There were still at least half a dozen staff members in the front yard, and now I knew whose home I had been occupying. Lord Luke Oberon had never been an emotional man. If his servants caught me lurking, I highly doubt he would be sympathetic toward my reasoning. After the distress he just displayed over hearing of my break-in, if he found me, he would most likely drag me into court himself. I sighed again, more out of annoyance than anything.
My stomach growled audibly enough that it would have been heard had I not been alone. I took one more longing look out the window before giving up on waiting around any longer. It was probably going to be hours before the yard cleared, and my stomach couldn’t wait that long.
With the motivation of hunger, I intently watched as the servants scurried through the halls. More had shown up since yesterday, so perhaps I could disappear amongst them. Surely, they weren’t aware of everyone who worked for the lord, right? I observed the servants for a bit and took note that there were plenty of girls my age that made up the staff. Unfortunately, not a single one had blonde hair.
I tugged on a loose curl that framed my face with a grimace. If I wanted to sneak back into the kitchen, I would need a bit of a disguise. My eyes darted around the empty parlor in search of any useful items. There was the dish cabinet, a fire place, three sofas, two arm chairs, and endless bobbles decorating the walls and surfaces.
My first task was to change my outfit. The chamber maids wore clean white linen dresses that stopped above the knee with white stockings. From behind my favorite drapes, I undressed and turned my yellow apparel inside-out, revealing the white lining underneath. It looked a little funny after I put it back on, but at first glance, it shouldn’t be noticeable.
The next task was my hair. It took a moment to convince myself it was necessary, but after making up my mind, I darted out of the curtains to grab the necessary supplies. Without dawdling, I slipped a large white doily out from under a teapot, then dashed to the fire place to scoop ashes into it. I rushed back behind the drapes, checking behind me to see if anyone had spotted my movements. The coast was still clear.
With a dissatisfied groan, I brushed my fingers across the soot, blackening my finger tips. It wasn’t my worst idea, but it was certainly gross. I tried my best not to think about it as I finger-combed the soot through my golden locks. The gritty dust itched along my scalp, but it was doing a good job of masking the blonde. It took a second trip to the fireplace to accumulate enough soot for my color job, and before I knew it, my hair was a charcoal black.
I took a glimpse at myself in the window’s reflection, careful not to catch the attention of anyone outside. The color was patchy at best and certainly looked filthy, but at least it wasn’t an obvious sunny-gold anymore. I tied my hair back into a braid, then used the doily to dust the rest of the soot from my hands. Hopefully, Lawrence wouldn’t notice such a small item missing. Not wanting to consider the consequences just yet, I shrugged off the idea.
With my dress inverted and my hair disguised, the time had finally come. I looked back out the window as I saw that only four servants remained in the gardens. Maybe I should use my disguise to get myself out the front gates? I pondered the idea for a moment, but my head was pounding from the hunger. It had been days since I had eaten more than sugary porridge, and I wasn’t sure I could make it out in the woods for long in this condition.
After declaring my priorities to my stomach, I boldly stepped out of the curtain. My heart pounded anxiously, but my growling stomach was louder. I could do this. I just had to act like I belonged here. With my head held low, I marched toward the kitchen. Servants were excellent at blending in, but I had always been taught to stand out. This may very well end terribly.
Exiting the safety of the parlor, I stepped into the entry hall. One footman stood at ease on the far side of the room while a maid swept the top of the steps. The footman gave me a slight glance out of the corner of his eye, but I didn’t pause to let him get a better look. With a few purposed strides, I crossed the room calmly and entered the side hall. There were no sounds of shouting footmen or maids behind me, confirming a successful first test.
As I walked through the side hall, I passed a singular chamber maid sorting through the linen closet I had once hidden inside. She muttered something about wrinkled sheets, but once again, I moved too swiftly to catch it all. Next to the closet was a direct entrance into the kitchen which was the busiest area of the house. Hopefully, that would be to my advantage.
With a held breath, I walked confidently over through the doorway, keeping my eyes lowered. Not a soul paid me direct attention. There were nearly ten individuals running around the cluttered space, yet they were all too enveloped in their tasks to notice a new presence. I held my breath as I walked behind the infamous Madam Gillian. The woman was bent over the fire, tending to a pot of something that smelled delicious. My stomach gurgled aggressively at the mouthwatering aroma and I directed my hungry eyes to the pantry.
The door was barely creaked open and didn’t appear to be in current use. I risked a glance around the room and noticed a pile of fresh ingredients laid spread out across the main prep space. It seemed that they already had everything they needed for their meal prep. If that was the case, then the pantry would make a fine hiding spot for the time being.
