Page 66 of The Secret Life of a Lady
‘What do you think, Billy? You tell us your information, and Drake here will give you a job.’ Killian rested his hand on the table. It might be a mad plan, but the idea of this boy sleeping in a soft bed with three meals waiting for him every day filled Killian with an unfamiliar warmth. Perhaps the world was not quite as hopeless as he feared.
‘Would I get to send the money ’ome? Me family depends on wot I bring in.’
‘Your wages would be yours to do with as you please, though I hope you would put some away to save,’ Drake answered.
‘’Ow do I know you ain’t fibbing?’ His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Drake straightened. ‘I give you my word as gentlemen.’
Billy snorted. ‘That ain’t worf nuffink.’
‘You will soon learn it is worth very much indeed. But I will also give you this.’ Drake twisted off the signet ring on his pinkie and held it between his thumb and index finger. The candlelight glinted off the emerald set into a thick, gold band. ‘This ring was given to me by my father. It has been passed down for generations in my family. It is very important to me. I leave it in your hands as a token of my honour. You’ll return the ring to my butler when you come to my house tomorrow to begin your new job.’
A thrill of alarm coursed through Killian. Maybe the boy was right. Maybe Drake was a barmy toff. That ring had survived with Drake through the war. He swallowed it when they were captured to ensure its safety. Killian knew how precious it was to his friend. ‘Drake, perhaps…’
Billy’s gaze was captured by the ring. Drake reached over and took one of the boy’s hands, turned it palm up, then plunked the ring into his dirty appendage.
Billy swallowed. ‘W-wot if I fence it?’
‘You said you don’t steal, and you don’t lie. So, tell me now, are you going to steal my ring?’
Billy stared at the ring, then looked at Drake and blinked his owlish eyes. ‘I’m no thief, nor no liar neither. Your ring is safe with me.’
This was a terrible idea. Even if the boy was honest, putting such a valuable possession into his hands was like balancing the ring on the edge of a ship’s railing. One dip of the tumultuous waters surrounding young Billy’s life, and it would be gone.
‘Then share what you know about your sister. Think on my offer, and if you accept, bring the ring to my address tomorrow. I won’t be there, but I will leave instructions with the butler.’ Drake rattled off his address and made sure Billy knew exactly where to go. ‘If you don’t want the job, bring the ring back, and I’ll compensate you with money. Whatever sum you feel is fair. Cook will give you a meal before you leave. What say you, Master Bright?’
Billy wrapped his small fingers around the ring and squeezed it. ‘I say you’re one daft cove, but I’ll think about your offer. I need to talk to me mum and dad. They depend on me, you know.’
‘You would get one day off a week to see your family. But if that is not amenable to you or your parents, fine. Return the ring, and I will pay you for your information.’
Billy nodded, and with the deal done, he heaved another world-weary sigh. His skinny chest deflated like a wine bladder emptying its contents. ‘I know ’oo killed my sister. When Penny came to see my parents, she told ’em Sarah was s’posed to go for an in’erview at another gentleman’s ’ouse. The man’s son was doin’ the in’erviews ’imself. A real poncy toff ’e was. So says Penny.’
Killian leaned forward. ‘Who was it, Billy? Who was interviewing Sarah?’
Billy tucked the ring into his pocket and looked at Drake, then Killian. ‘Lord Alfred Cavendale.’
16
Hannah tried not to think about Killian’s return on the morrow. Assuming he made true on his promise to be back by the ball.
Despite her better judgment, she was lost in love with a man who could never offer for her. He needed a duchess, and she needed to remain a wallflower. A future was impossible. But her ridiculous heart refused to be swayed by her mind.
Stupidly, she had promised Ivy and Millie to accompany them to the village and visit the dressmaker. The two women insisted on finding something for Hannah in time for the ball. Both Ivy and Millie agreed any frock in a shade other than brown or grey would suffice.
Their dim view of her drab outfits was beginning to remind Hannah of Killian. Although almost everything did. The low sound of masculine voices at the dinner table. The scent of bergamot from her tea blending with the leather couch she sat upon. The dark green of the forest so similar to his eyes.
Unforgivably sentimental!
She could stare down the barrel of a gun without a flutter. Battle multiple opponents of greater strength and weaponry withfierce abandon. Dance with the Devil and escape unscathed. But now, the sight of black hair and a sharp jawline had her in a dither. How far she’d fallen when the very mention of Lieutenant General Robert Killian inspired her pulse to race, her lungs to freeze, and her body to burn.
‘Hannah, are you ready? You look a thousand miles away.’ Ivy swept down the front steps of Everly Manor and linked her arm with Hannah’s.
Millie was right behind her, red hair flaming like a torch in the mid-morning sun. ‘I’m dying to see you in something jewel-toned.’ Millie’s dimples winked in the sun.
Four hours later, Hannah felt far more exhausted than after any training session with Philippa. She couldn’t believe the number of silks, satins, and velvets they’d draped over her during the course of the morning. In the end, Ivy and Millie convinced her to purchase no less than five dresses and an incomprehensible number of underthings. She blushed to imagine what Killian would think if he saw her in such froth and frills. All but one of the dresses would be sent to Philippa’s house in London upon completion.
The final gown was being rushed over on the morrow just in time for the ball. It was a buttery cream silk with daring bronze stripes perfectly matching Hannah’s copper hair. Hannah insisted the sleeves be altered to allow for easy movement. The dressmaker raised a perfectly darkened brow when Hannah also requested for each dress to include large pockets.
