Page 32 of The Lady and the Footballer
She stepped into the pub without much notice, anyone who saw her not giving her a second glance as she walked over to sit at the bar and order a drink.
Colin tried to converse with the other club members and drink his ale while keeping a close eye on Lily to ensure no one bothered her.
He gave her time to finish her drink while he did the same, then made his excuse of going to the bar for another.
“Another ale,” he said to Milton, sliding his glass over the counter as he took the barstool next to Lily, not looking at her.
“You look lovely tonight,” he murmured low enough that no one else could hear as he settled in, bringing the glass to his lips once he received it back.
“Thank you so much,” she said pertly, a smile dancing on her lips.
“Where did you find those clothes?”
“They are my maid’s,” she explained. “I told her a friend needed to borrow them for the night. She was most confused and intrigued, but she agreed.”
“If nothing else, they make me very curious about everything you have hiding underneath.”
He snuck a quick look at her then, noting her eyes widen and her cheeks flush before she returned her gaze to in front of her.
“Do you have the key?” he asked, taking pity on her and changing the subject.
“I do.”
“That a girl. Why don’t you leave first? Go back to the corridor that you previously used to head upstairs. If anyone asks, you are looking for the ladies’ room. I will come a few minutes later to avoid any notice, and we can begin our search.”
“Very well,” she said. “Try not to be too long. I don’t have as much time as I’d like. I’m not entirely sure when my parents will be home tonight. It depends on my mother’s mood, which is as reliable as the British summer — promising sunshine but delivering rain.”
“Understood,” he said, hating how much he enjoyed this woman and how interested he was in the next words that were about to come out of her mouth.
He was going to have to be careful, or he would be the one to find himself in more trouble than it was worth.
Chapter Twelve
Lily tried not to scratch her body as she walked up the stairs, but it was difficult when this dress seemed to make every inch of her itchy.
It was worth it, though, for the dress had its desired effect. It had even taken Mr. Thornton a minute to recognize her, and she laughed again when she remembered how his eyes had widened when she had walked through the door. Here, she had thought she would take on the guise of someone who didn’t require a second glance – apparently, unless it was from someone who knew exactly who she was.
She winced as the floor creaked beneath her feet when she walked down the corridor, but she hoped the noise from the tavern below would provide coverage for her.
She reached the end of the hallway, eyes narrowing as she peered through the dimness at the door handle, barely visible in the faint light filtering through the corridor window. She hadn’t thought about this part.
It took her a few tries to insert the key in the lock. She had to hold onto the handle firmly, and she wiggled it a few times until the key finally turned, and she could push the door open.
The moonlight allowed her to find an unlit oil lamp on the desk in front of her.
She lifted the glass chimney before reaching into her pocket and striking a match. She held it to the wick, pleased when it caught. It wasn’t a task she typically performed, and she hadn’t wanted to look like a complete fool if Mr. Thornton arrived and she hadn’t managed it. She replaced the glass over it to control the flame and moved the lamp so that it was away from any papers but close enough that they would be able to see.
The corridor creaked behind her, and she whirled around, relieved to find Mr. Thornton filling the doorway.
“Mr. Thornton, you’re here,” she said in some relief, and he smiled that crooked smile at her.
“I’d prefer you call me Colin if you don’t mind,” he said. “Not many people call me Mr. Thornton. It’s far too formal for me.”
“Colin,” she said, testing the taste of his name on her tongue. “You may call me Lily.”
She was not used to the informal, but she liked the idea of him using it.
“Very well, Lily,” he said, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. “Should we lock the door?”
