Page 1 of Honor Unbound

Chapter One

Lady Mary

London 1821

Islapped atthe hand prodding my shoulder. “Go away,” I muttered. My eyelids felt pasted shut, and I didn’t want to expend the effort to try to open them. It had been a long couple of days.

“Wake up.” The voice held no gentleness, no deference for the mistress of the house. In my exhausted state, I found it more irritating than usual.

“Unless the house is on fire, Jane, you’re dismissed.” I pried open one eye to glare at my lady’s maid. Soon to be former lady’s maid. “Permanently.”

She gave me her back and bustled across the room as fast as her rheumy joints would allow. The candle in her hand flickered as she opened the armoire and pulled out a wrapper. “Stop being a slug-a-bed. Quickly. Put this on.” She tossed the silk garment on the bed.

I looked at the clock on my side table. I couldn’t make out the hands, but it was early, I could tell. Diffuse light from the full moon broke through the crack in my curtains, making the light-colored cotton of Jane’s skirts glimmer.

I sat up. “What time is it? And why are you already dressed?” My night bonnet slid toward my ear, and I tugged it back into place.

“It’s about half after four, and you know I don’t sleep.” She pressed her lips together, the grooves around her mouth deepening. “Now get up. We need you.”

Jane had been my maid since before I was out in society. I knew every inflection of her voice. The urgency in it wiped the remaining sleep from my brain. “What is it?” I had been making a jest about a fire, but perhaps I shouldn’t have. I knew from personal experience the devastating effects of that disaster. I sniffed, but didn’t smell any telltale signs of smoke.

I wasn’t prepared for Jane’s next words.

“There’s a dead body on your front steps.”

I paused, one foot in a slipper, the other hovering above its mate. “Pardon me?”

“You heard correctly.” Jane hobbled to the bedroom door. “Mr. Stavers has already been notified and is standing guard.”

I had a hard time envisioning my elderly butler standing guard over anything, much less a body, so I shoved my foot in the remaining slipper. I knotted my wrapper as I hurried to the door. “Do you know who the man is on the doorstep?Isit a man?” I asked as we hurried down the stairs to the foyer.

“It is, and I do not.” Jane blocked the candle’s wavering light with her hand as the breeze from the open front door threatened it. “We were hoping you might recognize the unfortunate fellow.”

Mr. Stavers looked as deprived of sleep as I felt. He blinked at me through puffy eyes. “Morning, milady.” He ran his needle-thin fingers through the wisps of hair on his head. “I daren’t call it a good one.”

A strange man stood beside him. The gas lamp half a block down the street faintly illuminated a dark-blue suit. Unfortunately not that of a night watchman. “And who is this?”

“Joseph Higgs, ma’am.” He turned a matching blue cap in his hands. “I deliver your milk each morning.”

I finally turned my attention to the body. He was lying along all four of the steps that led down to the street. His hand was outstretched, as if ready to knock on my door. Even in the scant light I could see the pool of dark liquid that spread out beneath him.

“And it was you who found him? While making your deliveries?” I stepped around the body, cocking my head. The man appeared to be in his thirties with dark hair and well-tailored clothes. There were no marks on the one side of the face I could see, and he wasn’t known to me.

“Yes’m. Well, me and Miss Smith, here.” He nodded at Jane. “She’d just handed me my morning cuppa when we heard this poor soul stumbling along the pavement. He fell to his knees right back there at the entrance to the alley down to your kitchens. He pulled himself up, but I saw that he was struggling, so I walked back to the street to see if I could help.”

“Wewalked to the street to see if we could help.” Jane frowned down at the body, as though his dying was a personal affront against her offer of assistance.

“Yes’m.” Mr. Higgs slapped his cap against his thigh. “But when we reached him, he was just like this. He breathed his last before us.”

I looked down the steps and to the pavement in front of my alley. In the faint light, I could just barely make out the trail of blood the man had left. I wondered how far the trail went and why the man hadn’t stopped at any of the houses before mine on the street to ask for help.

“Who did you send for a constable?” I asked.

Mr. Stavers and Jane shared a look. “We haven’t yet,” my butler finally said.

I rocked back on my heels. “A man has died. Violently, it appears. Why wouldn’t you send for the authorities?”

“The lad passed every other house on this street. He died climbing the steps trying to get to you.” Jane tucked her shawl more tightly about her frail body. “We thought, if his death has something to do with you, you might not want the Charlies to come calling.”