How absurdly, foolishly complacent she’d been.
But she was going to leave.
Once she’d made the decision to leave it was like a door swinging open on to clarity. She saw her options.
She knew precisely where she would go and what she would then do.
And she leaped up, gripped her skirts in her hands, and took the stairs as fast as she dared, her hand gliding over the banister that Captain Hardy and Lord Bolt had sailed over in order to get to Hawkes. In order to get to the people they loved.
Thank God. She reached the bottom of the stairs just as Dot was bringing in the lamp and barring the door.
Dot turned to see her and clapped a hand over her heart. “Cor, Mrs. Gallagher!” she whispered loudly. “I thought you were a ghost! Did you come down for some tea? Or perhaps a tisane, as well?”
Ifonlya tisane could take away her troubles.
Aurelie took a breath to steady her voice. “No, thank you,” she said swiftly. “I’ve a favor to ask, however. Would you mind terribly helping me to bring my trunk down the stairs? We should be able to manage, just the two of us, while it’s empty. And then after that... would you mind helping me to bring my clothes down to it?”
Dot’s pale brows dipped worriedly.
Aurelie silently, fervently prayed.
“I will give you a shilling to help,” Aurelie said desperately.
“But, Mrs. Gallagher, if you’re bringing your trunk down that means you’re...”
“I have learned that I need to depart as soon as possible.” Aurelie’s voice shook, despite her efforts.
Dot looked stricken. And then bit her lip. “Oh, dear. I could fetch Mr....” She paused, realizing that all the misters, everyone sturdier and stronger than the two of them, were in bed, and Mr. Hawkes was in no physical condition to haul a trunk down, and Mrs. Gallagher must have indeed sussed all of that out.
“No, Dot. It must be us and it must be now and you mustn’t tell anyone else and we must be quiet.” Her voice had grown taut and tears were starting up again. “Please,” she whispered.
Dot’s eyes went soft with great sympathy, and something fiercer: understanding and resolve.
“Will you help me?” Aurelie said desperately. Her voice cracked.
“I was a lady’s maid, Mrs. Gallagher,” she told her. “Of course I’ll help you. And you keep your money. It is no trouble at all.”
Aurelie closed her eyes. “Thank you.”
Aurelie didn’t dare wander out alone in the misty dark. Dot kept her company in the little sitting room until dawn tinged the skies dove gray.
And then she went outside to wait in the little park, shivering, listening for the sound of carriage wheels turning over the cobblestones.
Dot had given her a packet of food to take with her and a little flask. “Bread and cheese and scones!” she informed her on a whisper. “And tea!” Then she’d pushed a folded, knitted coverlet into her arms, as well. “We’ve lots!” she whispered. “And it’s chilly in the hack.”
Impulsively she hugged her and Dot squeezed her back.
“Godspeed, Mrs. Gallagher,” she’d said.
Hack drivers were used to guests coming and going from The Grand Palace on the Thames now, Dot said; they made a point of driving through their little street in case they could acquire a fare.
Aurelie hailed one as the sky turned nacre and offered an extra pence to the driver to fetch her trunk from inside the boardinghouse. He hoisted it easily.
Aurelie looked back one more time, and as the door closed behind him, she caught a glimpse of the chandelier, the marble upon which she’d first seen Mr. Hawkes bleeding and outstretched, and Dot in the foyer, waving goodbye.
Chapter Twenty
Delilah froze on the stairs on her way down at the sight of Dot standing in the foyer at dawn, apparently waving at a strange man departing with a trunk.