CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY NINE – HOUSEKEEPING DUTIES

A clap of Mrs. Kingsley's hands sent them scattering, one last direful glance over her shoulder ensuring they remained split in their efforts. Charlotte felt her heart rate quicken as she hurried down the dimly lit servants' corridor toward her tiny sleeping quarters, heedless of the trail of damp footprints in her wake. She could already picture the disarray that would greet Lady Griffith's sharp-eyed scrutiny, and it set her very bones to prickling with disquiet. Her meager belongings would be strewn about in utter dishabille – stockings puddled in the corner, rumpled dressing robe tossed over the chair back, literature most unsuitable for a servant's leisure time peeking out from beneath the bed. Not to mention the smattering of pilfered curios from the manner – damning evidence of light-fingered misdeeds she'd never dared disclose. Hand trembling slightly, Charlotte fumbled with the stiff latch, pulse rabbiting in her throat as she finally wrestled the reluctant door inward