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Daphne handed her the third gingerbread. “I am rarely wrong about people, Pen. What you did in the market—stopping to warn me when you could have just walked by without a second glance—especially for how desperately hungry and tired you obviously are—it is unusual.”
Pen shook her head. “No, it was the right thing to do. I would have felt terrible about it for days if I had just moved on past without a word.”
“And that kind of integrity is rare. Aside from that, you—you can turn heads, dove. Even with the dark circles under your eyes, I can see that. All you need is some sleep and some food and you would be perfect to join me.”
“Join you?”
“As one of my assistants. I just lost one to marriage, so I need the help. You have integrity, I already know that. You have beauty and will be able to show the trinkets off well. And you were canny enough to catch the chandler at what he was doing when I was oblivious to it. You don’t know how many times I have gone to that man—I shudder to think on all that I have lost to him in the years.”
Pen’s fingers curled into the gingerbread, making it crumble as tears threatened. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”
“The job entails not only the shows I do for the ladies and the preparations for them, but sourcing the goods as well.” Daphne leaned toward her. “I have only one question—are you ready to work hard?”
“I’ve known nothing but.”
Daphne smiled, beaming. “Then it is time luck caught you. Will you do it?”
Pen inhaled, cringing at her own words. “This…I cannot help but be suspicious.”
Daphne laughed. “Then you are wise. You can leave me at any time. Anytime you are uncomfortable.” She set her hand on Pen’s knee. “I will be direct. I want to use your beauty to help me sell my wares. Fully clothed, of course, and only to women. That is the most suspect thing I will ask you to do.”
Pen had to steady her breath. “Then, yes. Yes, I would like to join you, but I cannot be out in public—the family I just left—it’s dangerous for me.”
Daphne’s eyebrows lifted. “Dangerous? Why?”
“He—the son—he has threatened to send constables after me and send me to the gallows for stealing. But it is lies, I never…I never…” She drew a shaky breath, realizing her opportunity with Daphne was slipping away.
“Well, one, we are not heathens. We don’t send people to the gallows for stealing here in England—we transport them to Australia, yes, but not to the noose.” She grabbed Pen’s hand, squeezing it. “And two, if you had stolen something you wouldn’t be as hungry as you are at the moment, correct? I imagine this has more to do with the son wanting what he could not have?”
Pen nodded.
“Who are they—this family you lived with? You were their servant?”
“Of sorts—not really their servant—they took me in when I was ten, though I have worked hard doing everything they’ve asked of me throughout the years.”
“An unpaid servant, then.”
“Yes—I see that now more clearly than ever before. They are the Flagtonsrenting a townhouse on Brook Street.We came from Belize and have only been in town for a few months.”
Daphne laughed, waving her hand. “Dove, I’ve never heard of them. And I have heard of everyone important. Believe me, the circles I sell in don’t know them either. There are the wealthy, and then there are the people of theton.”
Daphne sipped the last of her tea and then stood, picking up her package, and she looked down at Pen. “Come. We shall get a proper bed for you next. And then another meal, or two, before the night’s end.”
Pen swallowed the last of her gingerbread and drank the remaining tea in her cup. Afraid to believe she was awake and what was in front of her.
Was it even possible her luck was changing?
{ Chapter 21 }
He lost her.
He bloody well lost her.
She was at the Flagtons’ townhouse, and then she was gone.
Strider hadn’t been back in London for more than fifteen minutes when Jasper had broken the news to him. Egbert was supposed to be watching the house—watching over Pen—and then he realized something was off—he hadn’t seen her leave the townhouse in days.
One day she was there, and the next, gone.
