Page 29 of No Ordinary Lady

“You’re the one who wants my stories,” Marian countered, shrugging, but she was enjoying herself, haggling over nothing of any real value. “Triple. Each month I stay. Paid in advance.”

“Highway robbery,” the old woman cried. “Double and a story every day.”

Marian raised a brow. “Bedtime stories?”

“Any time I like stories, young lady,” the old woman countered, wagging her finger. “And I’ll provide you with a new wardrobe, too.”

New clothes could be sold later. Marian was no grand lady to need very much, anyway. But she knew how to spin a yarn out of nothing. It had been a tool she’d used many times to make new friends whom she’d later robbed.

Marian pretended to think about it, but it was easy to conclude she would be wise to stay here for the moment. There was clearly room, and it was unlikely she’d have to spend any time with Danny if she was the old lady’s companion and he was off courting that other woman.

After a while, Crossman would stop looking for her, if he even was, and then she could go her way without constantly looking over her shoulder. Crossman would never dream she’d take employment in the home of their last victim. “Agreed.”

The old lady beamed.

“What shall I call you?”

“Yes, I suppose introductions are overdue. Mrs. Cora Nolan. And you are Marian…?”

“Trill, of nowhere in particular.”

“Are you a vagabond?”

“I like to see fresh places,” Marian assured her.

“Because you’re always running from the law?” Mrs. Nolan asked with one brow high.

“Nothing so dire. I’ve hurt no one,” she promised. Not that her former associates, as she now must think of them, were as careful with the people they robbed.

“You take what does not belong to you, my dear,” Mrs. Nolan reminded her. “That can hurt the people you’ve never met yet, too.”

Marian glanced down, filled with chagrin because the old lady was correct. Crossman had taught her not to dwell on the past, things she could not change, and there was no way she could ever repay the people she stole from now other than to never steal again.

A silence fell over them until a young man appeared at the door carrying a tea tray. “Tea and biscuits for you, Granny,” he said, and then looked around and spotted Marian.

Marian had seen this fellow at the inn, and in Danny’s chambers tonight, and wondered if he’d recognize her.

His eyes widened, and he glanced over at Granny with alarm clear in his expression. He wet his lips. “Forgive me, Mrs. Nolan. I was not aware you had company.”

“Now you are,” Mrs. Nolan said, smiling at him. “Have you met my new friend?”

“Not formally.” The fellow gulped. “Might I speak with you in private, Mrs. Nolan?”

“You may whisper in my ear,” she said, and then cocked her head to one side.

The young man gave Marian a severe frown and then leaned down to whisper in the old woman’s ear. His confidences went on for quite some time, but the old woman’s features never changed to anger. She merely nodded.

When the fellow eventually stepped back, he appeared rather smug.

“You can go,” Mrs. Nolan announced.

Marian got to her feet.

“No, not you, Miss Trill. Sit down, my dear,” the woman turned to the servant. “Sunday, you are dismissed, but have your mother attend me.”

“Surely I should⁠—”

“No. No. It’s all right,” Mrs. Nolan assured him. “My new friend will stay with us for a long while as my honored guest.”