Page 95 of Once Upon a Reckless Rogue

“Yes, yes of course.” The butler handed the man a few coins, and the watchman tipped his hat and left.

“You had better come in,” he said, holding the door open for her. The tall, slightly bent-over man guided her to a small bench. “Stay here. I’ll get one of the girls to come down and I will alert the duke.”

She nodded and hoped the duke would not be angry with her. When a young maid appeared, she smiled and stoked the fire back to life and put a pot on to boil. Elena was about to endure more English tea she suspected.

“You poor lass, lost in that fog. I would have fainted,” the maid said and put out a cup and saucer. “Milk?”

Elena nodded. At this stage, she would drink it no matter how they made it. She rubbed her arms to get some feeling back into them.

“Here, put this on,” said the maid, putting her shawl around Elena’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Elena said with a smile.

She drank the tea down in three swallows; she had not realized how thirsty she had been.

The butler returned. “I have sent a message to Lord Ashton. In the meantime, we have made a room ready for you so that you can rest. This fog may not lift until morning. The duke’s sister would like to come and see if you are all right.” He stepped aside just as a young woman in her bedclothes but wrapped in a dressing gown stepped into the room. “This is Lady Marianne Ashton. My lady, this is Mrs. Markham,” he explained.

The young lady smiled. “Mrs. Markham? Are you the captain’s wife?”

Elena sighed inwardly and spoke in French. “I am sorry I do not speak English well, but I do speak French.”

“Oh, well.” She sat in a chair opposite her. “I am Marianne Ashton, and you are?”

“My name is Elena Markham. I am sorry to have bothered you at this hour.”

Marianne flicked away her apology with a dainty hand. “I am more concerned for your welfare. What were you doing in this fog in the first place?”

Elena bit her lip while she tried to come up with an excuse. “I made a wrong turn and got lost.”

“But…where were you going all on your own?”

“I cannot tell you. It was a foolish thing, and I have paid the price for it.”

Lady Marianne patted her hand. “Of course. And you are unharmed?”

“Yes. Thank you. I do not want to keep you from your bed.”

“It is no trouble. Let me take you to your room. I doubt anyone will come for you until the fog lifts.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Would you have me let you sleep in the kitchen? You must be exhausted.”

She was exhausted, and it was kind, but… “And if my husband does come here?”

“We will bring him straight up to you. My brother, the duke was quite insistent.”

What could she say to that? A command from a duke who had already been so generous to her. Elena nodded and followed Marianne out into the servant’s hall and up the stairs to the first floor. The grand entrance was to the right, surrounded by dark corners; only the light from the duke’s sister’s candle lit the way.

“I know a little Spanish you know, not enough to converse, but a few words. I hope we may become amigas.”

Elena smiled. These English ladies all appeared to want to be friends with the strange Spanish woman. Perhaps their own English friends were not so good? Well, she was happy to make friends, and Lady Marianne was so kind. “I would be happy to be an amiga.”

“I also know, hola and pasar la sal.”

Elena laughed—hello and pass the salt—were practically the extent of her English as well. This young lady did know how to make her feel at ease.

“Here we are,” Marianne said, opening a door. “This is the yellow room, for obvious reasons. I hope you will be comfortable here. I had one of my nightgowns brought down as that is far too pretty a dress to sleep in. A maid will come and help you dress in a minute and take your gown to press it for tomorrow. There is water on the nightstand and a candle here.” She lit the candle next to the bed. “I hope to see you in the morning.”