Free I Kissed a Rogue (Covent Garden Cubs) by Shana Galen Page B

not at home, but she would write him separately. Ginny was in the nursery with her nanny.
    “May I say good-bye to Ginny?” she asked.
    “I don’t think that’s wise,” Valencia said. “She will be in bed by now, and I don’t want her upset.”
    Lila knew for a fact Ginny was a stubborn child who did not go to bed easily and often not until after eight or nine. But she didn’t argue with her stepmother. She supposed she might never see her little sister again. And if she did, Ginny would probably not remember or know her.
    Her eyes stung as she left the room, following Hunt down the steps to the vestibule. She saw the carriage through the door Franklin held open. Two footmen were loading her valise inside.
    Lila didn’t see Lizzy. “Is my lady’s maid already inside?” she asked.
    Hunt gave her a pitying sort of look, which made her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Your father said you weren’t to bring any servants.”
    She could translate that without the valet’s help. Her father had most likely said if she would have servants, Brook could damn well provide them.
    “It’s better this way,” Hunt said, attempting to soften the blow. “The fewer people who know where you are the better. And these quarters aren’t large. You’d be cramped with a lady’s maid.”
    “I see. Well, I had best be off then.” She lifted her skirts and took the hand of the footman. Inside the coach, she fussed with her skirts until John Coachman called to the horses and they were underway.
    She only parted the curtains once to look back at her home.
    No one had waited to see her off.
    The journey to Brook’s quarters was faster than she had anticipated. Hunt had instructed her to keep the curtains closed, so she wasn’t sure where in London she had landed. It was dark by the time she was ushered out of the coach and up a flight of stairs into a dark, cold flat. For some reason, she had expected Brook to be waiting for her.
    But except for Hunt, she was quite alone.
    The valet lit a fire in the hearth of the common room and directed a footman to bring her valise to a room at the back, presumably her private chambers. Finally, he’d informed her there were victuals in the cupboard and fresh water in the pitchers, and she should take care to keep the shutters closed and make as little noise as possible.
    And then he’d left, and Lila’s heart had thundered when she’d realized he’d locked the door behind him. She was locked inside, a prisoner in this unfamiliar place.
    For a full moment, terror coursed through her as well as fears of being forgotten or abandoned, and then she squared her shoulders. “Lila, you are a grown woman. It’s time you acted like one.”
    Apparently, that included talking to herself. As no one was present to hear her, that seemed a trifle.
    “The first thing you should do is investigate,” she told herself in a matter-of-fact tone. She set about doing just that, finding bread and jam in a cupboard and water in the pitchers, as Hunt had promised.
    “That’s not much of a dinner,” she said with a frown, but at least she would not go hungry. “Too bad Hunt didn’t wait to collect me until after dinner at Lennox House.” Her father always ordered six- or seven-course meals. It was wasteful and extravagant, but Lila had grown used to it, and bread and water did not appeal.
    Besides a sturdy table, that was the kitchen, and Lila returned to the common room. The fire crackled and popped in the hearth now, warming the room considerably. In the dim light, she could see the room boasted a large green rug, a desk with a chair, and a couch. It was a small room, so this was quite enough to fill it, but Lila felt the lack of embellishments.
    “Not a single vase or even an ornamental table,” she said, walking the circumference. She could not argue that the room fit her impressions of Brook. “Basic and utilitarian,” she concluded. “And perfectly tedious.” She sighed.
    The desk held neat