Ring of Secrets

by Roseanna M. White

  A shudder coursed up her spine. “I am in your debt.”

  “Nonsense.” Viney reached to a small, tottering table against the canvas of the wall and picked up a cup. “Here. A little watered wine.”

  She may have refused it had Viney left her with a choice, but the girl held the cup to her lips for her. Winter swallowed to keep it from spilling. “Thank you.”

  “I’ve a little bread if you are hungry.”

  “No, I…I ate not long ago.” Hopefully her stomach would make no complaint to prove she had ignored her dinner more than eating it, but she had no intention of taking food from this girl’s mouth. “My name is Winter. Winter Reeves.”

  Viney nodded and studied her for a long moment. “I have never before felt the need to ask this question when a new woman arrives, but why are you here? A fine lady such as yourself.”

  Winter’s fingers balled in the silk of her skirt. She was almost surprised Grandfather hadn’t made her change into her homespun before he brought her here. He must have valued being rid of her quickly above the cost of the dress. “I am not so fine a lady, Viney. Just a farm girl who has been dressed up.”

  A look of concern flashed over the girl’s face. “You were that man’s mistress?”

  “No! No.” She raised a hand to her pounding head. “His granddaughter, much to his dismay.”

  “Family has treated you so?” Viney set the cup back down, a frown on her dirty brow. “How very sad. It is loss of family that delivers most of us to this place. I lost my mother in the Great Fire and had nowhere else to go.”

  Winter couldn’t battle back the horror. “So you came here four years ago? You couldn’t have been more than ten.”

  Viney offered a crooked smile. “Fourteen. I am eighteen now.”

  “My age.” She seemed so young, while Winter felt ancient. Should it not have been the other way around?

  “Really?” Delight lit Viney’s countenance. “I wouldn’t have thought we had even that much in common.”

  A particularly loud shout came through the canvas walls, one delivered with slurring tongue and including phrases Winter had never heard before.

  Viney winced and turned to tug the makeshift door closed a bit more. “Sorry about that, Miss Winter. I wish I had real walls, a real door to keep it all away from you.”

  “Walls and doors don’t change anything.”

  The girl greeted that cynicism with a cheerful grin. “True enough. Only we can do that, with the good Lord’s help.”

  Faith rang in that pronouncement, belief coloring every word. And as she spoke, Viney looked even younger.

  No, not younger. Indeed, Winter now detected lines and creases on her face that one expected of a harsh life. ’Twasn’t youth she saw in her after all. It was innocence.

  Innocence—the very thing Winter had made a mask of, had falsified for her own protection. How did she come to find a genuine form of it in this, of all places?

  Viney scooted closer and leaned in to examine Winter’s head. “I cleaned it best I could while you were unconscious, miss, with wine and water, but you would do well to get yourself to a physician so it might be closed up properly. And I cannot shake the feeling that you must leave the minute you are able. Your place is not here.”

  Conviction rose, overtop the pain, leaving Winter no choice but to nod in agreement. “Yes, I must.” Had she not determined in the drawing room that she would not accept this fate? That had not changed. And yet… “What of you, Viney?”

  “Me?” She looked surprised by the question. Then she smiled, sure and bright. “No need to be concerned for me, miss. I’ve only a few months left before the consumption takes me home, I suspect. I shall do whatever good I can here. Care for the other girls.”

  “But…” Winter would have shaken her head, had the continued thumping not warned her against it. “How can you survive in this place?”

  “Let us see if you can stand, shall we?” Viney scooted to her side and supported her with an arm around her waist. She did indeed feel frail and small. “They are only circumstances. The men out there may define me by them, but thank the Lord, He does not. Are you ready?”

  She wasn’t sure. The pain still throbbed, her heart as well as her head. And mad as it seemed, she hesitated to leave this dark, noisome hovel with its soft, invisible light. But urgency nipped at her, a still, small voice saying she must hurry. She must go back to Hampton Hall.