With careful weaving, I managed to maneuver around the bustling servants without so much as grazing their aprons. The pantry was merely inches away, and I stretched out my hand to pull it open when a loud voice startled me to nearly pieces.
“Eh!” Madam Gillian quieted the entire room with a single syllable. It took a moment for the clattering of the kitchen to die down, so I took advantage of the moment to slide into the pantry. I left the door a crack open, just as it had been before. My muscles tightened stiffly around the door handle, begging that nobody had noticed my sneaking.
“Who tracked cinders into my kitchen?!” The cook’s voice boomed over the now-silent work space. I felt a shiver creep down my spine as I caught sight of her grievances. A thin trail of black cinders had been left along my path. The light dusting was nearly invisible to an unobservant eye, but my intense gaze took account of every speck as I followed the trail straight to the pantry door.
Oh no…
“This ain’t no day off!” Gillian held a ladle in the same manner a warrior would present a club. “Ya’ll know the protocol! If you’re at the fire, you best be washing your hands before doing anything else. What’s the master gonna say if he ever finds a cinder in his entrée?!” She smacked the ladle against the nearest surface with a loud crack. Every single body flinched at the action, including my own. I stared fearfully at the soot trail left from my darkened hair.
“Now clean this up and check the pantry for any sullied food. It looks like the culprit tracked them throughout half the kitchen!” She lowered her weaponized ladle before turning to her previous task. My heart pulsed all the way up in my ears as I watched the servants begin to sweep the trail of soot. A small-framed scullery maid crossed over toward the pantry with her eyes trained on the cracked door.
I retreated from my peephole and looked around desperately searching for a place to hide. An abandoned potato sack lay scrunched up in the corner of the cramped space. Without a second thought, I pulled the bag over my head and hunched down in the corner. Dust and debris filled my eyes and lungs as I burrowed into the filthy bag, and I held in a gag from the appalling scent of rotten potatoes.
The door swung open.
chapter six
I remained motionless inside the musty sack. After so much hiding, I was becoming rather adept at keeping still. My mother would have been proud—had she been around to see it. Though, I’m uncertain she would delight in the fact that I mastered the art by pretending to be a potato.
The newly entered servant was entirely quiet in their pursuit to clear the food from soot. I listened carefully as I heard hands lift and set down different food to inspect for dirt. The servant only surveyed the food for a few moments before seemingly feeling satisfied with its condition. I heard the clear sound of the occupant leaving the pantry, though I remained a potato for a moment more.
Sure enough, the girl returned only moments later with the light sound of broom bristles trailing her footsteps. I patiently waited as the girl cleaned my mess, thankful that my grouchy stomach had been content to quiet its audible growls for the moment. The sweeping continued to grow closer, until I felt the gentle brush of a straw bristle sweep against my exposed toe.
My blood stopped flowing as the shock of the touch processed through my system. I waited for a terrifying moment for the girl to scream or gasp at the sight of a hidden girl, but the cry never came. The girl continued without a single notice of the living being disguised as a bag of vegetables.
I wanted to sigh in relief, but anything more than light breathing was too risky. My head was beginning to feel woozy from the shallow dusty breaths I was taking. The girl continued her cleaning for an agonizing two minutes as I remained stiff and breathless. Once the last sweep was completed, the girl promptly exited the room with her full dustpan, then closed the door behind her.
Relief washed over me as I wiggled out of the filthy sack. I knew there was still a risk of her returning, but I felt a stronger sense of security with the firmly shut door. My lungs filled with the stale air of the musty pantry, loving every moment of it. In terms of hiding spots, this had probably been my worst yet, but at least it was effective.
With the eminent danger passed, I turned my attention to the shelves of stored food. They had added more items since my last visit, and every single morsel made my mouth water. As silently as possible, I opened a stored tin of assorted nuts. After stuffing a few handfuls into my mouth, I tossed a fair amount into my dress pocket that now lay on the inside of my inverted skirt. My stomach settled almost instantly from the acquired sustenance, but then fell victim to a terrible thirst. There wasn’t anything to drink inside the pantry, aside from a bottle of stored wine. The strong drink may satiate my thirst, but it surely wouldn’t help my strategic thinking. I passed over the idea as I nibbled a slice of stored bread. It must have been left over from the servant’s supper as it was slightly stale. The large loaf was already halfway devoured, so I didn’t fear anyone would notice another slice missing.