Chapter 3


The night was black and the hour well past midnight. Anastasia pushed on, urging her horse, Zeus, to go faster. They had been traveling a few hours now and hadn’t reached their destination yet. Trouble was, she wasn’t sure exactly where that destination was. She had a plan, though. She would get into a village, find work, stable her horse, and build a life for herself outside of the prying eyes of her father’s precious society. She had grown weary of it all and wanted to live in peace, even if that peace meant she lived in poverty. She would rather be poor and free than rich and bound by too many rules and manners.

Zeus was tiring, she knew, but she wasn’t ready to stop yet. They needed to get a safe distance away from home so that her father could not find her. He might find her eventually; she was not naïve enough to think she could hide forever. But she wanted to try. As much as she loved her father, she could not remain there with him. She could not marry to suit his purposes and she could not face those horrible people anymore. She saw their faces as she walked among them at her party. They had always looked down on her and she had made it worse by fraternizing outside with Whit…Whit. Her mind wandered at the thought of him. He had been so handsome and funny and had talked to her as though she were a real person rather than just a girl. His eyes had twinkled when he looked at her and he had made her feel very strangely in her belly. But he had lied to her. He was one of them. And was probably worse than the rest of them, as he was the richest. Perhaps the twinkle in his eye had meant that he was laughing at her. Perhaps she had been just a game to him.

Her face grew red with anger the more she thought on it. That’s what it had been. The man had come out there to tease her, to make her feel at ease so she would make even more of a spectacle of herself. She longed to get her hands on him just once, to have her revenge for playing her for a fool. And now, thanks to him, or more likely thanks to her stupidity in trusting him, she was exiling herself from all the people she had ever known. She was running away from life as she knew it, starting over. Perhaps he had been the excuse she needed all along, but she would not give him the credit for that. Instead, she would continue to blame him because that suited her just fine. He was the bad guy and she would not forget it.

She and Zeus plodded on through the dark, her thoughts of Whit pushing her to keep going. Her anger was the fuel she needed. By dawn, the two travelers reached a village, small and nondescript. There were a few streets and several small thatched roof buildings. It seemed very homey to Anastasia. She wondered what sort of work she would find in a place like this. She pulled the carriage to a stop in front of a barn. The sign said “Blacksmith,” and she knew her horse would need tending by now. She knocked lightly on the door and it was answered in due time by a short, balding man who had long since waved goodbye to the prime of his life.

Anastasia smiled at him and curtsied slightly.

“Hello, sir. I’m sorry to call on you so early but my horse needs to be fed and watered. I thought maybe you could help me.”

The man looked at her, blinking. He was a gruff man normally, but she was a beauty of a sort they hadn’t seen in these parts in quite some time. He smiled back at her, a crooked smile that looked most unnatural on him and told her he would be glad to help. He opened the door wide behind him and set about fixing up her horse.

Anastasia looked around the blacksmith’s shop in wonder. She had never seen such a place. Swords and armor and chains and all kinds of things hung along the walls. It was warm from the heat of the fire, a nice reprieve from the chilly night air. She held her hands out to warm them.

The old man watched her as she took in his shop. She was obviously of some kind of noble birth and he wondered just what she was doing out on her own in such a way.

“The name’s McDougall, Miss. Anything you be needin around town, you just let me know. I know everyone’s worth knowing round here.”

Anastasia turned from the fire pit and smiled at him.

“Thank you most kindly, Mr. McDougall. I was actually wondering if you could tell me where I could find suitable employment here.”

McDougall did not hide the look of confusion that crossed his face. She was too prim and ladylike to want a job in the village. He recovered himself quickly, though, and tried his best to be accommodating.

“Well, miss, must admit there’s not much for work around here not already being done,” he told her.

Anastasia’s face fell. She had so hoped she had traveled far enough. She was so tired.

As he saw the look on her face, McDougall had an overwhelming urge to make this lady feel better. He had liked her smile and didn’t want to see her so sad.

“But there’s usually something needs doing up at the Amberley estate. They’ve got all kinds of help there and could probably rightly use some more. I could take you there, if you like.”

Anastasia smiled at the old man. “That would be so kind of you. Thank you, sir!”

He was not used to being called sir and blushed every time she said it.

“Lemme just finish up with yer horse and we’ll be on our way.”

McDougall, true to his word, gave the horse oats and water, and when Zeus had had his fill, they were ready to set off. Anastasia, though, stopped on their way out the door and turned to him.

“Mr. McDougall, sir? Would it be alright if I left my carriage here? I don’t want to seek employ at a new place and show up with a big carriage that they would have to stow for me…” she trailed off nervously.

“My dear, that would be fine. We’ll put it round back of the shop here.”

He led Zeus around to a spot behind his shop and tied up the hansom. Anastasia looked around and realized that it was fairly hidden here and unlikely to be seen by any passers-by. Taking her few bags out of there, she breathed a sigh of relief at being rid of the thing and after McDougall saddled his horse, the two set off for Amberley.

