She was not a woman who cried, but her whole future was gone. In a single moment, all her scrimping and saving, all the carefully collected coins from a lifetime. All gone.
“Do you have family, miss? Someone who can help you?”
She nodded. She didn’t, but she had a name, and it would have to do. “The Dowager Countess of Byrn.”
And boy, did that light a fire under them. They straightened up with shock, they fell over themselves to hold her elbow as if she were about to collapse. She wasn’t. Well, maybe she was, then they both started talking rapidly. Each spilling over the other to help her.
“You shouldn’t be out alone, miss.”
“Didn’t she send someone to get you?”
“You’re in the wrong place, miss. Any number of terrible things might happen.”
Something horribledidhappen! She lost everything!
“Good thing we’re here to help.”
“Where is her house?”
She told them, enunciating clearly and showing them the letter. Neither of them could read, but she got the information across. Thank God.
“We’ll take you right there, miss. We’ll need a hackney. Don’t suppose you’ve got any coins to pay do you?”
She had nothing. Everything was gone.
“Don’t you worry. I’ll bet the countess will pay fer you.” His eyes narrowed. “You do know her, don’t you? Not lying, are you?”
She frowned at him then held up her proof. Though they couldn’t read it, she pointed straight at the words. “Dowager Countess of Byrn.”
“Right you are, then. This way, miss.”
She followed miserably in their wake. She knew she looked horrendous. She was grateful to finally climb into a hackney. At least that got her out of the dark. The two men kept up a steady noise of conversation. She hadn’t the focus to sort through their words, but their patter was comforting enough. Clearly, she needed to work on her accent. It would be impossible to find a husband if he couldn’t comprehend a word she said!
But then how was she going to catch a husband at all if she didn’t have a dowry? Fear nearly choked her, and she pressed a hand to her chest. Oh goodness! There was her one copper chain. The one she wore down here. Why hadn’t she worn all of them? What a fool she’d been!
At least she had the one. That would be something, right? A little bit of money as a pitiful dowry.
The hackney pulled to a stop and the two watchmen helped her descend. They escorted her right up to the front door and pounded the knocker. A sour-faced butler glared down at the three of them.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but this here gel says she belongs to the Dowager Countess of Byrn. Poor thing was robbed and lost in the rookery. She’s got nothing now except this letter of recommendation with her. Leastways that’s what we think it is. Go on now, gel. Tell ’im.”
It took all of her concentration to follow the watchman’s flurry of words. It took her even longer to realize they were all staring at her waiting for her to say something.
“Yer name, miss,” the younger one promised.
Right. “I’m Mairi, daughter of the MacAdaidh laird. The countess is set to sponsor me for the Season.” She held up the letter though it was now smudged and torn.
The butler didn’t take it. Indeed, he did nothing more than glare at her as if she were a rat brought to his door by a stray cat. And that roused her anger.
“Lady Clara said so,” she said clearly. Then when he wouldn’t look at her letter, she folded it up neatly and faced off with the rotten man. “You will let me in now, and you will inform the countess that her charge has arrived. You will do this now or by God…” She choked off her next words. It would not do to threaten to wring the butler’s bollocks until he screamed.
“Acts like a toff, don’t she?” murmured the young watchman. “If you can sort through the Scottish sounds.”
The butler must have thought so too. Enough that he took a step back. She had to walk in beneath his imperious nose.
“And see that the cabbie is paid,” she ordered. “And tip these men, please. I fear what might have happened if they had not come to my rescue.”
She had no idea if the butler understood her. She didn’t want to look back. Instead, she went straight to the parlor. She wanted a moment to breathe alone without all the noise around her. It wasn’t just the watchmen, but the sound of people everywhere. Looking out the window, all she saw were buildings barely illuminated by gaslight. She heard dogs in the distance and carriage wheels on the cobblestone. Outside, someone cursed and another chattered. Inside, the watchmen continued talking to the butler. The words were incomprehensible to her, and all the noise made her head pound.