She rushed to her room, grabbed her bonnet and reticule, and then walked down the passageway, calling her maid.
Soon they were in the carriage. Heidi, her maid since childhood, looked curiously on.
“I just needed some air.” Liz couldn’t explain, but she felt like talking. “I told the coachman to drive around London in no particular direction.”
Heidi nodded. “Yes, my lady.”
As a result, they traveled roads Liz had never seen before until they approached a loud, energy-filled square. “Stop here, please.”
“Oh, my lady, you shouldn’t be getting out here.” Heidi’s face pinched in worry.
“I’m not thinking of exiting the carriage. I just want to see.”
They pulled closer, and the shouting and calling-out became clearer. A group of people, servants by the look of them, stood in a line. Others walked by, looking them up and down, asking questions, sometimes poking and prodding.
“What’s going on here, do you think?”
Heidi answered, “Those are them what need work, and the housekeepers are out choosing new hires.”
“What are those papers they’re holding?”
“Those would be their letters of recommendation, now, wouldn’t they?”
Liz’s mind spun, a wild sort of excitement rushing through her. “What happens if they don’t have a letter?”
“Well, now, it’s right difficult to get hired that way, but there’s always positions open if you’re willing to leave London. The best positions require papers.”
Liz swallowed the lump in her throat and straightened her skirt with shaking hands. “Tell the driver we wish to stop at that bookseller up ahead.” She tried to summon courage. She would just go look, walk amongst the employers, and see what she thought.
When the carriage arrived in front of the bookseller, Liz and Heidi exited, and Liz told the driver to wait a moment and then return in several hours. A footman stayed behind, and soon he and Heidi were deep in conversation. Heidi’s giggles told Liz she had a few moments before she would be missed.
She rushed back into the carriage and borrowed Heidi’s overcoat from the bench before the equipage departed, slipped around the back of the shop, and made her way to the group of people hoping to be hired.
As soon as she arrived, a woman approached. “Papers?”
“No, I don’t have any.”
The woman eyed her, taking in the overcoat, obviously noticing the finery beneath. “Do you read?”
“Yes.”
She raised her eyebrows in appreciation. “Any experience managing a house?”
“Yes, quite a bit, actually.” She had helped her mother host any number of guests. “And planning menus, purchasing . . .” She paused. What else would apply? Her trips to the modiste must count for something.
The woman took some notes. “Without papers, I don’t have much to offer here in London.” She shuffled through her notes.
“I could leave.” Her voice shook. “Really, I could go anywhere.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Willing to go to America?”
Shaken, Liz tried to slow her breathing. Swallowing, clenching her trembling fists, she conjured Lord Pinweather’s face into her mind and said, “Yes.”
“All right then, sign here. You’re hired. Come around to the docks, slip forty-seven, noon, Tuesday.”
And it was done.
***
Liz threw things into a small bag. One nice blue gown—though she doubted she would have occasion to wear it—her hairbrush, several sheets of paper. Thoughts, pushed as far away as her emotions could send them, tried to reason with her. She didn’t know the first thing about running a household. She had never cared one wit to know what went on below- or abovestairs.
But what choice did she have? If she stayed here, she would be stuck with that goat of a man. Perhaps she could reason further with her parents. She would prepare to leave and give them one final chance to change their minds.
Heidi walked in at that moment. “What are you doing, my lady?” The alarm on her face almost shook Liz from her purpose.
“I’m going away, just for a time. It isn’t safe for me here.”
Heidi eyed her for a moment. “We’ve been talking about it. And we all agree. We’d do the same. It isn’t right what they are doing to you.”
“I am shocked . . . and proud to hear you say that. Relieved, too, because I’m going to be needing your clothes and salary. You did get paid yesterday, did you not?”
Heidi’s face went white. “I did, my lady, but that money is for my mum. She needs it at home.”
“I’m sure my father will get you some more. Hurry now.”
Heidi swallowed and went into the closet, where her bed and things were kept.
Liz called in to her. “Come out with two of your dresses and skirts to work in, and an outfit for Sundays.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Heidi’s voice sounded quiet; maybe her maid would miss her. What a sobering thought. Was Heidi the only person in the household who would? Perhaps she should take care of her, leave her some way to buy new things.
A knock at the door made Liz squeal.
“Really, Liz, must you always be so dramatic?” Her mother’s voice sounded strange. “Might I come in?”
Liz ran to the closet and tossed the bag inside, just missing Heidi by a hair.
“Yes, open the door.”
Her mother’s eyes were red as though she had been crying. “Are you well, Mother?”
