Love With An Improper Stranger by Barbara Devlin

Author:Barbara Devlin
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2015-11-15T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A multitude of tiny black bugs danced in and out of the mattress and linens of the single bed in the dank room, the dilapidated shutters hung askew and rattled against the window, and the fetid stench from an unclean makeshift chamber pot gagged her. Even in the dire financial straits that shadowed her father’s demise, Lenore secured cleaner rooms. Huddled with her sister on a rickety and worn sofa, Lenore shivered and wrapped an arm about Lucilla’s shoulders.

“Uncle Samuel, why did we not make the short drive to our home on Coleman Street?” Lenore twined her fingers in Lucy’s and tried to reassure her. “As you did not wish to take accommodations at Elliott House, which I do not quite understand, why did you not permit me to summon our staff and open our residence?”

“Do not question my actions.” Her relation’s stare cast daggers at her, and she swallowed hard at his harsh rebuke. “Were you not taught better? Have you no manners?”

“My apologies, Uncle.” Lenore cringed, as a mouse skittered along the baseboard, and she rued the fact that she had not protested louder and insisted they stay with Her Grace, until Blake returned. “But surely we could have taken lodgings in a more reputable establishment? Marylebone is unsuitable for ladies of character, and Papa, God rest him, would have a fit if he knew we were here.”

Just then, her stomach grumbled, as they departed Grosvenor Square prior to dinner. But the chunk of molded cheese and the partial loaf of bread littered with a colony of healthy weevils, which rested on a shoddy table, did much to tamp her hunger.

“My dear, Horace is the reason we have journeyed to this place.” Uncle Samuel doffed his coat, and she noted the threadbare material of the dirty garment. “It pains me to inform you of the exigent circumstances, but you must know the truth. Your father left you nothing more than an estimable name and a mountain of debt, and I am ashamed to call him my brother.”

“What?” In seconds, Lenore recalled the account books she maintained with loving care, as Papa was frugal, and never had he purchased anything on payments. Rather, he settled accounts up front. “Uncle Samuel, there must be some mistake, as that makes no sense. In good faith I balanced the household ledgers, and never did we owe arrears.”

“Silence.” With a nasty scowl, Uncle Samuel slapped Lenore across the face, and she toppled to the floor. “You will cease your complaints, or I will give you something about which to complain.”

“Uncle, why did you strike Lenore?” Lucy knelt at Lenore’s side, and her fear was infectious. “Pray, sir. What have we done? Why would you hurt my sister?”

“It is all right, Lucy.” Cupping her stinging flesh, Lenore studied her heretofore-distant relation and squeezed Lucilla’s fingers. “I am not injured.”

“But you are bleeding.” A tear-filled gaze signaled Lucy’s distress—and she never cried. “You have no cause, sir.”

“I have plenty of cause.” For a moment, he paced, and Lenore availed herself of the opportunity to inventory his person.

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