  No. First she must go to Robbie and give him the information about the French. Beg him to send it to Washington. Then she must return to her grandparents’ home and lay out a few facts for them. That she was not a rag doll to be tossed about on their whim. And that she was perfectly capable of living her life without their interference. If they wanted her gone, so be it. But it was not their right to determine where she would go.

  God of my end, strengthen my spine and fortify my spirit. I feel You pulling me up from the mire, out of the pit I’d let them pull me into. I want to do Your will; I want to go where You lead. But I cannot rise on my own. I can be nothing but that Thou makest me.

  Her head steadied. The pain eased from the forefront of her mind, though it didn’t really decrease. Still, she could nod without agony. “I am ready.”

  Viney moved to a crouch and helped her get to her knees and then to her feet. “Slowly, now, miss.”

  After a gradual straightening Winter stood upright and found she stood several inches taller than Viney. “How did you manage to get me in here?”

  Viney chuckled. “I wondered that myself, once I had you lying down. I suspect a few angels lent me their strength. Though you are a bit worse for the wear.” She frowned and swiped at a streak of something dark on Winter’s skirt.

  “It hardly matters, when one considers how blessed I am that you found me first.”

  But the girl still frowned. “I had to rinse all the lovely powder from your hair and take out the style to get at your wound.”

  “Good. I detest the stuff.” And if this night had proven anything, it was that such vanities were indeed like the wind.

  An idea struck, and she reached up to unfasten the pearl necklace from her throat. Then she took Viney’s hand and lowered the strand into it.

  Viney’s eyes went wide. She shook her head. “No, miss, I cannot. ’Tis far too dear for me.”

  “I want you to have it. You can untie the strand and sell each pearl as you have need. And ’tis nothing special to me. My grandparents bought it for me solely to create an appearance for which I don’t care. There was no affection behind it.”

  Trembling fingers closed over the gift, and Viney blinked back tears. “I thank you, miss. My pride wants me to refuse it, but I cannot. I think this may be the Lord’s way of providing the protection for which I have been praying. If I am careful, it can keep me until the end, and I will not have to…”

  Winter smiled and patted the girl’s hands. “Then let us thank the Lord I was brought here tonight. For it resulted in two of His daughters being blessed with the opportunity to help one another, and make a friend besides.”

  Viney nodded, slipped the necklace into a pocket, swiped a tear from her cheek, and held out her hands. “We must pray before you go.”

  Winter clasped her hands and closed her eyes.

  “Father in heaven,” Viney whispered, “we thank Thee for leading us in this unlikely situation. For bringing me outside at that very moment so I might see Winter be tossed from the carriage, and for her faithfulness in generosity. We thank Thee for seeing beneath our surfaces and to our hearts. And now we ask Thee, Lord my God, to spread over us Your wings of protection, this night and in the trials to come. Guide our every step and direct our every way. Get Winter safe to wherever Thou would have her go. Sustain my spirit as my body fails. Let this night be one we remember for the surprising blessing rather than the pain that could so easily overwhelm. For Thou art our shield and buckler, our truth and light. We praise Thee for all Thy ways, and ask these things in the name
of Thy holy Son. Amen.”

  “Amen.” As Winter opened her eyes, determination flowed through her. Her grandparents may be done with her, Washington may not think he needed them anymore, but her purpose was not complete. “I will pray for you every day, Viney.”

  “And I you. Let me…” Viney pulled the canvas back a bit and peered outside. “We are on the outskirts of Holy Ground here. Barclay Street is directly across from us. Granted, this part of it is hardly reputable, but it is best you get out of here quick as you can. Do you have somewhere to go?”

  “I do.” She knew not how to get there, but that small detail seemed insignificant given the strong feeling that she must make all haste. “I am ready.”

  “One moment…there.” Viney held back the canvas flap and motioned to her right. “That way, hurry. Go with God.”