She waved her hand. “Yes, yes, I am fine. I am just having some emotion at the thought of you, my darling angel, receiving a proposal of marriage this very night.”
“He isn’t my first suitor.” She narrowed her eyes at her mother.
“Oh, all right. I have had a bit of bad news about your father’s financial dealings, and I am only in here to make sure you understand you are to say yes to Lord Pinweather.”
“Mother, you have made that abundantly clear—as clear as my gloves are white. I am certain you want me miserable.”
She rested a hand at the side of Liz’s face. “I just want you safe. This might be the last chance for you to be secure and happy.”
“Again, you fool yourself. Lord Pinweather is not my fount of happiness. Would he be yours?” Liz scoffed.
“Please, have a modicum of trust in your mother. This doesn’t seem like it now, but it is the best I could do for you in the time allowed.”
Her mother was not making any sense to Liz, at all, and she felt such a large sense of betrayal that she could hardly complete the conversation.
“Please, promise me you will accept him.”
She searched her mother’s eyes, and something there made her nervous—a sort of desperate crease lined her mother’s forehead. And she knew if she didn’t promise, her mother would not let up.
“I promise.”
Her mother let out a huge breath, as though the weight of the house rested on her agreement.
As soon as Liz’s mother left, Heidi came back out with the bag Liz had tossed into the closet. “All packed. I added the necessities as well as a few of my own things.” She swallowed. “I don’t have much by way of clothes. Do you think your father will provide more for me?”
“Of course he will. You have to have clothes, do you not?” She thought for a moment, concerned that her father would not replace Heidi’s clothes. She knew nothing by way of servants or their interactions with her parents. “Take any of mine you like. It’ll be a trade.” She rummaged through her jewelry and found a pendant. “And this.” She pulled parchment out of her drawer, and her ink and pen. “I shall write a note. All of my clothes I give to Heidi as a gift. And the blue pendant.” She read it out as she wrote it and then handed it to Heidi.
Heidi nodded nervously. Then she stood taller. “Let’s get you ready for dinner and your proposal.” She raised her eyebrows a couple of times and giggled. “Do you think he will get on his knee?”
“Or have a ring?” Liz thought about it for a moment. “I hope so. I could sell it.”
“That is very smart of you, my lady.” Heidi paused in her preparations. “But are you sure you can do this? Take care of yourself like this?”
“Absolutely. My new employer will take care of my passage and, once I’m there, I’m sure will explain what is expected as well.”
“Your new employer?” Heidi’s eyes went wide in disbelief. She didn’t even try to hide her shock.
Liz frowned. “I’ve accepted a position as a housekeeper. I know a bit about managing a house, menus, shopping, and the like.”
“But it isn’t just that. Life is . . . different for a servant. People aren’t as nice. Sometimes things even cost more for us.”
Liz waved her hand in dismissal. “I’m not concerned, though I am a bit nervous. Terrified, to be exact. But all I need do is remember my company only a few hours earlier and I have plenty of courage to carry this through.”
Heidi nodded in sympathy. “I can well believe it.”
***
Liz looked lovely wearing lavender that evening as her mother had requested and showing off a new hairstyle from Paris that Heidi had insisted on, saying it might be the last time she would get to try it out on Liz’s hair.
Lord Pinweather’s hungry expression when Liz walked into the dining room made her ill. What about this situation gave her mother hope for the future? Liz couldn’t understand it. She turned to her mother with a question in her brows and witnessed a similar upheaval in her mother’s face upon seeing Lord Pinweather. Why, in the name of the sheep in our pastures, did her mother want Liz to marry someone who made her own stomach churn?
None of this made any sense, and it all built up her courage that much more. She was going to need it. Her hands still shook at the thought of what she was about to do.
After an arduous dinner filled with stories from Lord Pinweather, all without purpose or entertainment except to prove him ridiculous, he cleared his throat as though to make an announcement.
“As you know, I am here with a clear intention tonight. I hope to be greatly blessed this very evening with some wonderful news.” He turned to Liz, and she had a full view of his teeth. “I have watched you, Lady Elizabeth, for months—all your comings and goings, your trips to the ladies’ parlor during balls, your meals at suppertime, those times you sought solitude in dark passageways. I know how many times you have worn the color lavender—my personal favorite—and how often you sip your water during mealtimes. I have paid close attention and determined long ago that you must be mine; I would prove myself worthy and, come what may, have you for a bride.”
Liz and her mother shared a glance, and for the first time, she saw a hint of nervous fluttering in her mother’s demeanor.
“And the day has finally come to make that a reality.” He stood, pulled back his chair, and knelt at her side. “Lady Elizabeth, will you be my wife?”
