She hadn’t seen him since he’d left for the docks before dawn that morning. That was how their days always went, with a long absence from each other from dawn until midnight. She had so much to tell him.
“Miss Stanwick?”
Looking past Griffith, she saw the hansom cab and the driver sitting atop his high seat. She shouldn’t have been surprised. “Yes?”
“I’ve been paid to see you home.”
“Trewlove, I assume,” Griffith said, not sounding particularly pleased.
“Probably.” Absolutely. She’d wager the two thousand quid she had yet to earn.
“How did you know it was me?” she asked the driver as she strolled toward his conveyance.
“Gentleman told me to keep an eye out for the beauty coming from the alleyway.”
That should not have pleased her, should not have made her cheeks warm. She had a feeling when all was said and done, she was going to resent that one rule he would cling to.
Griffith handed her up into the conveyance before settling in beside her. “Guess he didn’t trust me to keep my word and not be late.”
She suspected it had more to do with Benedict seeing himself as responsible for her now. As the driver set the horse into a trot, she sighed at the luxury of not having to walk home.
“His sister owns the tavern, doesn’t she?” Griffith asked. “The Duchess of Thornley?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get word to him through her that you’re no longer in need of his assistance, that I’m fully capable of escorting you home.”
Her brother had so much pride. Having to sometimes rely on the kindness of strangers had been one of the hardest things for any of them to accept. She thought about telling him that no missive was necessary but decided to wait until they were in the residence in the event he began voicing objections to her plans. She had no desire for the driver to overhear an argument.
Once they were inside the small dwelling, with the lamp lit, she walked to the fireplace and studied the bucket filled with coal and could not help but think she’d surprised Benedict by appearing in his parlor that morning. If he’d been expecting her, he’d have not sent so much coal. Oddly, the abundance served to not only reaffirm his generous nature and that the decision she’d made was the right one, but also to shore up her resolve for wading into what might become an unpleasant discussion.
“I’m to bed,” her brother said, and she heard the weariness in his voice, but this could not wait. He’d be gone before dawn and matters needed to be settled.
She swung around. “Tonight was my last to work at the tavern.”
He was standing near the table, no doubt waiting for her to pick up the lamp so they could go through their nightly ritual. “Thank goodness. I never liked you working there, especially so late into the night. I’ll feel much better going about my day knowing you are simply locked in safely at the residence.”
“Actually, Griff, this morning Mr. Trewlove offered me a position as a tutor. I’ve accepted it. Tomorrow—or I suppose really later today—I’ll be moving into the residence where I’ll be teaching.”
“Teaching? You’re not a teacher.”
Neither was she a seamstress, a grocer’s clerk, or a very accomplished tavern maid.
“I believe I’m well equipped to handle the subject matter. Mr. Trewlove is assisting some ladies in bettering their lives, and part of that assistance involves learning refinement. He’s paying me a hundred pounds per annum, board, and lodgings. I could hardly refuse such a generous offer.”
His brow furrowed so deeply she feared he might hurt himself. “That is an exorbitant proposal. Why would he make it? What does he want of you?”
“I explained. To teach refinement, finesse, and etiquette.”
He shook his head. “No, he seeks to take advantage of you, to get you into his bed. I forbid this.”
She could not have drawn her head back more if he’d slapped her. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’re not to do it.”
“I have already agreed to it.”
“Send him a missive letting him know you have unagreed to it.”
