Page 26 of The Demons of Wychwood

CHAPTER 16

ELOWEN

I carefully unlocked my front door and stepped into the short hall. I turned and pressed my finger to Kit’s lips to ensure he didn’t speak and scare my girls. Kit nodded in understanding. I removed my flat cap and slowly opened the door to the sitting room. Elowen was dozing in her rocking chair by the range; Bess swaddled in a pink blanket on her lap whimpering. They both looked exhausted.

“Hello luv,” I said quietly from the doorway, so as not to upset the baby. Elowen opened her eyes.

“Oh, Felix, you’re home,” she whispered.

“Her teeth giving her jip again?” I asked softly.

“Yeah. Poor lamb couldn’t settle. I rubbed a bit of whiskey on her gums and that’s eased things a little,” Elowen yawned.

“I’ve, um…bought a friend back to stay the night.” Kit stepped from the hall behind me and gave a curt bow, something that none of our other friends would’ve done, so he’d given away his status without even opening his mouth.

“This is my friend, Christopher. Kit, this is my sister Elowen, and the grumbler is little Bess.” I introduced. Elowen’s eyes grew wide as saucers in recognition. Of course, she bleedin’-well knew the heir of Penhelligan Hall. The fact I’d also introduced her as my sister and not as my wife hadn’t been missed. She gathered Bess and made to ease out of the chair.

“I’ll make up a cot,” she said stiffly.

“No, no, you stay there. He’s gonna kip in with me, you don’t need to make up another cot,” I explained. Elowen raised her brow, knowing exactly what I meant. I’d never brought a fellow back to our house, even though Elowen told me she wouldn’t mind if I ever did want to bring home a special someone.

“Good to meet you, Mrs. Lazarus,” Kit said, stepping closer and offering his hand. Elowen took his fingertips and gave an unsure shake.

“Good to meet you too, milord,” she said immediately letting him know that she was aware of his true identity.

“I’ll take Bessie back up to bed and leave you gentlemen to it!” I couldn’t hide my embarrassment and felt my cheeks burn. Elowen came over to me so I could give Bess a kiss goodnight, then she hoisted Bess over her shoulder and in a pointedly fierce whisper said,

“I’ll talk to you in the morning!” her eyes giving me a warning stare.

“Don’t you worry, all’s well!” I reassured as I caressed little Bessie’s rosy red cheeks and met Elowen’s eyes. She gave me a withering glare and I knew then she’d definitely recognized young Lord Penhelligan and was not happy to see him.

“Good night gentlemen,”

“Night love,” I said as I watched Elowen leave the room and heard her tread carefully up the creaky old staircase to her bedroom. I closed the sitting-room door, and with that one action, it felt as if I was cutting the whole wide world off from Kit and me.

I was nervous, and worried that during the omnibus journey he’d wondered what the bleedin’ hell he was doing palling about with a lowly postal clerk and getting up to all kinds of illegal acts. What would I do if he changed his mind and didn’t want to pick up where we left off? We’d both had a little brandy, but hardly enough to blame the drink for what we’d done—or what I wanted to do!

My bedroom was downstairs on the other side of the hall. This was an old one-bedroom cottage with two large downstairs rooms and a bedroom in the attic, so I’d made the front parlor into my bedroom. The privy was in the yard, which had a gate to the back alley. There were all sorts of goings-on in the alley at night so I never went to the outhouse after dark and made do with a guzunder. This was Stepney after all, and we were just a spit from Whitechapel!

I removed my coat and hung it on a hook on the back of the door. My hands were shaking a little and I wasn’t sure why. Was I scared or just desperate to touch Lord Penhelligan again? I took a couple of calming breaths and turned to Kit. In my shabby small home wearing such fine garments, he stood out like a gold sovereign in shit. He removed his greatcoat, and I automatically put my hand out to take it. He handed it to me with a nervy nod of thanks, and then shyly looked at his boots. The coat was a handsome heavy woollen coat and as I hooked it beside mine, my thread-bear effort looked like rags. I turned back to Kit and saw he was looking pensively around the sitting room.

“My goodness!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize—“

A flush of heat ran through me, but it wasn’t lust, it was mortification. Was he judging me? My hackles rose. Our sitting room was what you’d call an ‘everything’ room. There was a table and chairs, a dresser that we used as a pantry, a range, and a few shelves. Elowen cooked in here, we ate here, and little Bess played here on a rug where there was a toy box and some little wooden toys I’d made her. A rocking chair and a moth-eaten easy chair sat by the range, and that was where I would read to Elowen each evening. There was a shelf with a few books. The illustrated postcards I’d collected from my travels were displayed on the walls, as was a sketch of our Ma that a tuppenny artist from Newquay made one summer. I considered my home again as if through Kit’s eyes and defensively I said,

“What? You didn’t realize you were coming back to a working-class home! I know it ain’t much, but London’s crowded and pricy. We’re lucky to have this place to ourselves and not be bunking in with two other families!”

Kit turned to me and held a hand up in a calming gesture. “No, no Felix, you misunderstand. I feel humbled that you would offer me help and shelter when you have so little,” he said softly.

I turned away from him and stepped closer to the range, opened the door, picked up a poker, and gave the coals a fierce prod. It was hard to tell if the heat I felt was from my anger or the fire.

“No. You misunderstand, milord. I’ve got plenty, and I don’t need your pity,” I said in a ferocious whisper. I closed the door to the range and took a breath to calm my temper. I don’t know what came over me, but with a few deep breaths, I calmed, remembered my manners, and turned to look his Lordship straight in the eyes.

“Now, milord, if you’re stoppin’, would you like to join me in a mug of milk punch, or do you want to go to bed? If you don’t want to share, I can sleep in the chair, and you can have my bed.” I noticed there was still a tight tone to my voice and I didn’t like the sound of it. I turned away again. My innards were coiled like a jack-in-the-box. If Kit decided he’d outstayed his welcome I knew the disappointment would crush me. I’d worry too about where he would go. I didn’t want to let him out to wander around Stepney on a cold foggy night or go home to encounter the wrath of General Edward Napier.

Kit stepped up to my back and I tensed at his closeness. I was stupid to think that I could invite a young Duke back to mine and things would be as they were in the luxury of Wychwood. I wanted things to be the way they were in the secret passage, and in room ten. I’d never known such pleasure with a fellow before. Kit leaned down, inhaled, and kissed into my hair. I shuddered.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Felix. Forgive me.” His voice was a balm. Kit’s arms threaded around my waist, and I found I couldn’t be mad at him no more. Kit kissed down my nape and a groan left my throat before I could stop it. I could hear the smile in his voice as he said in my ear,