The Wrong Girl

Chapter 4, part 1

I slept more soundly than I'd expected. The mattress was so comfortable and the room so quiet that I didn't wake until mid-morning. I'd fleetingly thought about trying to escape before nodding off, but dismissed the idea almost instantly. It's what they'd expect me to do, and they'd be watching me far too closely the first night.

I rose and opened the heavy drapes, letting in the light. The sky was mostly blue with some high clouds scudding quickly across it thanks to what appeared to be a strong wind. The trees nearest the house swayed drunkenly, and two men who stood talking to one another in earnest held their hats on their heads. Or at least, one of them did. The other had a sturdy looking tall helmet. A military man?

It was odd that the two visitors were at the side of the house, not the front where they could be greeted. I briefly considered trying to catch their attention and begging their assistance in getting away from Frakingham, but it was likely they were friends of the Langleys and would be disinclined to believe me.

Besides, I wasn't appropriately dressed. I opened the cupboard and selected a simple morning dress of cream and green that fastened up the front. The cotton felt lovely and soft, and I spent a good minute or so just petting it and rubbing it against my cheek. It was perhaps a little flimsy for the cool weather, but I didn't care. It wasn't made of wool and that was all that mattered.

I dressed without a corset since I had no one to help and arranged my hair as best as I could. Without Vi, it was difficult to wrestle it all up into an elegant style, but I managed to pin some of it back so that I at least didn't look like a lion. I also found a silk choker in the same shade of green as the dress and fixed it around my throat.

Miracle of miracles, I found my way downstairs, only getting lost once and winding up at a locked door, which I assumed led to the disused part of the house. I found Sylvia in the small parlor looking out the window, her arms crossed as if hugging herself.

"Good morning," I said.

She turned and a smile quickly chased away her frown. "Good morning," she said, coming toward me. "Did you sleep well? I didn't want you woken until you were quite ready. You looked exhausted last night."

"Thank you. I slept like a log."

She studied me from head to toe, and her smile slipped a little. "You should have rung for one of the maids to help you dress."

"I...I'm not used to being dressed by a maid." Indeed, none of the Windamere attic rooms had been fitted with bell-pulls to summon the servants. They cleaned our bedroom when we were in the parlor, and they cleaned the parlor when we were in our bedroom or out walking. I rarely saw them and never rang for them.

"Really?" Sylvia looked quite shocked.

"My friend helped me and I helped her." An ache lodged in my heart at the thought of Vi, alone and sad in the attic. Dear lord, take care of her. Don't let her fret too much.

I must have looked quite forlorn because Sylvia took both my hands and gave them a squeeze. "Lucky you don't need a corset."

"I couldn't put it on by myself, and this dress was the only one with buttons down the front."

"It is a lovely dress and I hoped you'd like it, but it is more suited to warmer days."

"I'll be warm enough."

"Yes, of course." She tugged on the bell-pull near the fireplace. A small fire burned in the grate, but it was all the cozy room required. "You've missed breakfast, but I'll have Tommy fetch you something."

"Tommy?"

"The footman."

"You have only the one?"