thought her sister would take such precipitous action.

“Trevethwick House,” she said. “But we cannot go there. It’s the middle of the night.”

She began leading Louisa back toward Mr. Burke’s.

“Why not?” Her sister’s steps slowed. “I want to find him now.”

“He…” Jessa thought furiously. If she could not keep Louisa from believing in fairytales, she would use them to her advantage. “By night, he is a ravening beast. If we appear unannounced on his doorstep, I fear he would devour us.”

There. That should keep her sister from trying this particular folly again.

“Oh.” Louisa began walking once more, her expression downcast. Then her face brightened. “We shall go tomorrow, then, in the afternoon!”

“It is not that simple. First, I must complete the quest.”

She must find some way to convince her sister that the Earl of Silverton was not going to miraculously save them. There was no fairytale ending.

“What is the quest?” Louisa’s voice was full of innocent belief.

“Well—in only a few days I will play a musicale there. If I am able to… recover a talisman from Trevethwick House, then the earl will have to grant us a boon.”

The thought of that stern man ever being in her debt made her words seem all the more foolish, but Louisa squeezed her hand with excitement.

“What is the talisman?” she asked.

“Ah, that’s the difficulty. I won’t know it until I see it.” Sufficiently vague. “My quest has very little chance of succeeding.”

“You will, though.” Louisa gave a satisfied nod. “And then we will go live in the castle.”

Jessa let out an inaudible sigh as they approached Mr. Burke’s door.

“Hush now,” she said. “We mustn’t wake him.”

There was no explanation they could make that would satisfy their guardian, should he discover them creeping through the house.

The front door opened quietly, but as they shut it the hinges creaked loudly. The bar of the lock clunked when she slid it home, and Jessa froze, listening. Everything seemed quiet. Perhaps the noise of their entering had not been so very loud, after all.

Making their way carefully through the dimness, she and Louisa ascended the stairs. Louisa set her foot wrong, and the tread let out a groan.

“Go, go,” Jessa whispered, giving her a little push. They were so close to safety.

Louisa hastened down the hallway, with Jessa right behind her. As she had feared, light bloomed from beneath their guardian’s door. They had woken him.

Panic spiking through her chest, Jessa whipped off her cloak and thrust it at Louisa. Mr. Burke’s door opened, his squinting face illuminated by the flickering light of a candle. She prayed he could not see them too clearly.

She shoved her sister into their room, then turned to face Mr. Burke.

“What’s this?” he demanded, lifting the candle higher.

“Forgive us for waking you, sir,” Jessa said. “Louisa was thirsty and our pitcher was empty, so I took her down to the kitchen for a cup of water.”

Thank heavens she was still in her nightdress. Surreptitiously, she scooted her feet back, hoping the shift concealed the damp toes of her red satin slippers.

Mr. Burke scowled at her a long moment, then turned and scanned the hallway. Shadows danced and darted at the edges of the light, but of course there was nothing to be seen.

“I’ll take a look in your room,” he said. “You can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Of course.” Jessa turned into their bedroom.

She desperately hoped that Louisa had climbed back into her bed, and pulled the covers up to conceal the fact she was dressed. But with her sister, there was no guessing what she might think the proper action would be. As the circle of light fell across the threshold, Jessa knitted her fingers anxiously together.

The candle illuminated the lump of Louisa in her bed. The bedcovers were rather sharply pointed at the bottom, and Jessa prayed Mr. Burke would not be able to tell that Louisa was still wearing her boots. And that he would not notice the discarded cloak bundled in the corner behind the door.

“Yes?” Louisa blinked up at the candle flame.

Mr. Burke grunted, then turned on Jessa.

“Back to sleep—and don’t disturb mine again, or you’ll be sorry.”

“We shan’t. Our apologies, sir.” She bowed her head, and kept it lowered until he had withdrawn. The light faded, leaving the bedroom in darkness.

“I wish we could have gone,” Louisa whispered.

“Take off your shoes and dress,” Jessa said. The aftermath of fear trembled through her, making her feel slightly ill.

They had been lucky. That time. But luck was almost never on her side.

She removed her slippers, then shoved them into the far recesses of the wardrobe. Water-marked and soiled with street dirt, they would be damning evidence if Mr. Burke discovered them.

Her sister rustled and grumbled, and Jessa went to help her, unknotting the tangled laces of her boots and unfastening the few buttons Louisa had managed to close on the dress. It was a wonder the thing hadn’t fallen off while she was traipsing about the streets.

Setting her jaw, Jessa resolved to keep a closer eye on her sister.

“Good night,” Louisa whispered, finally ready to crawl back beneath the sheets.

“Dream sweetly,” Jessa said, though she knew her own dreams would be filled with darkness and fear, and a small room where the walls were steadily closing in.