The Watchmaker's Daughter (Glass and Steele #1)(20)

I took the gown and she left me alone to change out of my dress and into hers. It fitted well, although was a little short. My ankles were visible. My mother would have made me change out of it if she'd been there, but she was long dead. Besides, beggars couldn't be choosers.

I was checking over my gown to see if any damage had been done to the fabric when Willie walked back in without knocking first. "Christ, it's just a dress. What's taking so long?"

"I'm finished."

Willie scanned me head to toe. "It's still an ugly dress, but it looks better on you than me."

"Er, thank you. I think."

"Leave your outfit in my sitting room and collect it later. I suppose I should be offering you refreshments seeing as you're a guest and all."

"Thank you! A cup of tea would be lovely." I was parched after my exertions, and now that I once more felt suitably attired, I was ready to face the household over a cup of tea.

I only hoped Mr. Glass didn't rest for long. I liked his company, and felt more at ease in his presence. His servants—or whatever they were—made my nerves jump.

Willie led the way back down to the drawing room then disappeared after ordering me to "Wait here." She managed to infuse the words with steel, so that I didn't dare move. She clearly didn't trust me.

And I didn't trust her. Or any of them.

But I would bide my time, for now, and continue investigating later. It wouldn't be wise to get caught outside the drawing room again.

I strolled around the room, which was as pretty as Willie's rooms, although done in blue and gold colors. It too had a stale smell to it, however, that had me wanting to open the windows. After a few minutes of idly inspecting the knick knacks up close, I couldn't stand it any longer. I unlatched one of the window sashes and opened it.

I breathed deeply and watched the glossy black coaches rumble past with distinguished looking gentlemen inside. Elegant ladies dressed in fine gowns walked with parasols in hand to protect themselves from the spring sunshine, and nannies pushed perambulators along the pavement. Nobody hurried. No shopkeepers shouted about how wonderful their wares were, and delivery carts didn't jostle one another for space. It was quite lovely here in Mayfair.

A coach pulled up out the front of number sixteen and Duke hopped down off the coachman's seat where he'd been sitting next to Cyclops. Cyclops spotted me and waved, but Duke, following his gaze, frowned.

"What'd you open the window for?" he called out.

"Fresh air," I called back.

"You call this air fresh?" He looked skyward and screwed up his nose. "You English are mad."

I heard the front door open before he'd even reached it. I leaned out the window to see who'd opened it for Duke, but couldn't quite see.

"Better?" Duke asked.

"Stop fussing," came Mr. Glass's response. "And keep quiet around Miss Steele."

I couldn't hear if Duke warned him that I was standing at the open window or not. The door closed and a moment later, they both strolled into the drawing room. Mr. Glass looked much refreshed. His eyes were bright and his skin had returned to its normal color, not pale or lit up by veins of purple light. He smiled at me. I smiled back, wondering if Duke was supposed to be quiet about the strange watch or something else.

"I see you've changed, Miss Steele," Mr. Glass said. "You must have met my cousin."

I felt the heat in my cheeks rise again at his reference to my attire, even though he didn't mention the reason behind the need to change. Yet I was glad, too, that he'd acknowledged my change of clothing without dwelling on the matter. Indeed, he'd managed to seamlessly change the subject. It was a smooth transition, and I wondered if it had been designed that way to alleviate my embarrassment over our earlier encounter.

"Willie is your cousin?" I asked.

"On my mother's side."

"She didn't tell me that. Indeed, she didn't tell me much at all. I thought she was a servant."

Mr. Glass looked pained. "Did she threaten you?"

"In a way. But then she gave me this dress so I suspect everything is fine between us now."

"Wouldn't wager the ranch on that, Miss Steele," Duke said. "She hates dresses. Way she'd see it, you're doing her a favor."

"Then perhaps we can be friends since friends do one another favors."

Duke burst out laughing. "She ain't never had a friend. All the girls are scared of her back home, and most of the men, too."

Mr. Glass nodded. "It's true. She terrifies even me when she flies into a temper. But don't worry, she's rarely home. It's unlikely you'll see much of her while you're staying with us."

"Speak of the devil," said Duke, as Willie walked in carrying a tray laden with teapot, cups and slices of cake. "And look at that! She's gone all womanly on us, too, and made tea. Must be the influence of having a real lady in the house."

"You're lucky I'm holding this tray, Duke, or I'd clock you for that." Willie set the tray down with a loud clunk that rattled the delicate china.

Duke chuckled. "I got a room to make up and lunch to prepare. Come and help me, Willie."

"Do it yourself. I ain't the maid."