Page 14 of The Fifth Life of Alicia
“Thank you.”
The carriage came to a stop, and I removed my cloak before handing it to Bella.
“Do you have what I asked you to prepare?”
She reached into her pouch and pulled out a smaller one that was full of coins. “Right here.”
“Thank you.”
The coachman opened the door and offered me his hand. “My lady.”
I placed my hand in his and stepped out of the carriage with a smile. “Thank you. What’s your name?”
His cheeks pinkened. “Harry.”
“Harry. My maid, Bella, will need to return to the same place in two days. I’d appreciate if you could ensure she makes it there and back safely.” I discreetly placed the small pouch of money in his palm. “And it’d be best if you could keep these trips between us.”
He glanced down at his hand before closing his fingers around it. “As you wish, Lady Alicia. You have my word.”
“Thank you.” I gave him my brightest smile, causing his cheeks to get even redder. “Bella, I’m parched. Bring some tea to my room.”
She bowed her head. “Of course, my lady.”
Chapter Three
A Petty Revenge Plot
Two days came and went, and before I knew it, it was time for Bella to return to the tea shop in the hope of gaining an audience with Ezra. I wasn’t sure if my attempt would be successful, but I already doubted it.
If it were easy to meet with him, Illusion would be just any old information guild.
“Lady Alicia, I have your invitations here,” one of the maids said from outside my door with a gentle knock.
“Oh, please come in,” I said, tucking my notebook into the hidden drawer in my desk. “Have they been sorted through?”
“Yes.” A red-headed maid with a freckled face carried them over to the table on a silver tray.
I took a seat on the sofa and reached for the top one. “Who sorted them?”
“The marchioness did.” The maid clasped her hands over her stomach.
I paused. If my stepmother was responsible for sorting through my invitations, I’d bet they were all from lower-ranking noble houses.
One flip of the envelopes told me I was correct. The first was from the daughter of a baronet; the second, a viscount’s daughter; and the third I checked was from a baroness who’d recently moved to the capital city and was desperate to make connections.
“What’s your name?” I asked the maid.
She swallowed. “Annie, my lady.”
“Annie, do you know what happened to the invitations the marchioness discarded?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Please do not make me repeat myself. It’s exhausting.”
“They were put in the drawing room early this morning for Lady Sophia’s perusal, my lady.”
Ha.
