Free The Passage by Irina Shapiro

My heart rate began to slow down and the ringing in my ears finally subsided somewhat.  The room was quiet except for my breathing, which still sounded awfully loud to my ears.  Hugo seemed to be holding his breath as he leaned over me. 
    “Can you hear me, madam?  Are you badly injured?”  His voice was like the brandy, smooth and calming, and not at all what I expected.
    “I... I think I’m all right,” I mumbled as I tried to sit up.  Hugo unceremoniously pushed me right back down as he rose to his feet. 
    “Don’t try to get up; you’ll be overcome by vertigo.  Just rest awhile.  Would more brandy help?” 
    Under the circumstances, I had no idea what would help, but I nodded, and he poured another inch into the cup.  I accepted the cup from his hand and took small sips between gulps of air while Hugo removed his hat and tossed it onto a nearby chair, followed by his wig.  The simple gesture instantly changed his appearance, making him appear younger and less intimidating.  I’d always wondered how men wore their own hair under those ridiculous wigs and was surprised to see that Hugo’s hair was shorn short, the dark waves only about two inches long. 
    Hugo pulled up a straight-backed chair and took a seat next to me, taking my hand gently as he did so.  “Hugo Everly at your service, madam.  Please accept my heartfelt apology for the mishap.  I didn’t see you walking there.  In truth, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the lane and wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings as I was preoccupied with my own thoughts.  Very careless of me.  I trust you are not badly hurt?” he asked again, searching my face for confirmation that he wasn’t responsible for causing me irreparable harm. 
    “I just got the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.  I’ll be quite all right, thank you, Lord Everly,” I mumbled, suddenly very conscious of my absurd position.
    “May I know your name?”
    “Neve Ashley.”  I was surprised to see Hugo look at me with renewed interest; his eyes narrowed as he studied my features. 
    “The niece of Anthony Ashley Cooper, the Earl of Shaftesbury?” he asked, clearly stunned.  “I thought the Christian name was Nell, but I must have been mistaken.”
    I was about to deny any relation to the Earl of Shaftesbury, who’d been a fervent supporter of the Duke of Monmouth, but then reconsidered.  If it bought me a little time, then what was the harm?  Not like I was planning to stay and impersonate the lady.
    “Ah… yes,” I mumbled as I averted my eyes.  What if he decided to take me home?  I was so busy considering the what ifs that I hardly noticed what Hugo Everly was saying.
    “I’m sorry, did you say something?” I asked, feeling even more flustered.  Hugo cocked his head to the side, appraising my mental state, which he must have found to be somewhat sound as he sat back and continued his train of thought.
    “I was just saying how sorry I was to hear of your recent bereavement,” he said, still watching me like a hawk.  I, of course, had no idea whom he was referring to, so nodded sadly in the hope that he would just change the subject.  He didn’t. 
    “I had great respect for your uncle and didn’t believe a word of the accusations of treason against him.  A blatant fabrication.  It’s tragic that he had to die in exile, so far away from the home that he so loved.”
    “Yes, it was,” I agreed, hoping I wouldn’t give myself away by making some glaring mistake.  I was saved from further discussion of my ‘uncle’ by the appearance of a boy.  He was twelve or thirteen, still sweet-faced and childish, but with a hint of impending manhood hovering somewhere behind the eyes and in the silky fuzz that darkened his upper lip.  He stopped dead when he saw me on the chaise, but a stern look from Hugo put paid to any speculation he might have had regarding the situation.
    “Mistress Ashley, may I present my nephew, Clarence