“She hadn’t left the safety of her bedchamber since arriving within its protective walls the night before. The last of the fire’s embers lent the windowless chamber a sensation more of a crypt than a sanctuary. And despite the fragile state of her nerves, for the first time since arriving at Waldegrave Abbey her empty stomach was in danger of consuming itself out of desperation.For the hundredth time since waking, she pressed her ear to the locked door. Just as before . . . nothing. No footsteps..., no voices, no indication that she was anything but alone. None of which meant anything, of course. The abbey was large enough to house the entire population of the Livingstone School for Girls and still have plenty of empty prayer rooms to spare. Most likely, the esteemed guests were offered more distinguished accommodations in another area. But where? And for how long?Her forehead thumped against the solid wooden door. She had no idea. She couldn’t risk being seen—not if her face was posted on bills from Lancashire to Cornwall—but another day or two without fire, food, or water, and prosecution would be the least of her worries.She stood there a long moment, listening to the silence and her own uneven breathing.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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