  “Thank you.” Winter ducked through the opening and stepped out into a town of similar tents and lean-tos, a more permanent looking building here and there. Row after row, far as she could see, all covered with shadows that clung in spite of the lanterns that made a path through the village of harlots.

  Women stood outside many of the hovels, some dressed in filthy rags, others in clinging silks that they had arranged in ways the seamstresses had surely never intended. Calling, all of them, to the men who ambled by.

  Most of the men wore the red coats of the army, though a few she spotted were in common dress. And they laughed together, joked with each other and the females, as if this were a fair instead of a finger of hell itself.

  Go.

  She gripped her skirt and took off at a run across the empty street. Though her ankle protested and her head felt trapped in a vise, she could not slow down. She made it across the street and tried to recall the sketched map she had seen of the city, to determine where she likely was and where she must go now.

  “Miss Reeves?” The voice was familiar and incredulous.

  She turned around to find Major Lane standing in the middle of the road with a slack jaw. Her stomach clenched, but she ignored it and put on a small smile. “Oh, good. I seem to be lost, Lieutenant.”

  He only stared at her for a long moment, and then he shook himself and strode to her. “What the devil are you doing here?”

  The devil was surely involved, but the Lord had outwitted him, as usual. So she smiled again. “Did I not just say I was lost?”

  “But…” He shook his head and looked her up and down. Perhaps he saw the filth upon her dress, the now-bare neck that usually had some bauble or another fastened around it. And, of course, her hair, hanging free and dark down her back. “But how did you get to be lost? And as far from your home as you could possibly get within the city?”

  Eyes wide, she shrugged. And touched a hand to the side of her head. “I have an injury. Perhaps I wandered and was unaware of it.”

  Bennet’s brother didn’t seem to find that idea plausible. Funny how his eyes, which she knew well were the same shade of blue as Bennet’s, conveyed none of the same warmth. “You would have had to wander for hours. And I find it hard to believe anyone allowed that to happen.”

  Again, she shrugged. “’Tis a mystery, to be sure. Now, am I going to have to wander for hours in the direction of home, or are you going to be a gentleman and offer to drive me?”

  He stared at her and crossed his arms over his chest. For a moment she feared he might make some lewd comment, but then he shook his head. “Does my brother know you are here?”

  Of all the ridiculous… “How could he, when I didn’t know? Though while we are asking questions, does your brother know you are here?”

  A light of amusement entered his gaze. “I daresay he wouldn’t be surprised, if none too pleased. Though I fail to see why anyone should judge me for it. Even the most sanctimonious of men end up here at some point or another, it seems.”

  As if her stomach needed to churn any more. “If you don’t intend to help me—”

  “Oh, calm yourself. My driver is waiting around the corner.”

  He offered his arm, but she shied away from tucking her hand into its crook. “Lead the way, Lieutenant.”

  “Touchy, are you not?”

  She sent him a hard glare. “Oh, I am sorry. I cannot think why I would be so.”

  “Hmm.” He started toward the corner, his gaze on her with every step. “Blast it, I do think Benny was right all along. You are not as stupid as you make yourself seem.”

  “Such flattery warms me to the core.”

  He grunted and motioned toward a small carriage parked before an empty lot. “I think I prefer you brainless.”

  “Typical of you.” She paused before the familiar conveyance. “You rode in your mother’s carriage in pursuit of your unholy entertainment. She must be so proud.”

  Major Lane rolled his eyes as his footman opened the carriage door. “Head injuries do not agree with you, Miss Reeves. They make you terribly cross. Try to avoid them in the future, will you? At least when in my company?”

  “I shall endeavor to oblige.” She climbed in with the servant’s assistance and settled on the seat. Really, she was grateful Mrs. Lane’s vehicle was here—in fine weather like this, the major could as easily have ridden his mount or even walked, which would not have been much help to her at all. The Lord must have whispered in his ear, though she suspected Major Lane may disagree.

