From all accounts, she was a great beauty who mostly kept to herself. Some speculated she was St. Ambrose’s mistress, but since she was never a nuisance to her neighbors, everyone tended to their own affairs. Despite Sebastian’s attempts to learn her name, her identity remained a mystery. This was the reason he was standing on her stoop, ready to go to the source for an answer.
Late afternoon sun reflected off a brass knocker engraved with the initial S. It was warm to the touch when he grasped it to rap twice. He stood with his hands linked behind his back, waiting. There were sounds of movement from within, but several moments passed before the heavy oak door creaked open. A bespectacled woman with graying hair pulled back into a tight knot blinked at him through the crack.
“Yes, sir?” Her voice quivered.
He offered a disarming smile to ease her worries and pulled a calling card from his case. “Good afternoon. I am Lord Thorne and I am here at the behest of Lady Helena Prestwick. May I speak with the lady of the house?”
The woman stared at him with parted lips. “The lady of the house, milord?”
“Your mistress, Miss Lavinia…” Helena had never supplied him with a last name. “Uh, just Lavinia, I believe. It is important I speak with her.”
Grooves in the woman’s forehead deepened, and the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor caught his attention before a soft voice reached them. “Who is it, Edith? Delivery men are to come to the back.”
A woman with a face very similar to Helena’s came up behind Edith. She shared Helena’s eye color too, but there was a jaded light to hers Helena didn’t have. “I will see to the gentleman while you return to preparing our tea.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The taller woman patted Edith on the back, then filled the doorway to block his view. “What is it you want, sir?”
“Are you Lavinia, the young woman formerly under Madam Montgomery’s employ?”
Her glare would have struck him dead if she had that power. “I am no longer in the business of entertaining,” she hissed. “You should leave at once.”
Sebastian balked. “Egads! You have misjudged the situation, miss.” How many other men had arrived at her door demanding special treatment? And she thought he was one of them. He felt slightly queasy. “I am here on Lady Prestwick’s behalf. Not to be entertained.”
“I don’t know Lady Prestwick, so I’ll send you on your way.”
As the door was being closed in his face, he called out. “Helena! Your sister, Helena, is looking for you.”
He was guessing at their relationship, but the strong resemblance made it clear they were family. It wasn’t unusual to have illegitimate half siblings, nor was he concerned about what Helena’s father had gotten up to.
The door froze an inch before it closed. Slowly, it eased open and frigid eyes narrowed on him. “How do you know about Helena?” she asked in a fierce whisper. “My sister died nine years ago.”
He lowered his voice to match hers even though the street was deserted. “The devil she did. She is here in London, and she has been looking for you, risking her life in Whitechapel until her search led to Madam Montgomery’s.”
The woman’s breath hitched and the moment it dawned on her that he was telling the truth showed in the softening of her face. She was a beauty, just as rumors suggested, but she lacked Helena’s warmth and hopeful air. He supposed he couldn’t blame her, though. Helena’s sister couldn’t have lived an easy life.
“Please, I just need a moment of your time.”
“Helena is alive,” she said more to herself than him and stepped back to allow the door to open. “Please, come in, Mr…?”
He held out the calling card Edith hadn’t taken. “Thorne.”
“I am Lavinia Kendrick.” She read the black script then glanced at him again. “We may speak in the parlor, my lord. Did you say my sister hired you to find me?”
“I volunteered my assistance. We are close friends.”
She arched an eyebrow and closed the door behind him. “I see.”