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“Rumor has it he works for a man known as King down on Vestry Lane.”
Relief flooded through her so quickly, she nearly missed the rest.
“They call him—” Clara cleared her throat. “They call him The Beast, my lady.”
The Beast? What a horrid name. She scowled. “But he is in London.”
Clara’s brows drew down. “Yes, miss, but—”
“Then I shall go to him.” She leapt to her feet, and realized at once that she really ought to learn her lessons. The room spun and she landed back on her behind before Clara could even reach her.
“Miss, you cannot go to him,” she said. Her tone was filled with disapproval and disdain.
So much so that Lillian blinked in surprise. “Why not? He is the only person I know will not turn me away.”
Clara tsked again. “Surely there is someone else. There must be someone you can turn to.”
“Like who?” She did not mean to be rude to this woman who’d done so much for her, but the question was in earnest. She’d spent three days running and hiding and trying to figure out a way to exist. A way to salvage her life. She’d come up with nothing. No one.
No one but Dane.
The Beast. The words echoed in her head now and her hands clenched in anger on his behalf. How dare they call him that. In her memory she saw the large, muscular lad who’d been given the name of son and treated as a slave. He never spoke. Well, rarely. But when he did…
Her heart clenched in her chest at the memory of those stolen moments. Of the understanding that had always seemed to exist between them. The shared compassion, and the kindness. She squeezed her eyes shut tight at the memory of the kindness in his eyes. No matter how much pain he was in, no matter how much misery he endured, his gaze when he looked upon her was only ever filled with more affection and love than she’d ever experienced from anyone else in her entire life.
And it was that affection she hoped to call upon now. His mercy. His kindness.
She bit her lip as tears pricked her eyes. Even his pity, if that was all he was capable of feeling toward her.
After all, ten years had passed since he’d left. Ten excruciatingly long years with no friends or allies. Ten years in which he very likely moved on. Perhaps he’d even married.
The thought made her still, her insides churning with a sensation she could not name.
It was worse than the nausea that made it feel like she was moving through thick mud.
“But miss, really, you cannot seek out a man like that,” Clara protested as Lillian headed toward the attic’s entrance.
It wasn’t as though she had a wardrobe to pack or even any trinkets to gather. She’d left her home with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a few coins in her pockets.
A rueful smile tugged at her lips as she lowered herself down the ladder. The shop would be opening soon enough so it was best she leave now before she could be noticed.
“Vestry Lane, you said, yes?” She interrupted Clara’s lecture about dealings with devils.
Perhaps she had a point. She didn’t know who Dane was now or what he had become. But she managed a smile for Clara’s sake and told her politely, “Surely you’ve heard the proverb, Clara. Better the devil you know, yes?”
Clara didn’t reply, but her scowl was answer enough.
She clasped the older woman’s hands in hers and squeezed. “I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me.”
Clara ducked her head and muttered something about Christian charity.
Lillian managed one last blitheful smile for Clara’s sake before turning to head in the direction Clara had pointed. She was headed toward Vestry Lane.
As she walked, keeping to the shadows and ducking her head to keep from being recognized or noticed, she assured herself that this was the right thing to do.
If he was married, he might still take pity. And if he wasn’t?
She drew in a shaky breath and placed a hand over her belly which had not yet begun to swell. If he wasn’t she would tell him the truth of her situation and hoped he believed her.
If he wasn’t she would beg him to take her in. To make her his.
She swallowed down a fresh wave of fear. She had nothing to offer anyone, least of all a good man like Dane. She no longer had a dowry, and she no longer had a name to speak of.
But she was a woman, and her body?
She fought a wave of panic and swallowed down a sob of panic and desperation.
Her body was the only thing she had left to offer.
