Page 79 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“Almost done,” he said, as he climbed into the smelly carriage.
She gave him a bright smile, but inside, she quailed. Getting to London was the easiest part. Getting to her grandfather would be the challenge. But first she had to meet his Eleanor.
The carriage maneuvered expertly through the crowded streets, avoiding vendors, children, and rubbish alike. Every scent imaginable found its way into the carriage, and she was both fascinated and appalled.
Eventually, the vendors disappeared, the people dressed fancier, and the houses grew large even as they tucked tightly together. She saw a tree or two, which was like a balm to her eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she loved greenery until it was gone.
And then they stopped moving.
She’d been gawking out the window, her eyes tired from all the staring. The view when they’d stopped was of a narrow house of five stories. She couldn’t imagine living in something so grand! And on the front door sat a massive knocker in the shape of an eagle.
She felt the shift in the carriage as the driver set the brake and climbed down. Then the door was pulled open, and it was time. And just like before, when she couldn’t climb into Mr. Bray’s cart, she sat there frozen. A tiny movement was all she’d need. A single push, and she could go again. But she sat there and wondered if she could even breathe.
Bram shifted beside her, but he didn’t push. And for the first time this day, he patiently waited for her to decide.
“Don’t say it,” she hissed. “Don’t say that I can still turn back.”
“I don’t need to.”
She glared at him. “Bugger.”
He chuckled, but his words were firm. “None of that now. If you must curse—and ladies do not curse—say something sweet likecakes!”
She blinked at him. “You want me to say ‘cake’ when I’m angry?”
“I want you to say nothing at all, but I’ve learned that’s not possible. Is ‘licorice’ better?”
“I’ve never heard of that. Is it a sweet?”
His eyes widened. “Never heard of licorice. You have had a hard life, haven’t you?”
She didn’t know how to answer that. She was cross with him for picking at her all day. She was cross with herself for sitting frozen now like a bump on a log. And she was cross because she didn’t know what a silly sweet was and had never had it.
Then the driver had enough. “’Ere now. Out ye go.”
Her gaze cut to the grizzled man, and she tried to smile. Damnation, her mouth was weak. It trembled as her cheeks pulled.
“Don’t be sick in me carriage!” he snapped. “Out!”
“We’ll be a moment longer,” said Bram, handing over double the coin than she thought necessary. Then he maneuvered around to step out first. “Look your fill now,” he said in a low voice. “But the moment you step out of the carriage, you lift your chin and look bored.”
“Why do you think ladies are never excited. Everyone feels happy or excited or mad or—”
His heavy sigh interrupted her, and she buttoned her lip. She’d pushed him too far. So she grew quiet, lifted her chin, and held out her hand.
He took it with a look of surprise and helped her down. But once on the walkway, her breath caught. Outside, the buildings looked four times as large, and the fierce brass eagle knocker even more frightening. But it wasn’t until a blank-faced butler opened the door that she became truly intimidated.
Inside was every lush and expensive thing in the world. Decorative vases, brass accents… Even the walls were gleamingbright with expensive beauty. Suddenly, she remembered that she’d been sweating in the heat of the carriage. That her clothing, even new, hadn’t been as crisp as the butler’s coat. That she’d never possessed gloves as white as his or seen a staircase that rose endlessly before her.
She swallowed, and her grip on Mr. Hallowsby’s arm tightened while he spoke to the butler.
“Good evening, Seelye. Is my sister at home?”
Sister?
“Good evening, Mr. Hallowsby. I shall see if Lady Eleanor is at home to you and…?” It took a moment for Maybelle to realize he was asking for her name. She was still stuck on the fact that his sister wasLadyEleanor.
Fortunately, Bram didn’t falter. “Miss Maybelle Ballenger requests a word.”
