When the last patron sauntered out of the spa that eve, aglow after a mud bath, Leah added up the day’s take. She’d now earned enough revenue to secure passage to France and start a decent life there. Jane interrupted her plotting with a knock and a curtsy. “The tailor waits without, Lady Radcliffe. He needs put the finishing touches on the wedding dress.”
“Oh, shoot!” She slapped a hand to her forehead as she tried to collect herself. “What day is this?”
“Wednesday, milady.”
The wedding was a week from Friday. She had nine days left to plot her escape.
“Tell the tailor I’ve taken ill and will send for him when I’m better,” she rattled off the excuse. No sense wasting any more of his time.
Hiding the money under her drawer full of satin undergarments, Leah gazed out the window at the