She looked from father to mother, giving them every opportunity, pleading with her eyes, but both nodded to continue. Her father even pointed, indicating she turn her attention back to Lord Pinweather.
She shrugged. What other choice did she have? She would now be a stranger to her home, her family, even her country.
“Yes.” With that one word she bid her parents farewell and determined to board a ship to America.
As soon as the horrors of dinner with her new intended were over, Liz rushed back to her room. Heidi waited, wringing her hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know. My lady, are you certain life with his lordship would be as awful as giving up what you have?” A small pile of Liz’s new belongings sat at her feet. As she realized that small pile would be all she owned in the world, the enormity of what she was about to do began to settle on her shoulders. But she summoned to her mind Lord Pinweather’s parting words from just moments before. He’d said, “We shall have a wonderful time of it, you and I. I don’t imagine the door between our rooms to be closed often, do you?”
Liz shuddered. “I’m certain. But perhaps I shall bring all the rest of my jewelry, no?” Lord Pinweather hadn’t even given her a ring, unfortunately, but she had a few trinkets that might be of worth.
Heidi nodded. “To be sure. You won’t be having anything else to your name, my lady. Or anyone to be helping you. Steerage on a passenger ship—”
“Say no more, Heidi. My mind is quite made up, as I’m sure yours would be were you to stand in my place.”
Heidi’s face wrinkled in indecision, but at length she nodded and reiterated what she had said earlier. “I do believe I would run, same as you.”
Liz was grateful for her agreement. It gave her strength to move forward, and she was going to need Heidi’s help. “I leave before first light. Who on the staff might be agreeable to assisting me?”
“I asked two footmen. If you can leave early enough, they will accompany you to the docks and return before their work begins. With any luck you can board the ship before sunrise.”
A cloud of fear that hovered about, waiting to douse Liz’s courage, began to shroud her heart. “Heidi, we don’t know the first thing about this ship. What if they don’t let me board? I cannot be standing about the docks by myself.” The pounding in her chest picked up, and she clutched her fists together, desperately trying to slow her breathing.
Heidi was at her side immediately. “Breathe. Breathe.”
Her soothing words and soft hands removing the pins from Liz’s hair brought back a semblance of calm. Her eyes found Heidi’s. The uncertainty in her maid’s face did little to comfort, but her gentle calming had eased the panic and made way for determination to return.
“I shall find a way because I must.”
***
After two days on the ship and unable to spend another moment in steerage, Liz grabbed the ropes piled at her feet inside the jolly boat that hung in its place at the stern of the ship and wrapped them tightly around herself, the soft white skin of her palms scratching and scraping as the rough fibers left their mark. The boat swung violently in this new storm, and she second-guessed what she had originally thought a clever hiding place. The ship pitched again to the left, throwing her up against the side of the small boat.
When she heard the pelting noise of water droplets hitting the fabric above her, she was grateful at least for protection from the elements. She did have a pallet of her own on a top bunk down in the general passenger hold, the steerage—the shame of it still rankled. And she would have to make use of it again, she was sure, but the privacy and quiet of her new accommodations brought a small smile to her face.
She was doing all she could to avoid the man with the wandering hands. He had become all the more persistent, and she did not feel safe this night, sleeping in such an unprotected and public place.
When she had left the protection of her father and her position in the nobility, she had not considered what that would mean for her safety. She hadn’t considered a lot of things, truth be told.
The boat pitched drastically to the left. If not for the ropes holding her inside, she would have toppled out onto the deck. Each end of her lifeboat attached to the rigging like a hammock, and her small jolly boat swung freely back to the right. She worked to secure the fabric more tightly above her. Then, curling up into the tightest ball she could, she lay on her blanket.
Despite the noise, sleep almost brought its solace until a burst of wind ripped at the ropes, detaching the boat from its secured anchors, tearing the rigging free. One side of the craft fell to the deck. She fumbled with the canvas tied tightly above her, in an effort to exit and retie the ropes. But then the other corner came untied, and the boat fell free of the rigging. Her boat started to slide, picking up speed across the tilted deck. She fell against the side, her hands scratching at the ropes, too weak to loosen the knots she herself had secured.
The ship rolled down the next wave and sent her little boat tearing across the deck in the opposite direction. A great crashing and splintering sound had her grabbing for anything secure and was followed by an unfamiliar weightlessness. Her stomach jumped to her throat and stalled her scream.
Her boat crashed to the waves, jarring her jaw so her teeth clenched together. Water dripped through the canvas above, and the boat tipped forward, down a steep wave.
She was adrift at sea.