It was a quiet ride. McDougall was not much of a talker and Anastasia did not want to have to answer any questions. They rode in peace, away from the village and along a path through the woods. Anastasia was left alone with her thoughts and she wondered what her new home would be like. Would they hire her? Would they recognize her? She wondered who owned the house but was confident she had ridden far enough in the night to have escaped any area where her father’s friends and acquaintances held residence. She had never heard of Amberley but the name sounded lovely. She hoped it was large and beautiful. She pictured herself seated underneath a willow tree on her days off, reading her newest novel. She was not concerned with what they would pay her so long as it provided her enough to purchase novels.

McDougall whistled to himself as he rode along side her. He kept to himself, for which she was grateful. The path eventually opened up from the woods to a vast lawn in front of her. In the distance she could see a fine house, no almost a palace, looming over the horizon. The grounds were beautiful and perfectly manicured. Anastasia gazed about in awe. Never had she seen such a beautiful estate.

The house was enormous, made of stone. It was the closest thing to a castle she had ever seen. She wondered how old it was, if it had a history. She wondered if anyone like her had ever sat up in one of the turrets and stared out at the world, wishing for more, as she had often done herself in her father’s house. She imagined a house this size must have a library to rival anything she had ever heard of. She wished for the first time that she were to be a guest here and not a servant. But the thought passed and she knew once again that she had made the right decision.

McDougall watched her face light up as they neared the house. He knew she would be happy here. The Duke of Wetherby was said to run a good household and was a fair master to his servants. He had had ales at the local inn with several of the men who worked for him. They never had anything but good things to say about their employer. He hoped Anastasia would receive the same good treatment.

As they pulled the horses up in front of the manor, she turned to him and smiled again.

“I cannot thank you enough for you kindness, Mr. McDougall. It was a great honor to meet you and you have done me a great service in bringing me here. Whoever my new master is to be, I hope he is half as nice as you.”

McDougall again turned beet red. He smiled shyly at her and wished her well. He was about to turn around to head back when she stopped him.

“Please, sir. Sell my hansom as payment for your kindness. I won’t be needing it anymore.”

Anastasia looked at him hopefully, as she had been bothered that she had no way to pay him for his help. She realized that the hansom could fetch a tidy sum and the poor old blacksmith probably needed it much more than she did.

“I reckon, miss, that that hansom is worth a bit more than some oats and water fer yer horse. Tell you what, though. I’ll post a notice and if anybody wants to buy it, I’ll sell it to them. When I see you next, I’ll give you the earnings from it.”

Anastasia opened her mouth to argue, but McDougall held up his hand to stop her.

“Not going ter take no for an answer, young miss. You have yourself a good day then. I’ll be seeing you again, I hope.”

McDougall grinned at her and rode away back toward the village before she could argue. Anastasia was stunned. He had been so kind to her and without reason. Her heart was touched and she vowed that she would see to him someday if ever she had the means. He was a good man, and deserved more than he had been given in life.

With a deep breath, Anastasia alit from her horse and tied him to a post near the steps to the front door. She climbed the stairs and her hand shook as she knocked. The door was opened by a portly woman with grey hairs that all seemed to be standing on end. She saw Anastasia and her eyes widened.

“Can I help you, miss?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I hope so. I’m seeking employment,” she replied nervously.

“Employment, are ya? Well come in then. I’ll see what I can find fer ye,” the lady told her in a slight Irish brogue.

Anastasia stepped into the house and her breath caught in her throat. It was magnificent. The marble floors were waxed to a high polish; the mahogany wood of the grand staircase stretched in front of her like a dream. Anastasia looked all around her, taking in everything she could. The woman hurried along in front of her, showing her through the rooms, down a set of stairs and to the servants’ quarters.

“What’s yer name, lass?” she asked as they walked down a long hallway.

“Annie,” Anastasia said hastily. “My name is Annie, ma’am.”

“Well, Annie, I’m Mrs. O’Connell. I run this household. Our master is just now away on a trip. You’ll meet him soon enough. This here is where ye’ll be livin. And if you can use a mop, if you can dust, and do t’average chores, that’s what ye’ll be doin.”

“I can do that. Thank you for taking me on, Mrs. O’Connell.”

“We can always use the help around here, lassie. Tis a big house, as you can see. Lots to do. Now, I’ll let ye have a bit of a rest, here’s your room. You look like the cat dragged you in and that just won’t do. I’ll see to a uniform fer ye in a bit.”

She opened a door onto a small cell-like room. There was a single bed with a ratty quilt on it, a night table, dresser, and a window. Anastasia set her bags down on the bed and went to look outside. The tiny window looked out onto the back yard, which went on it seemed like forever. She briefly wondered how many acres the estate was. She wished she and Zeus could ride around and find out, but she knew there would be work to do instead.

Mrs. O’Connell shut the door behind her, leaving Anastasia alone in her new room. She put her bags on the floor and sank down on the bed. It was a bit lumpy, but after riding all night to get there, it wasn’t long before she was deep in a dreamless sleep