A Lady in Hiding by Amy Corwin Page A

delicately. “What time is it?”
    “Nearly six, I should imagine.”
    She nodded. “Then I’d best be getting home. Mrs. Pochard won’t want me missing supper again this week.” She patted her thighs and hips. “My pay! Has Mr. Hawkins gone already? What about our pay?”
    “Mr. Hawkins will be back in a few hours,” William said, trying to reassure her.
    “What do you mean, back ? Has he gone, then, for the evening? I thought you said it wasn’t even six, yet?”
    “Six in the morning.”
    “Six in the morning ?” her voice rose. She winced and groaned, but tried to stand anyway. Weaving dizzily, she clutched wildly about her, grabbing William’s shoulder.
    He put an arm around her back and tried to push her down onto the bed with a hand on her collarbone. She was surprisingly strong. She pulled away, despite her sharp-drawn gasp of pain.
    “Leave off, sir! What do you mean? It can’t be morning.”
    “It is. You’ve slept the night away.”
    “God’s teeth, I’ve got to go!” She glanced around, her round eyes taking in the velvet bed covers and silk curtains. “Where the hell am I?”
    “You’re in the townhouse where you were working. You’ve had a bad blow to the head. There’s no point in trying to get up.”
    “Do you want me to lose my job? I can’t lie abed all day. What a bufflehead, I am! God’s teeth, and the rent was due last night.” She wobbled forward, her legs nearly buckling as she reached the door. For the first time, she glanced down at her clothing. “And where are my shoes? My smock?”
    “Sarah,” William said.
    His firm voice stopped her. She stared at him in silence.
    “Sarah, listen to me, you can’t go running out there. Someone tried to kill you yesterday.”
    Her narrow shoulders straightened. “They didn’t succeed, did they? So, I’ve got to get up. Don’t worry—I’ll pay you what I owe, but I must keep my job to do it. And I’ve got to have a place to live. Nothing comes for free.” A trembling hand pressed against the bandages before she threw open the door.
    Following her, William tried to sound reasonable. “You can’t. You’re a woman—”
    “Hush!” she said, standing in the hallway in her stocking feet, looking confused and dazed.
    “Well, at least put on your shoes and smock.”
    A glimmer of a smile crossed her pale face. Very carefully, she turned and reentered the bedroom. William collected her belongings and held them out to her. She sat gingerly on the bed.
    When she leaned over to put a shoe on, she stopped with a gasping intake of breath.
    “I—I can’t. Can you?” she asked finally, her voice soft with embarrassment.
    Without a word, William knelt and thrust her thin feet into the heavy shoes. After lacing them, he held the smock over her head, drawing her hands through the dusty sleeves as if she were a child.
    “I’ll get a hackney,” William said as they moved quietly through the hallway. He could hear the servants stirring in the back of the house, preparing for the day.
    “No.” She bit her lip when she started to shake her head.
    William waited until they got outside before he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “I refuse to walk back to Second Sons. We’ll share a hackney.”
    Despite the early hour, the street was already alive with traffic.
    Sarah glanced around, apparently too tired and ill to argue. Eyes half closed, she waited next to him until he managed to collar an urchin and promise him a shilling if he found them a hackney. They didn’t have long to wait. William helped her inside and climbed in afterwards, settling next to her.
    “You really can’t go to work today, Miss Sanderson.”
    “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed.
    “Why not? You’re Sarah Sanderson, aren’t you?”
    “What if I am?” Her eyes opened, gleaming silver in the shadows. “It makes no difference. I’ve a job. Responsibilities with bills to pay like any man.”
    “But