Clarendon Estate (The Sinclair Society, Book Three) Rough Draft

Chapter Eleven

Of course, I couldn't summon Lady Leith with a written message to come to the dressing room. That would have drawn unnecessary attention to us both. At the same time, I couldn't wait for her to come in to dress before dinner. It may have been already too late to keep Miss Hanson from destroying everything, but I had to try.

There was, after all, more than one way to convey a message to someone.

My heartbeat was loud and fast in my ears as I hurried to Lady Leith's dressing room. It was as I had left it only a few hours before. She was wearing a pale green gown. From her wardrobe, I pulled a cashmere shawl that had a similar green in the pattern.

It would have to do.

Shawl in hand, I left the dressing room. Keeping to the main hallway, I went straight to the drawing room. When I was a few yards from the open door, I could hear the low chatter of voices.

"I'm sorry you missed the gentlemen, Sir Henry," Lady Leith was saying, her voice gracious and sincere. "I'm sure they will return soon. In the meantime, I hope we can endeavour to keep you entertained despite our gossip."

I couldn't hear the gentleman's low response but whatever it was made Lady Leith laugh. If I had not been focused on the loss of the cipher my brother had been in possession of, I might have been pleased to hear my new friend and employer so happy. She deserved it after the stress she had been under as of late.

And here I was about to ruin the moment of happiness. I took a deep breath and slipped through the doorway. Keeping to the edge of the room, I allowed my gaze to move around the gathered company.

The only gentleman in the room was Sir Henry, making him stand out among the ladies. His black hair was graying and his face had many lines on it. The expression on his face was kind, but his eyes had a sharp intelligence in them that reminded me of Mr. Harper.

"Lady Leith, does that creature wish something?" one of the young ladies asked, her tone condescending. She was seated next to the Dowager, so I assumed it was Miss Reynolds.

Lady Leith's eyes flicked my way. Reminding myself to keep my eyes demurely down, I approached. "I brought you your shawl, your ladyship," I murmured, thankful my voice was steady.

As she took the cloth from me, the faintest of frowns appeared on Celia's forehead. "I was wondering where I had left that," she said as if it were the most natural thing I should be there. "Thank you, Nelson."

I curtsied and backed to the door. "You didn't send for a shawl," the same young lady said, her tone sharp.

"A superior maid is aware of what is needed without a word being said, Miss Reynolds," Lady Leith said calmly. She draped the shawl around her shoulders. "One day I am sure you will understand."

Outside the room, I breathed out. I could only hope Lady Leith had understood I needed to speak to her as soon as possible. From her words, I was certain she at least recognized that something had happened. We both knew all too well that a message could be sent in a variety of ways.

"My lady, you appear distressed," I heard Sir Henry say, his tone tinged with concern.

Had my bold move ben too much? "Oh, I had the sudden thought that it has been five years since a dear friend passed away. You remember Mr. Sinclair, do you not?" Lady Leith said a moment later. "Mr. Jonathan Sinclair."

"Indeed I do. Such a loss."

Oh, dear. Did she think I had appeared to prompt her to interrogate the man? I wished I could remain at the door and eavesdrop, but it would be impossible. I hoped Lady Leith would come to me soon. Hiding my clenched, shaking hands against my skirt, I began to walk back to the dressing room.