“That is amazing!” Jenny said. “I can’t believe how different you’ve become!”
“Anyone seen Ruth?” came Mrs. Shepherd’s voice from the corridor.
Without warning, Ruth ran to the bed, threw the cap over the far side, and pulled the covers up to her chin. “You must help me!” she squealed.
Jenny nodded, snuffed out all but one candle, and dropped onto the edge of the bed just as the door opened and Mrs. Shepherd entered. “Is Ruth in here?”
“She’s not feeling well,” Jenny said. “I thought I’d sit with her for a moment.”
The cook walked over and glanced down. “Dear heavens! You look exhausted. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.” She frowned. “First Mrs. Rutley and now you. I hope it wasn’t my cookin’ that made you ill.”
Ruth sighed. “Your cooking can only heal, Mrs. Shepherd,” she said, her voice sounding weak. “I believe I only need some rest, and I’ll be back in the pink of health.”
Mrs. Shepherd patted Ruth’s hand. “Right you are, love. You just get some rest.” She turned to Jenny. “It’s good of you to watch over her. I’ll be seeing the others are in bed soon. But if she needs anything, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Shepherd,” Jenny replied. “I plan to stay with her for the night.”
“Good girl. Now, you get some rest, Ruth.”
As soon as the door closed, Ruth threw back the covers. “Thank you so much, Jenny! I’m in your debt.”
As Ruth leaned over the bed to retrieve the cap she had tossed aside, and an idea struck Jenny so hard that she gasped.
“Ruth, I do need your help!” she said in a harsh whisper that made her friend frown. “Teach me how to dress like a man.”
Ruth shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “I can’t help you get into trouble. Not you, of all people. I like you too much.”
Jenny threw her arms around Ruth. “I appreciate you saying so. However, you won’t be helping just me but Lord Dowding as well. Now, I can’t say why exactly, for I’ve been sworn to secrecy, but it’s for a good cause, I swear.”
“What type of man?” Ruth asked.
“What does it matter?”
Ruth laughed. “A stable hand is far different from a merchant but even far more different from a nobleman.”
Jenny gave her braid a tug. “Yes, that does make sense. Well, he must be of the landed gentry. Wealthy. Oh, and a bit evil.”
Ruth assessed Jenny with a critical look. “You’ve several problems to overcome. One, you’ll need a better hat than the cap I have. One befitting a gentleman. And proper riding boots. New ones. And most importantly, a suit. One worthy of a man of his station.”
“How will I make such purchases without drawing suspicion?” Jenny asked, pulling on her braid until her scalp ached. Her friend walked over and pulled up the window. “Ruth?”
“Must I do everything for you?” Ruth growled, her foot on the windowsill. “Tell the cobbler and tailor you’re purchasing gifts for your brother. Or cousin. Or even the King. Just lie.”
Jenny laughed and walked over to the window. “You will be careful, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Ruth replied. “Close the window but leave a small gap, so I can open it when I return.” Soon, she was scurrying down a nearby trellis.
Pulling the window until it was nearly closed, Jenny sighed. She did hope her friend would be safe.
When she returned to her room, Louisa sat up in the bed. “I heard about Abigail,” she said. “Is it true… Jenny? Why are you grinning?”
“I’ve finally devised a plan to help Lord Dowding,” she replied. “And I’m going to need your help.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tiny stones crunched beneath Nicholas’s boots as he strolled along the drive of his house. After days of chill, he had taken advantage of the mild weather that followed. He had spent too many hours, too many days, pacing his office, the parlor, his bedroom, the corridors in hopes he could conjure a plan to appease Lord Tulk. All to no avail.
The idea that the marquess would never pay for what he had done infuriated Nicholas. As a man of noble blood, he had every conceivable luxury afforded him, his every wish could be fulfilled. Yet Nicholas could not purchase the one thing he wanted above all else.