Page 84 of Seducing the Knave

As the woman went around the room, Elle smiled graciously at each introduction, allowing proper etiquette to override her internal distress. She might be feeling utterly confused and uncertain, but she sure as hell didn’t need to show it.

“It is lovely to meet you all,” she said finally before she decided to end her torture and simply ask what she wanted to know. “Do you all visit here often?”

The question inspired a short round of smothered laughter.

“You misunderstand,” Mrs. Flynn noted simply. “For the time being, at least, we are all residents of this house.”

“Oh,” Elle replied stiffly, trying not to reveal the fierce tumult of emotion that statement triggered. “I see.”

She didn’t see at all.

“And what should we call you?”

Elle turned her gaze to the Black woman—introduced as Jessie—who asked the question with a friendly tilt of her head.

Disconcerted that she’d been so focused on discovering the reason for their presence, she’d forgotten to introduce herself, Elle replied in somewhat awkward haste, “My name is Elle.”

“Just Elle?” Lucy asked bluntly. “No last name?”

Deciding the girl meant no disrespect, Elle gave her small nod. “Just Elle.”

“If ye weren’t born with one, ye know ye can just pick one,” Lucy replied. “That’s what I did.”

“Stop making assumptions, dear. We know nothing of her situation,” Alice, the woman with the infant, said gently as she gave Elle a curious stare. “Haven’t you noticed her posh accent? She’s not like us.”

One of the other women snorted crudely. “That’s clear as day, innit?”

“Even if she didn’t look an’ sound like a friggin’ rum mort, the difference ’tween ’er and us is obvious by where she sleeps. If she manages to get any sleep at all,” another woman with short-cropped blonde hair whose name Elle couldn’t recall at the moment remarked with a sly look in her eye.

A few private murmurs, chuckles, and whispers floated about the room.

Tempted to take offense at the way they talked about her so freely, Elle was about to respond with a haughty retort, but stopped herself when she realized there was no malice in their tones or expression. For the most part, the women simply appeared curious.

Lifting her chin, she offered a quick smile. Perhaps, if she were open and honest with them, they might respond in kind and satisfy a bit of her own curiosity. “The truth is...I recently found myself in some trouble—”

“We knows all ’bout trouble, don’t we?” interrupted the woman with the cropped hair before she gave a husky sort of laugh that wasn’t purely one of humor.

“And the Griffin took ye in,” Jessie said softly, finishing Elle’s explanation. “It’s what he’s done fer all of us.”

Alice stepped forward, bouncing the infant gently against her bosom. “It’s what he does for any woman or child who’s stuck in a situation where desperation has run them into a corner.”

“Or when someone ye think’ll take care of ye turns on ye,” Lucy added in a stark, wavering voice before Jessie drew the young girl toward her with a firm arm around her shoulders then whispered something Elle couldn’t hear.

Whatever she said caused Lucy to give a short little laugh as a pretty blush pinkened her cheeks.

“He took all of you in?” she asked quietly to no one in particular.

“Us and the others still upstairs and many more over the years,” Mrs. Flynn replied.

“Any woman or child in St. Giles or the East End rookeries knows to seek the Griffin if they’re desperate or...damaged,” Jessie added quietly as she lowered her gaze to where she held Lucy’s hand in her lap.

Elle’s chest ached at the pain in the woman’s voice and the flash of terror in the eyes of the young girl next to her.

Glancing over the room then, she noticed a similar haunted look was repeated in many of the gazes turned back at her. But then, shining through the shadows, she saw something else...something stronger than pain or fear. She saw the protectiveness in how the women surrounded the youngest of them. There was an undeniable connection evident amongst the group, a sisterhood born of similar experiences. An unspoken understanding.

And then, as a weighted silence hovered about the room, the baby in Alice’s arms decided it was a good time to blow spitty little bubbles from her bow-shaped mouth, inspiring delighted chuckles and proud smiles from every woman present.

Whatever these women had endured in the past, it was clear they felt safe here. Max had given them a sanctuary. A place to heal themselves and lend each other strength and compassion. A home guarded by the imposing figure of Langworth at the front door beneath the fierce and unwavering protection of the Griffin. The gravity and beauty of what she’d discovered here nearly overwhelmed Elle with emotion.

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