Feeling vaguely defiant, she mixed up another batch of water and white vinegar and carried her bowl to the first of the parlor bars. The solution soon cut through the film of dirt, the smell of vinegar making her eyes water. She had just taken up the newspaper and was swiping it across the glass when she saw a sporting looking carriage career into the yard, taking the bend in the road far too fast. Mina let out an involuntary cry, for the carriage was leaning over so far that for an instant she thought it would overbalance.
Then, just as quickly, it righted itself. The gentleman sat atop it, pulled viciously on the reigns and the four horses came to a stop. He threw down his whip, righted his top-hat and swiftly climbed down, calling to a passing ginger bearded man who Mina vaguely recognized as fixing up the curtain rail for her the day before. He took the head of one of the horses and started leading it toward the stable before the gentleman shouted again, and then wrenched open the door to his carriage, dragging out a dainty looking female from its recesses. His rough treatment practically set the poor child on her backside, Mina thought with disapproval. Surely the girl looked familiar, she thought, her nose practically pressed to the glass at this point.
Then she had it. It was Cecily Carswell, the ward of one of their old patrons at Hill School, Sir Matthew Carswell. Cecily had attended their school for two years before her guardian had deemed, she had received sufficient education and withdrawn her. Unfortunately, he had withdrawn his patronage at much the same time. Her father had been most upset about it. Mina picked up her supplies as she saw the objectionable young man tow Cecily in the direction of the inn. Closing the door discreetly behind her, she retreated into the shadowy corridor, pulling her headscarf down to obscure her features.
“You, there!” the arrogant young man hailed her. “Do you have such a thing as a private parlor for hire?” He cast his eyes around the dimly lit hallway with disdain.
“We have three,” Mina answered him calmly, gesturing their direction with her arm.
“Curtsey when you speak to me, slattern!” he fired up. “Impudence!” He turned back to the shrinking young girl, not waiting for Mina’s response. “There, now you can stop your sniveling for did I not say I would find somewhere we could take some refreshment.”
He flung open the first of the three doors and instantly recoiled. “Faugh! It reeks of vinegar in there! I vow, someone has broken a bottle of it!” He flung open the second and practically flung poor Cecily into it. “If you move before I return, I promise you will regret it, my girl,” he snarled and then was gone in a whirl of his caped riding coat.
Mina paused only for a moment with indecision. She did not like the way Cecily had flinched from her escort. What was the child doing in the company of this flashy looking youth? It looked like nothing so much as an elopement gone sour. She knew from experience that Cecily’s guardian, Sir Matthew Carswell was a stern, autocratic man. Had his ward run away with the first young buck who had made up to her? Mina did not like the look of Cecily’s companion’s face which the lamplight had illuminated briefly. He had a cruel mouth.
Stepping into the first private parlor, Mina set down her bucket and newspapers and removed her apron and headscarf. Smoothing her hair, she approached the second door and softly opened it.
“Cecily?” she said quietly and watched the young girl wheel around, tears streaked down her cheeks.
“Oh! Miss Walters,” Cecily exclaimed in a choked voice. “Is that really you?” She took a stumbling step toward Mina before pulling herself up.
“It really is,” Mina responded gravely. “You seem to be in something of a predicament.”
Cecily’s lip trembled and fresh tears spilled over. “I’ve been so wicked, Miss Walters,” she whispered. “This is a judgement on me.”
“Nonsense,” Mina replied bracingly. “But you would certainly be ill-advised to continue on your current course. Are you yet married to this gentleman?”
Cecily paled and shook her head. “No! Oh no!” she said, shivering.
“When did you leave your guardian’s protection?” From what Mina could recall, she seemed to remember that Sir Matthew’s residence was somewhere in Cornwall.
“Not two hours ago,” Cecily sobbed, and Mina deduced it was likely the longest two hours of Cecily’s life. “Though in truth I left his house for a party and then I left the party for- oh, it’s complicated!”
Mina held out her hand. “Come quickly now, child,” she said. “With me.” The girl did not even hesitate. With a faint cry, she teetered toward Mina and allowed herself to be propelled out of the private parlor and along the narrow passageway leading to the stairs.
“Quickly now!” Mina took her hand and led her up the two flights of stairs to her attic bedroom. When Cecily made to speak on reaching the first landing, Mina raised a finger to her lips to caution quiet. Cecily nodded and clung to Mina’s hand as if her life depended on it. “In here,” she murmured and shepherded the girl into her attic bedroom. “If you sit tight, I will endeavor to extricate you from this mess.” Cecily squeezed her fingers and then obediently sank down onto the bed. “Not a peep, mind,” Mina repeated. Cecily nodded, wide-eyed. “You must be as silent as the grave. As if your life depended on it,” she stressed. “Until I return for you.” Cecily nodded again, and Mina turned and made her way sedately downstairs until she reached the foot of them.
“You! Wench!” Cecily’s companion hailed her insolently.
Mina stood very straight and proper in her respectable black gown and fixed a cold eye on him. He was flinging open the doors to all the private parlor rooms. Gus stood next to him, looking perplexed. “The lady I arrived with, where is she?”
Mina regarded him steadily. He looked flushed from drink and ill-temper. She let her lip curl with disapproval and Gus stepped in hastily.
“This young gentleman’s lost his travelling companion, Mrs. Nye,” he said loudly. “Have you seen any young ladies hereabouts?”
Mina lifted her eyebrows. “I’ve seen no one,” she responded coolly.
“What?” the young man exclaimed furiously. “You saw us arrive! I saw you in the corridor—” he broke off his words now, plainly noticing the lack of apron and headscarf. “At least, I thought it was you,” he added sulkily. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”
Mina looked at Gus. “He’s been drinking,” she said coldly. “Mayhap you should ask the bar to stay the liquor where he’s concerned.”
“You bitch!” snarled the newcomer, making a wild grab for her, but Gus came solidly between them preventing contact.
“Now then, young master!” he bellowed. “Less of that! Less of that! This be a respectable woman and mistress here! She’s no replacement for the one you’ve lost!”
“What’s this?” asked a rough voice ominously and Mina watched Nye appear from the shadows, looking irritable and dangerous, in short, his usual self.
“This young fellow,” started Gus affably. “Seems to have misplaced—”
“I’ve misplaced nothing!” snapped the haughty young man, wheeling around to face Nye. “This woman—” Suddenly, he made a choking noise and Mina noticed Nye’s large hand was fastened around his throat. The young man’s face turned purple as he started clawing ineffectually at Nye’s wrist.