Late For The Wedding

Three

He missed his footing again on one of the high, cramped steps and likely would have fallen if the maid had not held his arm with such a firm grasp. The close call sent a small tingle of dread through him. It was a long way down to the bottom of the narrow staircase.

“Steady as ye go, m’lord,” the maid said bracingly. “We don’t want ye to have an accident before we get there, do we? Come along now.”

“What d’ya expect? It’s bloody damned dark in here.” Perhaps he should have refused those last two glasses of brandy she had pressed on him before they left the bed chamber. His head was spinning and he was starting to worry about his stomach. “Ought to have used the main staircase.”

“I told ye, sir, the master doesn’t like staff to entertain guests alone in their bed chambers.”

“Beaumont always was a bit prim and proper when it came to that sort of thing.”

She was a strong wench, he thought; stronger than she looked. She was able to hold the candle in one hand and maintain her grip on his elbow with the other. But, then, good maids were required to be sturdy, he reminded himself. They not only had to be able to hoist heavily laden breakfast trays, full chamber pots, and huge stacks of linens all day long, they routinely carried their burdens up and down long flights of steep stairs like this one. In addition to the exercise, there was all that sweeping and scrubbing and washing.

Bound to build stamina in a wench. But he liked em that way. That was the reason he preferred to take his evening sport with one of the hardworking girls in a household rather than with the professional whores in the brothels. The latter were inclined to be weak and listless from an excess of gin and the milk of the poppy.

He told himself that the long climb would prove worthwhile when they reached their goal. Doggedly, he plodded up another few steps.

“How much farther?” he muttered. His heart was beating so strongly he wondered that she did not hear it.

“We’re almost there.”

The step in front of him seemed to waver in the flaring candlelight. He had to work hard to set his foot down on it, and even at that, he nearly missed.

The maid tightened her grip on his arm and urged him upward.

“Come along now.”

When he reached the top of the cramped stairs, he was wheezing.

The maid halted in front of a door. He was grateful for the pause, because he could no longer conceal his ragged breathing. He was sweating profusely too. Should have left my coat and neckcloth in my bed chamber. Ah, well, I’ll have them off soon enough.

“Are you feeling all right, sir? You look a trifle feverish. Mayhap you had a bit too much to drink tonight, hmm? I trust you’ll be able to last long enough to give me a nice romp before you fall asleep. I’d hate to think we climbed all this way for naught.”

There was something different about her now, he thought. Her speech no longer suited her station. It had taken on a more cultured, educated tone. She did not sound like a servant.

He wanted to ask her a question, but his tongue was thick in his mouth and no longer functioned properly. The dizziness was getting worse.

For some reason the sight of the night sky sent a jolt of terror through him.

“Don’t worry, m’lord, brandy has this effect when you put a drop or two of laudanum in it.”

“What’s this about laudanum?”

“Never mind, I know just what you need to restore your senses.” The maid opened the door. “Some fresh night air.”

“No.” He shook his head when she tugged him through the opening. “I’m not feeling well. I think I’d better go back to my bed chamber.”

“Nonsense, m’lord. You need the exercise. I hear you’re engaged to marry a young lady in a few months. She’s young and healthy and she’ll expect a lusty husband on her wedding night.”

He peered blearily at her. “How… how did you know that I’m engaged?”

“Gossip gets around, m’lord.”

The balmy night air did nothing to clear his head. The full moon began to move in a circle overhead. He closed his eyes, but that only made the spinning sensation worse.

“Almost time for you to have your little accident, m’lord,” the maid said cheerfully.

Sudden panic shot through him. He managed to get his eyes partway open. “My wh-wh-what?”

“Rest assured that there is nothing personal about this. Just a matter of business.”