Rowena (Regency Belles Series Book 1) by Caroline Ashton Page A

boots into the bend of her arm, Ellie ran to the main door. One boot fell to the ground as she fumbled the handle shut. A heavy sigh emerged behind her. Biting her lip, she bobbed down and grabbed it. Hardly daring to look at the housekeeper’s rigid face, she hurried through the secret door. A short corridor stretched beyond it. It was gloomy and narrow. What little light was not issuing round the housekeeper came from a gap in the left-hand wall.
    ‘Get along there. Turn and go down the steps at the end. It will take you to the kitchens.’
    ‘Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.’ Ellie dropped her deepest curtsey and fled. The door snapped shut behind her removing half the available light.
    Ellie slowed. She stopped. Her fingers loosened on the muddied leather. A worried frown creased her forehead. If she had to leave this way, then she’d have to return this way too. It dawned on her that now she had left it, she didn’t know which of the doors opened into Rowena’s room. Chewing at her knuckle and spreading more mud on her gown, she turned back.
    Painted doors lined the wall: two to the left and one on the right. Ellie rotated again. Her hand, with one boot grasped in it, flipped from side to side spraying flakes of dried mud against the wall. Which side had her door been? The right. She turned round. Now it must be one of the doors on the left. Her lip had more chewing than was good for it. It turned deep pink in Ellie’s pale face.
    She stood still, thinking. It couldn’t be the nearest door; she was certain sure she’d walked further than that. Or almost certain. She tiptoed back to the second. With an ear pressed to the wood she held her breath.
    Nothing. No sound. Not a single one, just silence. Perhaps Mrs Emmett was not in there inspecting how she had put away Miss Rowena’s things. Her fingers trembled as she turned the handle expecting every second to hear Mrs Emmett’s accusing tones. The door creaked open an inch. No-one shouted. Nor spoke. Her trembling hand pushed it further. Eyes blinking rapidly, she peeped round the corner. On the bed lay a turquoise gown. Breath escaped in a gasp. Her eyes misted with relief.
    Retreating into the corridor, she shut the door and pulled a ribbon from under her cap. The boots dropped to the floor. In a moment the ribbon was tied round the handle. With a pleased sigh she resumed her journey, boots dangling from her hands.
    The feint light in the corridor came from a small window set at the end the long passages the housekeeper had indicated. The window was so high there was no temptation for anyone to linger and view whatever scene they gave onto. Only the sky was visible. Ellie hurried to the flight of stairs. A wall of noise echoed up them as if a hundred people were all talking at once. Drawing on the last of her courage, Ellie started the downward journey.
    The stairs ended in a wide, flagstoned passageway. On one side twin glazed doors opened onto a grey courtyard. The noise that had sounded so fiercesome at the top of the stairs had now lessened to normal servants’ chatter from a room far ahead. Worry replaced Ellie’s relief at avoiding Mrs Emmett. Should she go to what was clearly the servants’ hall? Was that where she should clean Rowena’s boots? A much worse worry struck her. She had forgotten to bring a brush and polish. She bit her lip, thinking hard. Thaddeus. Thaddeus might have brushes. He’d help her. He’d be in the stables. Ellie dragged the outside door open and escaped Darnebrook Abbey’s terrifying interior.
    Sweating under the sun beaming down on the stableyard, Thaddeus was grooming a horse under Mr Patterson’s eye. The coachman sat on two bulging sacks of oats by the door to the long tack room, puffing at his pipe. His rheumy eyes drooped. They flicked open when Ellie arrived clutching the boots.
    ‘What are you doing out here, gal?’
    ‘Oh, Mr Patterson, sir. It’s awful. I’ve Miss Rowena’s boots to clean and I’ve