The Duke's Bidding

Chapter 8

It took a while for Elizabeth to regain her senses. Her breathing was ragged, her throat burned and felt bruised. She staggered over to the table, where a tray sat with a partially spilled cup of water and a plate of bread and cheese. He had come to bring her food. The tears really started flowing then. She drank what little water was left and slowly ate the bread, momentarily defeated. It took a few hours for her to come to grips with what almost happened.

It was around noon the following day when the new maid returned. She brought another bowl of the awful broth and more misshapen bread. "You shouldn't have tried to escape Miss. Now his Lordship is fit to be tied, he is." She looked around the room and tsked before leaving. Two more days passed and with it came more bruises as she was caught attempting another get-away.

It occurred to Elizabeth that while she had planned her escape, she had no resources to help her make her way. That is when the idea came to her. She could sew her jewelry into the layers of her undergarments. Quickly she ran to the Queen Anne, opened the bottom drawer, and took out her sewing kit. She chose one of her nicer chemises and a few of her smaller silk reticules. Over the next hour, her hands worked swiftly to sew the purses into the layers of chemise, forming compartments where she could hide her jewelry. After making sure to put a few stitches into the chains and crevices of each item, she shook the garment to make certain it did not produce any sound as she wore it. This was going to be her very best effort. She packed a knapsack with a set of undergarments and a few of her most precious belongings, a simple but beautiful embroidered handkerchief her mother had made with her nickname and a miniature painting of her when she was about Elizabeth's age. Stuffing the bundle under the pillows, she hoped that it would go unnoticed.

Elizabeth watched as Fredrick went for his usual morning ride. It was almost time for the maid to arrive with the food. Elizabeth put on her newly adjusted chemise, followed by an old brown dress, and pelisse. With some difficulty, she climbed into the chimney shaft. It was a quarter hour later before she heard the maid walk in. A moment later the maid ran out of the room calling for help, leaving the door wide open.

Elizabeth quickly climbed down the shaft and grabbed her knapsack. Holding her breath, she looked into the hall for any surprises that might await her, and saw that it was empty. Stumbling she ran down the hall towards the servant staircase in the back of the manor. She could taste her freedom, almost there. In her hurry to alert the household, the maid went down the main staircase, leaving the servants domain clear for Elizabeth. She rushed down the two flights of stairs and was about to run out through the kitchen gardens when she came face to face with Fredrick. He was just entering the kitchen door. Elizabeth did the only thing she could think of. She grabbed a pan and swung as hard as she could.

It was a complete surprise for Fredrick to come up against Elizabeth. When the pan came swinging at his face, he had barely enough time to pull back. It only grazed his chin. This was it—the proverbial last straw. Grabbing the pan, he threw it across the room, sending it crashing into a wall of plates and tableware. He grabbed her by the hair and slapped her face. He paused, and then with renewed zeal kicked her in the ribs and legs. She stopped fighting back after that and fell to the floor in a faint.

***

Elizabeth revived sometime later. From the scents in the room she recognized that she was in the library. A low whisper and the sound of the tumblers on the sideboard let her know that she was not alone. It was easier to keep her eyes closed with all the pain and swelling. Elizabeth tried to listen hard for the sounds surrounding her—scratching on paper, a light tap against the windowsill, loud panting a distance away. She was in so much pain, nausea overtook her and she began to shake uncontrollably.