I have no idea.If it had been Clarkson that came home early, Lyman could have asked him to wait in his room a moment to avoid embarrassing Della as she left. But Wood would be sure to poke his nose in and run straight to Mrs. Hirsch to complain about the indecency of Lyman having a woman in his rooms. He would get Lyman turned out of the house, not to mention the consequences for Della if anyone learned who she was.
“I’ll think of something,” he promised. “Let’s finish getting dressed.” It was the only thing they could do for the moment.
From somewhere outside his rooms came the sound of Wood dragging the table across the floorboards.
Lyman tugged his waistcoat and day coat on quickly, then redid his cravat. In the same period of time, Della started the laborious process of relacing her corset extremely loosely and tugging it back over her shift, so that all that remained was to pull the laces tight again. Unable to progress any further without Lyman’s help, she motioned to her back and turned away to let him finish the job.
He shouldn’t have been able to appreciate the intimacy of the situation. Not when they were in danger of being exposed any minute. But the heat of Della’s skin teased his fingertips through the thin shift; reminding him that he hadn’t quite had his fill. Lyman leaned in close to her ear to whisper, “Tell me if it’s too tight,” as a chestnut curl brushed his cheek.
He could have taken her again right there, if not for their unwelcome intruder.
Della nodded, which he took to mean that he hadn’t botched the laces too badly. He had no idea how women got in and out of all these contrivances; it seemed to involve some form of sorcery.
Her gown was next, with its multitude of buttons, and then her gloves. Finally they were both nearly as presentable as they had been several hours ago, except for Della’s hair, which he judged beyond his power to repair.
There’s only so much I can do.
Once they were both ready, they stared at each other expectantly. Lyman had hoped something would have come to him by now.
With an apologetic look, Della returned to the desk and picked up her pencil.
“How can you write at a time like this?” he hissed, following her.
“He has to leave eventually, doesn’t he? And I still have work to do. I may as well accomplish something while we wait.”
She didn’t even look worried, though she had far more to lose than Lyman did.
“What if he stays for the rest of the evening? You can’t intend to wait until he’s sleeping.”
“I could.” Della bit her lip. “I’m sorry to impose on your hospitality, but I don’t see what choice I have.”
She must have meant it when she said her parents wouldn’t notice her absence, but Lyman didn’t think Annabelle would be quite so understanding.
“I could distract him somehow while you slip out.” It sounded too risky even to his own ears. How could he keep Wood trapped in his room? He might go downstairs and ask Mr. Hirsch to summon his apprentice to complete some task, but then he would have to explainwhy. He didn’t want to incur his landlord’s suspicion. “Oh! I could find an errand boy to come back here and call him away for some emergency. By the time he realizes it’s a hoax, you’ll be long gone.”
“I’m impressed to see you have a knack for scheming, my lord,” Della whispered with a smile. “I wouldn’t have thought it. But won’t he suspect you?”
Probably.Lyman didn’t have a history of playing pranks, but there was no one else around to take the blame, and he’d already made Wood suspicious. “I’ll handle it.”
Della bit her bottom lip. “Are you sure it’s quite safe to leave me alone here when you go out to find a messenger? There’s no chance the other lodger or your landlady would try to come into your rooms while you’re gone, is there? I’m not dressed for a climb out the window.”
“They shouldn’t.” Lyman frowned. Now he was doubting himself. There was no logical reason Mrs. Hirsch should pry into hisrooms, but shedidhave the keys. And while it would be a gross intrusion on his privacy for Mr. Wood to attempt such a thing, Lyman couldn’t rule it out completely. If the man suspected him of doing something improper, might he not poke around in search of proof the minute Lyman left? “Never mind,” he finally said. “Let’s wait a while and see if he goes out on his own before we run the risk.”
Della nodded. “Anyway, it will be harder for anyone to see our faces if it’s dark out when we leave.”
She went directly back to her work, while Lyman found it impossible to focus now. He listened to every creak of the floorboards, trying to pinpoint Mr. Wood’s location from moment to moment. Every so often, Della would set down her pencil to ask Lyman’s opinion on a subject or to reread a passage she’d written. It was a novel experience to collaborate this way. He might have enjoyed it if he weren’t so preoccupied.
When at last they heard footsteps on the stairs, they were coming up, not down.
“That will be Mr. Clarkson, whom you met the other night at the theater. I can ask him to help us. I won’t mention your name, of course.”
“I trust you,” said Della easily. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who’d wept this morning over her club’s reputation. Lyman couldn’t for the life of him understand why a business should mean more to her than her own well-being, particularly when her family didn’t seem to need the money.
Her friends had something to do with it, no doubt. Della was too loyal for her own good.
Stop thinking of that.Lyman didn’t want to start regretting what they’d shared so quickly, and dwelling on her club was the surest way to do it. Besides, they had more immediate problems to worry about.
“Wait here,” he whispered. He crept into the hall with a light step, meeting his friend in the entryway where he was still hanging his hat.