  “And now you are grinning.” The major took the seat across from her. “You are a bizarre creature.”

  He certainly stared at her as if she were, his gaze lingering on her hair. With a huff, she tore the ripped lace from the bottom of her sleeve and used it to secure the locks at the nape of her neck.

  He sighed. “To Hampton Hall, then.”

  “Nay.” Satisfied her hair was under control as much as possible for now, she lowered her hands again. “With all due gratitude and respect, Lieutenant, I do not intend to roll up to my grandparents’ house with any man after nightfall. I’m sorry to deprive you of the laud of heroics, but I would prefer it if you would drop me a few streets away.” Namely, a bit closer to Robbie’s.

  His brows arched upward. “I must object, Miss Reeves. ’Tisn’t safe for a young lady such as yourself to be walking the city streets in the dark.”

  Not all of Grandmother’s lessons were without their place. Now, for instance, she appreciated being able to project regal command with a single glance. “I will either get out at Queen Street or I will walk all the way from here, but I will not arrive at Hampton Hall with you.”

  For a long moment he stared, as if unable to grasp what she said. Then at last he shook his head, muttered a curse, and leaned his head out the window. “Queen Street, Johnny.” When he sat back again, amusement had crept back into his face. “Does my brother realize what a stubborn female he is pursuing?”

  A small smile pulled at her lips. “Oh, I daresay he does, Lieutenant. I daresay he does.”

  Fifteen

  Winter waited until the Lane carriage had turned the corner before she made a dash for the side street that would deliver her to Robbie’s door. She had never had cause to visit him at home before, but she had made sure she knew where said home was in case a time arose when she needed to get a message to him and Freeman could not assist her.

  A time such as now.

  “Winnie?”

  She nearly shrieked at hearing her name when she was still a good minute from Robbie’s, but after slapping a hand over her racing heart, she spun to face her faithful servant. “Freeman! What are you doing here? I was just thinking of how you were not around to help me.”

  He emerged from the shadows that had concealed him and folded her into a tight embrace. “I saw him cart you off, but he had me locked in the storeroom of the stable. Took a while to get out, and I thought I would see if Mr. Townsend would help me look for you.” He drew back enough to put a hand to each cheek and tilted her head this way and that, examining and tsking at what he saw. His hands shook. “He did this to you?”

 
“I…cannot say. He had someone strike me with something, I think, but I am not certain the main injury is from that. It could have been from when he tossed me from the carriage to the street.”

  Even through the depths of night, the rage in his eyes burned hot and clear. “I could—”

  “I know.” She patted his forearms and pulled away from him. “But the Lord had me in His hand. I will tell you all about it as we walk home, but first I must speak with Robbie.”

  “Come, then. I would like to see you in the light, anyway.”

  She offered up a prayer of thanks as they walked, feeling completely safe for the first time all day. Freeman was by her side, the Lord’s wing was above them, decisions had been made. When she knocked on the door, ’twas with undeniable peace.

  Robbie pulled the door open so quickly she wondered if he had been standing directly before it, though the surprise in his eyes told her he hadn’t spotted them as they walked up. “Winnie, Freeman. The Lord must have heard my prayers. I was about to sneak onto the Hampton grounds and rouse you, Free.”

  Excitement brimmed in his voice. Winter hadn’t seen him so happy in months, which, strangely, nipped at her peace. To be sure, she had prayed for his black mood to end. But leaping straight from it to this…

  Though when she stepped inside, his joy dissolved into an interjection she had never heard fall from his lips before. He took her gently by the chin to angle her head toward the light. “What happened to you?”

  “Is it that bad?” Shying away before he could probe the wound, she moved past him in favor of the mirror she spotted on the opposite wall. When she tilted her face down to see the place from which the pain radiated, she found an unmistakable gash. Though it surely would not be so obvious had Viney not parted her hair there to clean it.