Chapter 11
With the uproar from the Spanish Captain's arrival Liara didn't waste any time ducking out of the ballroom. Okay, she wasted some time, after all any man who threw open the Duke's dining room doors and then took a seat at the head of his table, was a man to watch out for. He was spun from a thousand Spanish tales whispered over spiced wine at the shoreline of a Castillo. She almost thought she felt his gaze brush over her once or twice but for some reason she hid behind a portly maid and averted her eyes. Oh dear... Liara knew if she was shy something was definitely wrong. But she had bit her lip and peered around the frazzled hair of the large one, and watched as the dark, tall man reclined in his seat casually and yet so in control- even as his proud jaw tilted low to a passing Baron. When the Captain smiled and indulged his friend in weaving a story about the war, Liara felt a tingle run along her arms and set up shop in her belly. It wasn't unpleasant, but that didn't mean it was acceptable. She rubbed her arms discreetly and slid out the side door, far away from a debonair man just docked from war.
The next steps her feet had taken were not ones that were unpractised. She had trod the same floor boards, avoided the same squeaks, and groans of certain doors that she had used many times before. She crept up the main stairs; the servant ones would be unusable at this time, but the marble staircase was empty- not a soul in sight to hear the soft padded steps of her new leather soles. Then just down the full length of the west wing corridor, into the yellow parlour that the Dowager Duchess had reportedly used as a young bride before her madly-in-love husband decided it was too far away from him, and finally there it was. A large door whose panels fit snugly into the wall, even with a mantle and mirror in front- but she knew the trick. Liara ran her fingers along the edge flipping the gold latch with ease and swung open the secret door- mantle and all, and fitted it shut behind her.
She didn't need a light, it had been many months since she had been asked to fetch something from the parlour in front and had found the secret chamber. The darkness was not foreign to her touch as she drew her palm along the wallpaper that she knew was now slightly faded, across the damask sofa and onto the table where she kept a candlestick and matches. She struck the flint and soft warm light filled what she now thought of as her room. Obviously no one came here anymore so she had begun to nest and brought together the few possessions she owned; a peacock feather once dropped from a duchesses cap, a thin strip of lace tossed away by a spoiled young guest, a few books collected from when Verushka insisted they all learn to read properly, and her journal written in ink slowly pilfered from pots over days and weeks so no one would suspect it was taken. They were small things, little tokens and trinkets collected from life, but they were hers.
She very rarely had a chance to see the room in the daylight but she knew that the small window from above let in a lovely shaft of warmth over the rug. Liara had even cleaned it- she cleaned everything in a fit of domesticity at midnight one eve. So she knew every inch of it, or so she thought, and yet when the light from her candle swept the chamber she caught a flash of gold protruding out between the sheets and the coverlet of the bed. She cautiously investigated and pulled free a stunning gold embroidered gown with full long skirts that rustled and a fitted corset bodice that laced at the bosom. Surely she would have seen this before, and yet- she looked around, everything else was in its place. She must have just missed it before, she sighed, there really was no other explanation. And then she smiled and twirled and quickly put on the dress in the light of the distant stars and her one stolen candle. It was magnificent, it fit her like a glove, a beautiful glove. Silken sleeves of fabric strips left her shoulders bare, to drape around her arms. The heart shaped neckline of the corset perfectly accentuated her décolletage and when she finally managed to tighten and tie the laces she loved the way it narrowed at her waist. The heavy fabric fell in flawless folds to sweep the floor and she could feel the detailed filigree and embroidered work on each panel of the dress. It was by far the most exquisite gown Liara had ever worn, and she had worn many- since she had also found a chest of old dresses stored under the canopy bed. She told herself she would take it off immediately but then she saw the lunar glow above and longed to feel its luminescence on her skin. With no one to keep her in check she quietly opened the panelled door again and slipped out as stealthily as she had slipped in. As excitement built in her belly and sent her senses spinning she managed to avoid a lower footmen, bribe an upstairs maid to pretend she was never there, and then fly out the side door into the darkness of the lower yards.
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Persuasion in the Pantry [Maid for More #1]
Fiksi SejarahHighest Ranking #3 in Historical Fiction A re-imagining of the true story behind the first assassination attempt of Queen Victoria and the maids who prevented her death. In a time of poetic conversations, sumptuous ball gowns and aristocratic men...