The Secret in East End [Agents of the Crown #1]

Chapter 4

Five days later

Elle stared out the window, her face a picture like a forlorn puppy as she watched the rolling clouds, fat raindrops and angry looking sky. She had spent fifteen years living on the streets, with leaking roofs and the occasional flooding of her sleeping mat in a particularly heavy downpour. The very first time it had rained, just the evening after Fabian had brought her back from Madame Moreau's, she had been thoroughly grateful at least that she could remain comfortable and warm as the rain poured outside. Guilt had nibbled at her at the idea that Lacey was possibly out in the cold alone, but she couldn't help but enjoy the warmth from the hearth, the genial conversation she shared with Fabian over a dinner of roasted partridge and vegetables. 

He had been curious on what she did. Elle usually was not very forward, but something about Fabian made her open up easily, and soon she found herself telling him regarding the way in which Lacey had taught her how to cut her hair, walk like a boy, and act tougher then she did. "Lacey burned the dress she found me in. It was in pastel purple, with frills apparently. Too eye-catching. She got me breeches and shirts the next day, and I've lived in them since." Elle had told him. She briefly caught his contemplative look, only for it to disappear quickly in the next second. Fabian, she was beginning to realize, was very good at making it seem like nothing too serious was going on.

Not wanting to be the only one telling of everything, she had asked too, pleasantly surprised when he did tell her of his family. He had been very obviously morose when he spoke of his father, the previous Duke of Avondale, but lightened up as the conversation turned to his two sisters (annoying pests according to him, but spoken in such a fond tone that Elle found it difficult to believe he didn't love them) who were currently under his care. The way Fabian's brow scrunched up when he spoke of Pippa's latest suitor had Elle laughing, overprotective as he was. It was obvious that he didn't fancy Charlotte's own Season in the next few months, but did not question.

His mother was a quiet lady who didn't mingle in the season much. According to Fabian, Charlotte and Pippa would be accompanied by an old aunt of his, Aunt Florence. "She doesn't... fit in Society, technically." he had given as way of explanation, when Elle asked. The brunette cocked her head, confusion clear in her golden eyes.

"Mama was a tavern girl that Father met on one of his... er, travels. He had fallen in love with her, and defied tradition to marry her, making her one of the most unconventional Duchesses in the history of the ton. Not many welcomed her, and Mama's gentle nature did not bode well if she were to enter society. So Father fixed her up in our country estate in Kensington, where she stays most of the time."

In a way, Elle understood, but over the course of the next few days as the rain did not let up, she found herself feeling more and more trapped. The watery puddles and horrendous weather did not allow for anything outdoors, and soon she found herself often wandering the hallways of the surprisingly large town house. Portraits were looked at in fascination, visiting the library to look at neatly arranged, leather bound books. She had picked a few to read, but other then recognizing a few words here and there, reading was a lofty thing to call her browsing through the pages.

But what was unnerving to Elle the most was how she found herself mightily curious as she brushed fingers upon soft carpet, well wrought oaken furniture, porcelain antiques on display. Even the few times Fabian had asked her to share a meal with him in his study between his studying of the ledgers and running of the Avalon estates and investments, her curiosity mounted.

Something about the dark oaken woods were familiar, and she found herself all too at ease as she slipped into mingling with his servants, even managing to smile her way to a few freshly baked scones before tea time.