Regency Rumors (The Sinclair Society Series, Book One)

Chapter Seven

 And it all began again the next morning. Somehow, even though I'd settled into the routine, it became much harder to rise each morning when Mary knocked on my door. Once I had order restored, there was little I needed to do in the dressing room, which was fortunate because it took longer each day for my mind to become clearer. My steps were slow as I went down to collect the first tray I had to deliver to Eugenia.

On the first day I had to myself, the cook said nothing when I nearly tripped over a chair leg. She did, however, give me a sympathetic look. When I returned upstairs, it took me several minutes to rouse Eugenia. I suspected she must have lain awake during the night, and she mumbled incomprehensibly when I shook her shoulder. I understood completely, but if I had to face the day, so did she.

In the end, the mention of chocolate finally convinced her to sit up, and I could leave the room, confident she wouldn't fall back to sleep. Then I descended to the kitchen, with a quick detour for the morning's correspondence. I picked up the tray for Mrs. Burnham and started up the stairs again.

I should have known disaster would strike; I felt only half awake, and what better time for misfortune to come around? My foot caught the edge of the step, and I tumbled forward. The fine china toppled off the tray, which I'd let go of in an attempt to catch myself, and shattered on the steps. My right hand curled around the railing, saving myself from hitting the hard stone steps.

A cry of pain erupted from my lips as my shoulder jarred upon landing. The sound of tearing fabric accompanied my cry. Well, at least it had woken me completely. I pulled myself upright and groaned as I took in the mess now covering the stairs. Quickly, I snatched up the correspondence that was in danger of being ruined and waved the letters in the air to remove the liquid from the paper. There was the squeak of a door opening below as I knelt to clear the rest of the mess.

"Are you well, Miss Nelson?"

My hands stilled at the voice. Mr. Harper. Why was he here at this time of day? Slowly, I twisted around to look at the young man standing at the bottom of the stairs. He had his coat on, as though he'd been on the verge of going out, or Wilder had neglected to take it from him when he'd come in; something that didn't seem likely.

"I-I'm not hurt," I managed to stammer out when I realized he was staring at me. "It was simply an accident."

"Let me help you." He put his foot on the first step.

Two of us in this small space? Not a chance! "No, no. I can manage, sir," I said swiftly, struggling to keep the panic out of my voice. The more he and I interacted, the more likely it was he would recognize me. I was relieved to see Mary come into view behind him, no doubt drawn by the noise of my fall. "Oh, Mary. I missed the step and dropped Mrs. Burnham's tray."

Mr. Harper turned and stepped aside to allow the maid to reach me. She gave me a puzzled look as she climbed the stairs. "You go on up to the mistress, Miss Nelson," Mary said, nudging me with her shoulder. Maybe she could tell I didn't want to be there. In any event, I was extremely grateful for her rescue. "I will have the cook prepare another tray and bring it up to you."

"Thank you," I said, straightening up. I nodded once in Mr. Harper's direction. "Good day, sir."

There was a frown on his face when I turned to hurry on my way. The clink of china fragments landing on the tray echoed behind me. I breathed out as I stepped into the hallway. Yet another unexpected encounter with someone from my past. Lovely. Just lovely.

No one made visits this early in the day. No doubt an argument could be made he had a reason for doing so, something to do with assisting Mr. Burnham. But to twice find him where he should not have been...I couldn't help but feel suspicious.