Page 5 of Not Quite a Lady
Why she should turn to this one man, Lily did not know, except that he was so big she felt instinctively that she would be safe with him.
When he stood, and she saw his decent, unfashionable suit moulding broad shoulders, his gaze steady on her, his shock of dark hair which was so badly in need of trimming he had tied it back, she could have wept with relief at the contrast with Adrian.
‘Please, sir, please hide me. Ad…he is following me.’
His gaze flickered to the neck of her gown and his lips tightened. ‘He hurt you.’ It was a statement and he held out his hand. ‘Here. To me.’
Lily let herself be pulled down on the seat next to him, sheltered by the broad cheek of the settle.
The man stayed on his feet, his eyes sweeping the crowded coffee house and the fascinated customers. ‘No one has come in here these five minutes past,’ he said, his voice carrying across the room with no apparent effort. ‘This lady is not here.’
People turned away, conversation picked up, the scene began to animate again and Lily let out a little sobbing breath. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Get down.’ His hand on her shoulder pressed her inexorably towards the floor as the door flung open again.
Lily slid without grace between settle and table and found herself curled up tight against her rescuer’s leg. There was barely room. She wrapped her arms around his calf and pressed her cheek to his knee. From her hiding place she could see Adrian’s feet, his striped silk stockings, the hem of his cloak, nothing else.
The room had fallen silent again, so quiet that the clatter of crockery and the raised voices from the kitchen could be heard clearly.
‘A lady came in here not a moment since. Where did she go?’ Lord Randall’s voice was languid, arrogant, and, under it, Lily could detect seething anger.
She stirred, trapped, convinced that every finger in the room was pointing at the table she hid under. A big hand settled on her head and stroked as though it was reassuring a nervous cat.
‘No gentry mort’s come in here, sir.’ The waiter sounded bored, as if he thought Adrian was yet another half-cut young buck out on the town. ‘And we don’t let no other kind of woman in neither, should that be what you’re looking for, sir. Gentlemen only, this place. If you want the other, then there’s a place down the road I can…’
‘No, I am not looking for a harlot, damn your impudence. Come along, someone must have seen her.’ The tone was demanding and patronising.
Without being able to see a single face Lily could sense the antagonism of the patrons. Adrian could have chased Napoleon Bonaparte into Hatchett’s and they would have refused to hand him over to this lordling.
‘Reckon you must be mistaken, sir,’ a voice said, full of mock-civility. ‘Lady’s given you the slip by the look of it.’
The door slammed behind Adrian, but the mocking cackle of laughter would have reached his ears, Lily thought with satisfaction.
She tried to wriggle out but the gentling hand held her down. ‘Not yet, just in case.’
‘Unlicked cub,’ an elderly man at the next table observed. ‘You can let her up now, sir, he’s gone.’
Lily emerged and smiled shyly round at the interested faces. ‘Thank you.’
She received a few grins and nods, then the patrons went back to their own business. The entertainment was over.
The waiter came over, lifted the empty plates and whisked acloth over the table. ‘A cup of coffee, miss? Or chocolate?’
‘Chocolate please. Oh, I have no money.’ She began to tug a ring off her little finger. ‘If I leave this and send a footman in the morning, would that be all right?’
Long fingers closed over her hand. ‘Put it on my reckoning. And here, that’s for your acting.’ A coin changed hands.
Lily turned to her rescuer and pushed her hair back from her face. ‘Thank you, sir, I do not know what I would have done if you had not hidden me.’
His eyes were a dark grey, almost like slate under level black brows. They seemed to look right into her mind. Lily realised she had no clear idea of what he looked like, and dragged her gaze away to look at his face. Wide cheekbones, a strong nose and chin. A little on the thin side for his build perhaps. He looked like a man who had missed a few meals lately.
A face used to command men, she thought. And he wasbig, especially in contrast to Adrian’s languid elegance. It was not so much his height, although he must have topped six foot, estimating from her own five foot five, but he carried muscle like a man who used his body hard.
Some sort of craftsman? A sailor? Yet his voice was educated and he held himself with complete assurance.
‘Do you want me to send for someone?’ he asked.
Lily realised he had shifted so he was shielding her from most of the smoke-filled room. ‘No, but perhaps you can call me a hackney carriage shortly, thank you.’
