Free Passion Wears Pearls by Renee Bernard Page A

course, there’s the private parlor and receiving area there off the landing for your use if you have callers.”
    “I’m not expecting any callers, Mrs. Clay.”
    “You can eat dinner there if you’re shy of the common room below. But I don’t allow rough trade, so you’re more than welcome to come downstairs for your meals if you wish the company of others. You’ll be safe as a church mouse among my guests, or I’ll see to it and send them packing!” Mrs. Clay stepped back, beginning her retreat to allow Eleanor to settle in. “I’ll send up dinner for you tonight, as moving always has a bit of a draining effect, don’t you think?”
    “That would be so kind of you, Mrs. Clay.”
    “It’s nothing really.” Mrs. Clay started to put her hand on the door latch, but then turned back. “You’ll ring if you need anything? Just give that bellpull a healthy yank. Tally is always at the ready if you need more coal, and you mustn’t be shy about asking. I should tell you that Tally is as deaf as a stone and just as mute. He’s a sweet child of twelve, and despite the bit about his hearing, I swear he’s as smart as a whippet. I found him on the streets starving andfilthy when he was the tiniest little mite you’ve ever seen, and I confess, I took him home for my very own boy! I’ve no children, but Tally is … well, you’ll be kind when you meet him, I’m sure.”
    “Of course! He sounds very dear!” Eleanor stood, wanting to be polite and hoping that Mrs. Clay didn’t think she was yet another stray to land on her doorstep. “I should pay—”
    “Not until you’re sure it’ll suit! I couldn’t take a penny before you’d decided it would suit!” Mrs. Clay waved her hand in cheerful farewell, and before the obvious argument against the illogical suggestion that anyone could manage to be uncomfortable in such a room, she’d gone through the door and was bustling down the stairs.
    Eleanor leaned against the closed door, amazed. After the brusque treatment from her last landlady, Mrs. Clay was like a large, benevolent fairy godmother. No doubt, this Tally thanked his Maker nightly for his good fortune to land in such a woman’s care.
I swear I don’t remember my own mother being that solicitous. She’s such a dear! But there is no possibility that I can afford these luxuries! The coal alone costs more than I have in my reticule.
    Eleanor reached up to touch her cheeks, not completely surprised to find them wet with tears.
    I’m a practical woman and I do not cry!
    But nothing she’d expected had happened today. Once again, her world had changed in the blink of an eye, and apparently, this time she had changed with it.
    Her vow to never trust her care to another person ever again had evaporated the instant Josiah had struck Mr. Perring in the face. Her campaign for dignified independence had been sabotaged by Fate.
    So how is it that I’m relatively unscathed?
    Angels had intervened, even though she’d lost faith in their very existence when her parents had died. Or was it that the Devil had taken on the guise of a very handsome painter?
    Had Mr. Hastings deliberately put her in a position whereshe would be in his debt? It didn’t seem likely. His every gesture had been extremely considerate and his insane offer of employment was still ringing in her ears.
    Eleanor unpacked her things, drawing out the chore to give herself time to think and to try to make her dreamlike surroundings seem more real. The red dress was the last to go into the wardrobe, and she hung her coat over it to hide it just in case Mrs. Clay took a peek into her things and drew the wrong conclusions.
    She closed the wardrobe doors and went back to the fireplace, feeling more like her old self with her things in order and her jewelry box on the table by the bed. “Home, sweet home.”
    The urge to cry had finally passed and she dried her eyes.
    “Tomorrow, Eleanor Beckett,” she told herself as she moved her feet closer