“Is that a pistol in his hand?”
Oh mercy. Cynny’s knees wobbled, though she managed to make her way to her bed and shakily sat upon it. The constable. Lord Grayson had brought the constable along. She would be arrested and taken to prison. She would never become a bride, or a lady, or anything other than a miserable criminal who spent the rest of her days at hard labor.
Ironic, was it not? She had spent her early years as a criminal and despite all of Miss Wickersham’s efforts, she would end her days paying for her crimes.
She was the most loathsome, ungrateful person on the face of the earth. And soon, everyone would know the truth about her.
Daisy and Rosie continued to stare out the window. “Oh, I believe the man with the pistol might be more handsome than the other man. Honestly, Cynny will you not at least tell us his name?”
“Grayson,” she said, her voice shaking. “He is Lord Grayson. I have no idea who the other man is.” She could not force herself to speak her deepest belief and fear, that the man with the pistol was there to take her into custody.
“They are inside now,” Daisy said, heading for the door to the hallway. “I am going to find out what is happening. What an exciting day.”
“Cynny, are you unwell?” Rosie clasped Cynny’s hand. “You are positively clammy. Shall I get Nurse Lister?”
“She is indisposed,” Cynny replied. Besides, there was nothing in Nurse Lister’s arsenal of remedies that would heal what ailed Cynny. A dark cloud of dread fell over her.
Rosie went to a pitcher on a table and brought Cynny a drink of water. Cynny sipped the liquid, though it tasted like vinegar on her lips.
“I am sure it is simply a matter of pre-wedding jitters,” Cynny said in an attempt to distract Rosie. “Would you mind giving me a few minutes alone? I should like to gather my thoughts before I become a bride.”
“Yes, of course.”
With a bit of relief Cynny watched as Rosie opened the door. As soon as she was alone, Cynny intended to make a run for it, though where she would go or what she would do, she had no idea. All she knew was that no good could come from staying at Talcott House one moment longer.
Before Rosie could make her exit, Daisy came rushing back into the room, pigtails flying, face flushed.
“Cynny, you must come. They are talking about you in Miss Wickersham’s study and the men are shouting. Lord Grayson says he will not leave the premises without you!”
Too late. There was no escape.
“Lord Grayson, I thought I made it clear to you on your last unannounced visit that Talcott House is not a continuous open door for the whims of callers, regardless of their social rank.”
Through the tiny hole in the floor of a closet above the headmistress’s study, Hyacinth saw Miss Wickersham’s eyes shoot daggers at Lord Grayson from across the room. And rightfully so, Cynny thought. He was the most arrogant, pushy man she had ever encountered. But even lying prone on the hard wooden floor, she could not help but notice the twinges in the area between her thighs. She squeezed her thighs together and pressed against the floor seeking relief. Yet again, she lamented Nurse Lister’s illness and the hands of fate which had prevented Cynny from finding out about her special treasure.
“Let me see,” Daisy said, pushing Cynny out of the way.
“Hush,” Rosie said, taking hold of Daisy’s shoulder. “This is about Cynny, not you.”
The closet was crowded with the three of them in there. Only a few of the girls at Talcott House knew about the spy hole, better to keep the secret that way, though the fact that chatterbox Daisy had not spilled the beans about it continued to amaze Hyacinth. She might have preferred to be alone while finding out about Lord Grayson’s horrid plans for her, but she took comfort in being near her two friends. Right now, they were a little too near, but it could not be helped. Even for petite girls, three in a small closet was crowded. But, the drama unfolding in Miss Wickersham’s study was too delicious for them not to share. Besides, by the time she convinced the two of them to leave her alone to learn her fate, she would have missed the entire scene as it played out.
It occurred to Cynny that after she was hauled off to jail, she would never see Rosie and Daisy again. This would be her last memory of them. Her throat tightened up and she pulled away from the peephole and gathered her two friends close in a long hug. “I am going to miss you both.” She almost wished she had never lived at Talcott House. Never got her hopes up that the future could be better. Never made friends. At least then she would not know what she missed out on in life.
Oh, what would Cammie say when she found out about Hyacinth’s arrest? Would it be in the newspaper?
“We will miss you too,” Rosie said as she pulled out of Cynny’s embrace. “But, you will write to us, just like Cammie does, will you not? And maybe Miss Wickersham will find papas for me and Daisy someday and we will be able to call on you like proper ladies do.”
Cynny had a heartbreaking vision of socializing with her dear friends after they were all married, having tea and discussing the things married ladies talked about, whatever that was.
But, for her, it was not meant to be.
Raised voices drew her attention back to the present and she resumed her post, spying on activities down below. “Keep a watch out for Garland. We cannot let her find out about this peephole.”
Cynny resumed her observation of the happenings in Miss Wickersham’s study. Her whole life depended on the outcome of the loud discussions taking place one floor below.
“Give me the weapon.” Miss Wickersham stood in front of the man with Lord Grayson, her hand out as though she was demanding contraband from one of her errant students. Cynny gaped, as best she could with one eye pressed to the floor. She had never known Miss Wickersham to back down from anyone, including the young, exuberant constable who had wanted to haul Cynny off to jail when she tried to pick Miss Wickersham’s pocket that fateful day four years ago. But a man with a gun? A seasoned man of the law?
The constable cut his eyes to Lord Grayson who gave a slight nod of consent. Even the lawman abided by Lord Grayson’s whims. He really was infuriating with his bossy ways. He was even worse than Garland!
With Lord Grayson’s assent, the lawman laid the pistol in Miss Wickersham’s palm. She promptly locked it in her desk and pocketed the key before turning her attention back to Lord Grayson.
Cynny raised her face away from the opening and thought for a moment. Without the gun, perhaps Cynny would be able to escape from Lord Grayson and his enforcer. Where would she go?
She could sell the stolen pocket watch... that would give her enough money to get on her feet, maybe travel to a faraway town and start over again. Maybe as a governess.
A glimmer of hope flickered in her chest.
She would need to get out of the closet and change her clothes. Traveling in an elaborate wedding gown would draw too much attention. She took a breath and resolved to escape while she could. Resting her hands on the floor, she made to get up from her prone position, but Daisy grabbed her around the back of the neck. “Look,” she whispered, pushing Cynny’s face into the floor.