Page 14 of My Dark Duke

“Thank you, Mrs Harrod,” Lillian replied, her voice thick with emotion. “Please forgive my tears; I have had a very long day and I long for my bed.”

“I’ve a stew heating on the stove, would you not have a wee bite?” Mrs Harrod pressed, but Lillian shook her head.

“Thank you, but no,” she said, firmly. “I’m really too tired. Goodnight, Mrs Harrod, thank you for your concern.”

The Scotswoman gave Lillian’s hand a squeeze, before bustling off to the kitchen to prepare supper for the other boarders.

With weary legs, Lillian traipsed upstairs to the room she shared with Sally, her mind still preoccupied by her unexpected callers. How long did she have, until they called again?

Sally, who was washing for supper in the basin atop the battered washstand, did a double-take when she spotted Lillian’s tear-stained face.

“What’s the matter, duckie?” she asked, as she dried her hands. “Old Harrod been on at you? Bridget said she was fit to burst earlier over some gentlemen who called looking for you.”

“I don’t know who those gentlemen were,” Lillian replied, as she sat down upon the bed they shared and removed her boots. Her feet ached and the excitement and energy she had felt after her kiss with Thorncastle had dissipated entirely, leaving her flat and lethargic.

“That’s what Bridget said to Mrs Harrod,” Sally answered, with a smile. “Said they were probably just two gentlemen who’d caught sight of you walking down the road, and wanted to learn your name. No harm done, Mrs Harrod will have scared them off.”

Lillian nodded, but was unable to form a response to Sally’s bracing words. The other girl looked at her strangely and Lillian struggled to keep her face impassive.

“You’re not in any sort of trouble, are you, Mary?” Sally pressed, as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “There’s no shame in it. We all have secrets.”

Lillian met Sally’s brown gaze, and the other girl deduced from her eyes that something deeper was troubling her.

“Bridget said the Duke of Thorncastle offered you a position on his staff,” Sally said, in an abruptvolte-face.

“His attentions are not as honourable as he portrayed them to be,” Lillian replied, dryly, as she resumed taking off her boots.

“A man like that, a man with wealth, can protect you far better than Mrs Harrod, if youarein trouble,” Sally answered, with a shrug. “Think about it; life is long, and sometimes it’s easier to share the burden with someone else.”

The gong for supper sounded from downstairs, which caused Sally to smile.

“Thank heaven for that,” she said, brightly. “I’d eat a nun’s habit right off her head, I’m that hungry.”

“That might be more palatable than Mrs Harrod’s fare,” Lillian replied, with a weak smile.

Sally chortled in response and left the room. Once the door had closed behind her, Lillian washed quickly at the washbasin - not minding that the water was cold - and changed into her nightrail.

As she untied her hair and brushed it out, she padded over to the window to look out at the street below. A few pedestrians wandered the road, all rushing home for their suppers. A gentleman loitering outside the house opposite Mrs Harrod’s caught Lillian’s eye, and her heart began to beat at a faster pace.

Was he one of Lord Bailey’s thugs?

Lillian stepped back, so that she was out of sight, and peered at him closely. The man, from what she could see, did not look like a ruffian, but what reason did he have to linger outside her window?

Just as the thought crossed her mind, the gentleman gave a wave to a young woman walking towards him—his wife, perhaps.

Relieved, Lillian pulled the thin curtains closed on the scene below. Despite the innocent explanation for the gentleman’s presence, she could not help but feel a chill of fear. Just because she could not see Lord Bailey’s thugs did not mean they were not there.

After all, they had managed to track her to Cheapside, had they not?

Lillian pulled back the wool blankets which covered the bed she shared with Sally. The feather mattress was thin and lumpy, but she welcomed the respite it offered. She pulled the blankets up to her chin and rested her head against the pillow, but she knew sleep would not come.

We all have secrets.

Lilian wondered what secrets Sally had hidden away from the world and if they were as deadly as Lillian’s own.

Unbidden images flashed through her mind. Mr Hope at the back door to the rectory. His harsh voice when he had told her that the elderly Lord Bailey had finally passed, and that Felix was to take his place.

And then?

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