smile.
“‘Staff’?” Gideon murmured with equanimity to Lily. “‘Pole’?”
Bloody gentry cove and his bloody poise, amused by everything, thinks he owns the world , Lily quietly seethed. And then she could practically hear her mother’s voice in her head: Don’t say “bloody,” Lily .
“Lovely accent, by the way, Miss Masters. You’re certainly versatile,” Gideon added.
Lily ignored him.
When she pushed open the boarding house door, the dank smell of the hallway rushed out to meet them like a huge eager beast. Lily was uncomfortably conscious of the contrast between her home and Kilmartin’s plush lodgings. For a brief moment, she fervently wished that she really did have fleas, just so that a few could have made themselves at home in Kilmartin’s furniture. “Freakishly lovely,” was she? It made her want to growl.
Suddenly a low rumbling started up beneath their feet, and then the tired slats of the boarding house floor began rhythmically jumping. Thud, thud, thud, thud .
It heralded the approach of the formidable Mrs. Smythe.
Her voice reached them before she came into view. “I’ll ‘ave no shoutin’ in me halls, Lily Mas—”
Mrs. Smythe saw Gideon Cole.
She froze as though she’d run smack into the flat of a shovel. And then the lower half of her face twitched, and convulsed, and then suddenly, improbably…
Mrs. Smythe was smiling.
It was horrible.
“And ‘oo ’is this , Lily?”
Dear God, Mrs. Smythe was not only smiling, she was flirting .
Gideon bowed to the matron, who uttered a strange helpless little syllable that sounded almost like a coo.
“Alice!” Lily called desperately. “Alice, where are you?” She attempted to free her arm; Gideon refused to relinquish it. At last her sister came running up the hall, her braid flying out behind her. She halted abruptly behind Mrs. Smythe and peered around her at Lily. Alice’s eyes, confused and frightened, traveled the long length of Gideon, and then skipped to Lily’s face.
“Lily?” her voice quavered.
“We’re going on a journey, love,” Lily said gently, wishing Gideon would let her speak to Alice privately. “This is Mr. Cole. We’ll be traveling with him. I will be… in his employ for a while.”
Gideon bowed politely to the little girl. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Alice.”
Alice said nothing; she merely stared, bug-eyed and stone-faced and silent, up at Gideon.
And then Gideon smiled at Alice. Lily watched the smile happen, the slow lift of his fine mouth, the soft warmth flooding his eyes. And she couldn’t help it, really; her own heart skipped a beat.
Before Lily’s very eyes, Alice melted. She grinned up at Gideon with the gap-toothed grin normally reserved for Lily. Little traitor , Lily thought.
“I’ll need some of my things, Mr. Cole.” Lily wasn’t anxious for Gideon Cole to get a look at their meager little room. “I can fetch them myself now, if you’ll just… let… go ….” Lily tugged fruitlessly away from the warm fingers curled loosely around her arm. Surely his fingers would have cramped by now. Surely no one could maintain a clutching position this long.
“Oh, I am sure you can fetch them yourself, Miss Masters.” Gideon sounded amused. “But I will accompany you to your room. Thirty pounds,” he added softly, a reminder of her debt to him.
Lily glowered and inhaled sharply, but that turned out to be a bit of a mistake; the scent of Gideon Cole rushed into her. Sometimes a stiff wind blew in from the sea, strong and cold enough to be scoured clean of the London odors that usually rode it, and his scent was a little like that: fresh, sharp, a hint of portent. It worked on her senses like gin; her glower wavered, along with her courage.
She was out of her depth with this man.
Lily lifted her chin and met Gideon’s dark eyes with a stare that she hoped belied her own quivering uncertainty. His eyes might be amused now, but she’d seen them coolly murderous when
“‘Staff’?” Gideon murmured with equanimity to Lily. “‘Pole’?”
Bloody gentry cove and his bloody poise, amused by everything, thinks he owns the world , Lily quietly seethed. And then she could practically hear her mother’s voice in her head: Don’t say “bloody,” Lily .
“Lovely accent, by the way, Miss Masters. You’re certainly versatile,” Gideon added.
Lily ignored him.
When she pushed open the boarding house door, the dank smell of the hallway rushed out to meet them like a huge eager beast. Lily was uncomfortably conscious of the contrast between her home and Kilmartin’s plush lodgings. For a brief moment, she fervently wished that she really did have fleas, just so that a few could have made themselves at home in Kilmartin’s furniture. “Freakishly lovely,” was she? It made her want to growl.
Suddenly a low rumbling started up beneath their feet, and then the tired slats of the boarding house floor began rhythmically jumping. Thud, thud, thud, thud .
It heralded the approach of the formidable Mrs. Smythe.
Her voice reached them before she came into view. “I’ll ‘ave no shoutin’ in me halls, Lily Mas—”
Mrs. Smythe saw Gideon Cole.
She froze as though she’d run smack into the flat of a shovel. And then the lower half of her face twitched, and convulsed, and then suddenly, improbably…
Mrs. Smythe was smiling.
It was horrible.
“And ‘oo ’is this , Lily?”
Dear God, Mrs. Smythe was not only smiling, she was flirting .
Gideon bowed to the matron, who uttered a strange helpless little syllable that sounded almost like a coo.
“Alice!” Lily called desperately. “Alice, where are you?” She attempted to free her arm; Gideon refused to relinquish it. At last her sister came running up the hall, her braid flying out behind her. She halted abruptly behind Mrs. Smythe and peered around her at Lily. Alice’s eyes, confused and frightened, traveled the long length of Gideon, and then skipped to Lily’s face.
“Lily?” her voice quavered.
“We’re going on a journey, love,” Lily said gently, wishing Gideon would let her speak to Alice privately. “This is Mr. Cole. We’ll be traveling with him. I will be… in his employ for a while.”
Gideon bowed politely to the little girl. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Alice.”
Alice said nothing; she merely stared, bug-eyed and stone-faced and silent, up at Gideon.
And then Gideon smiled at Alice. Lily watched the smile happen, the slow lift of his fine mouth, the soft warmth flooding his eyes. And she couldn’t help it, really; her own heart skipped a beat.
Before Lily’s very eyes, Alice melted. She grinned up at Gideon with the gap-toothed grin normally reserved for Lily. Little traitor , Lily thought.
“I’ll need some of my things, Mr. Cole.” Lily wasn’t anxious for Gideon Cole to get a look at their meager little room. “I can fetch them myself now, if you’ll just… let… go ….” Lily tugged fruitlessly away from the warm fingers curled loosely around her arm. Surely his fingers would have cramped by now. Surely no one could maintain a clutching position this long.
“Oh, I am sure you can fetch them yourself, Miss Masters.” Gideon sounded amused. “But I will accompany you to your room. Thirty pounds,” he added softly, a reminder of her debt to him.
Lily glowered and inhaled sharply, but that turned out to be a bit of a mistake; the scent of Gideon Cole rushed into her. Sometimes a stiff wind blew in from the sea, strong and cold enough to be scoured clean of the London odors that usually rode it, and his scent was a little like that: fresh, sharp, a hint of portent. It worked on her senses like gin; her glower wavered, along with her courage.
She was out of her depth with this man.
Lily lifted her chin and met Gideon’s dark eyes with a stare that she hoped belied her own quivering uncertainty. His eyes might be amused now, but she’d seen them coolly murderous when
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