Seeing Danger (Sinclair and Raven #2)(17)

Lord Danderfield, the man her brother proposed she wed, was nearing seventy and natured like Nicholas. Lilly could imagine her existence should she yield and marry the man. Why did he want her? Surely he did not need the money of her dowry, as she knew he had wealth and estates, so what was his motivation? Or more importantly, what bribe had her brother offered him to offer for her?

Thoughts spiraled in hopeless circles around her head on the short journey across town. Finally she forced them aside as the carriage pulled up outside the little house. Taking the five steps up to the neat brown front door, Lilly looked up at the property that she alone owned. Mine, she thought, feeling the cold knot inside her begin to unravel. He can never take this from me. Lifting a gloved hand, she knocked.

“Miss Braithwaite, the door is always open, especially to you.”

Mr. Davey stood before her with his perpetual smile in place. Short and stout with a sprinkling of gray hair, the man could lift her spirits with just a look.

“This is your home, Mr. Davey.” Lilly stepped inside. They had this conversation every time she called. “I own it, but you live in it. Therefore, you deserve to open the door to callers who knock.”

He harrumphed, as he always did.

“A Miss Sinclair is due to call in an hour. I shall be in the parlor by then, going over the accounts, so show her in there, please.”

“Of course.”

After removing her coat and bonnet, she handed both to him.

“Come, Bee, we should have time for a cup of tea before Miss Sinclair arrives, as I missed breakfast.”

The kitchens at Temple Street were one of Lilly's favorite places to visit. Walking down the long pale blue hall, she noted the table with a vase bursting with a jumble of flowers. Such a small thing, yet beautiful in its simplicity, unlike the flowers arranged to perfection in her brother's house. Turning left, Lilly took the stairs down.

“Good morning, Mrs. Davey,” Lilly said, smiling to the woman standing at the bench with her hands in a bowl of something. Built like her husband, she had thick red hair and bright blue eyes that never missed a thing.

“Good morning, Miss Braithwaite, Bee.”

Pulling out her flour-covered hands, she wiped them on a cloth. “You take a seat and I'll have you both a nice cup of tea and cinnamon bun ready in minutes.”

Lilly loved this room; it was always warm and smelled of so many delightful scents. Often Mrs. Davey was singing or laughing, and it was a place she had spent many happy hours in. It was a hive of activity, even though only one person worked in it.

“I would love a cinnamon bun, if you have one spare.”

“Of course I have one spare for you, Miss Braithwaite.”

After securing the house in Temple Street, Lilly had had Wilson seek out the perfect couple to run it, and it had been he who recommended the Daveys. The couple had been the perfect fit.

“Sit.”

Lilly ignored the seat Mrs. Davey waved her to, and moved to sit on the bench. With a small leap, she landed on the surface.

“I'm sure sitting on a bench swinging your legs is not proper behavior for a young lady of your station,” Mrs. Davey clucked.

“And yet I have been doing it for many months now,” Lilly said, moving her legs slowly back and forth. She wasn't sure why she enjoyed sitting up there, but she did. Perhaps because she rarely got to behave in such a way, or perhaps because this house was hers, and she could do as she wished in it. “Besides, being a lady is not always easy. There are so many rules and etiquette to follow. It is just nice to swing one's legs occasionally.”

“I'm sure there is a deeper meaning in there,” Bee said, taking down cups.

Lilly just being allowed in this room had been a major step. The Daveys, at first, had treated her like royalty, and drinking tea with a woman of noble birth had taken something of an adjustment. The first time she’d leaped onto the bench, Mrs. Davey had nearly had conniptions.

“Here's your tea, Miss Braithwaite.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Davey.”

“That mark on your chin has faded some, but it’s still a nice plum color.”

Sipping tea, Lilly was soon chatting with the ladies and realized that if one day this was the place she was forced to flee to, she would be quite happy about that. Because one thing Lilly knew with absolute conviction was that she would not wed Lord Danderfield. To ensure her brother did not force her, and that she remained single until she reached her twenty-sixth year, she may have to hide, and this would be the perfect place.





CHAPTER SEVEN


“Must you come inside, Dev? You can see it is not a house of ill repute or some seedy establishment that I will never return from,” Essie said, exasperated as Dev followed her up the stairs to the little brick house. “Miss Braithwaite was not happy that I knew of its existence, so I can only imagine how she is going to feel now you know.”

She had been singing this particular tune the entire journey across town, and he had told her in no uncertain terms that he was not leaving until he had seen inside. Of course his main reason was to see Lilliana again, but he wasn't telling his sister that.

“I see a brick fa?ade, Essex, behind which anything could be housed,” Dev said in a reasonable tone that made her teeth snap together.

“She may not have even arrived yet. Then what will you do?”