Blood for Ink (The Scarlet Plumiere Series #1) by L.L. Muir Read Free Book Online Page A

was dark again. The staff must never know her alternate persona, so she could not very well send one of them.
    “An errand? Outside the house?” Stella’s hand froze as she reached for the brush.
    “Of course. I am not a prisoner here.”
    “Of course not, my lady.” Stella looked doubtful, but picked up the brush and set herself to her task.
    The Scarlet Plumiere felt a little doubtful herself. But the insults ringing in her ears pushed her on. Despite her earlier decision to let the matter drop, to cease playing cat and mouse with the Earl of Northwick, she could not retreat now.
    Silly man. He thought he was the cat.
    ***
     
    “"My lady, will not you consider waiting for Mr. Hopkins to return?”
    The Scarlet Plumiere stopped with one foot on the carriage step. "Why would I need to wait for him?”
    Stella stammered. "Perhaps he can see to your errand for you. Perhaps I can!” Her eyes were wild. Poor thing had not seen Livvy leave the house without her father since joining the staff a year before.
    “Stella, I assure you there is nothing to worry over. It is not as if I’ll be strolling in Hyde Park. I have one stop to make, then I will return straight away.”
    “You will not let me come along, my lady?”
    “No. It is something I must do alone. Of course John will be with me. I will be perfectly safe.”
    Her dutiful maid gave the large carriage driver a warning look that made the poor man swallow nervously. Perhaps she’d underestimated the girl’s mettle.
    “Are you sure you should leave your father, my lady?” Stella was so busy wringing her hands, she had forgotten herself.
    “If my father needs comforting, find The Rat. He will be perfectly happy until I can return. And the only danger I am in at the moment is that of freezing to death.” And with that, she pulled the carriage door shut before the maid could force her way inside. Livvy checked her reticule to be sure she had not forgotten the letter in all the quibbling. It was there, tucked neatly in the pink lining of her mother’s pearl studded reticule. It smelled of the woman. Next to the letter lay a perfume laden handkerchief, forgotten for three years. She pulled it out and held it to her nose, rubbing her fingers over the stitches that created a border of tiny blue flowers.
    “I wish you were here, mama.”
    But that was not entirely true. She would love to have had her mother at her side through her ordeal, but she doubted she could have played the role of her own savior had Lady Telford been hovering about. The woman had been so clever. After the first post by The Plumiere, her mother would likely have recognized her daughter’s handiwork and been too proud to keep her discovery to herself.
    So, motherless and unable to disappoint her mourning father, she had thought of a way to fend for herself. And with no daughters of her own, Lady Malbury had jumped at the chance to help. Too bad The Plumiere could not risk spending more time with the woman who ran The Capital Journal. Someone would surely suspect her. And if suspicion reached the ears of Lord Gordon, she would be dead in a week.
    The carriage made its way deeper into the city, though she dared not sit too near the window to see what might have changed since last she was out and about. She and her father spent only half the year in town, but since the scandal, she only saw it on her way to and from their country home. Perhaps that was why it always seemed The Great City in her eyes; it was a great mystery she would never have a chance to solve.
    She caught sight of a hack for hire and was blessed with inspiration. Without a parasol, she rapped on the wall with her knuckles.
    “Stop the carriage! John! Stop the carriage!”
    The big man obliged and was at her door before she reached for the handle.
    “What is it my lady?”
    “Hand me out.”
    “Here, my lady?”
    “Yes, here. I wish to hire that carriage to take me the rest of the way. Do not be offended, but I cannot risk