Wright glared down at him, and it took everything Liam had not to take a step backward. His mind raced. What could he have done? Try as he might, he couldn’t think of anything. He swallowed hard as he met the man’s glare, far too aware that everyone was still watching them.
“The hallway,please,” Mr. Darby said, this time succeeding in coming between them.
Wright held his stance a moment longer before whipping around and moving out of the parlor.
Liam glanced at Darby, hoping for some kind of explanation, but was met with an unusually hostile look from the man he normally traded jokes with before leaving each morning. He raised his eyebrows to emphasize the silent question, but Darby’s frown only deepened.
Reluctantly, Liam followed Darby into the hallway, vaguely wondering if he’d find himself starting tomorrow in a jail cell, paying for some unknown crime.
“You must forgive me,” he said. “But I don’t understand—” His words vanished as he emerged fully into the hall to find two more people waiting outside the door.
Miss Darby and Miss Wright.
Miss Wright, who was wearing a skirt patterned with interlocking squares and who had a pillowcase crease across her left cheek.
Miss Wright. MissWright. A horrible realization stirred in Liam’s mind as his eyes went from her to the irate marshal.
This wasn’t good.
This was very,verybad.
Chapter Six
TILLY HADN’T MEANTto fall asleep.
She’d gone to pay a visit to Mr. Hannan to let him know how much she appreciated his introducing her to his sister. It was forward and she knew Miss Darby would never approve, but Tilly felt daring. Two days had gone by, and she’d gotten no further with convincing Mr. Hannan that he ought to marry her.
It was time to do something a little out of the ordinary.
She had knocked on the door. There was no answer, but the door had opened slightly at her knock.
“Hello?” she called inside.
She pressed the door open a little farther and found the room empty.
She shouldn’t have gone inside. It was rude and possibly the most unseemly thing she’d ever done. She paused in the doorway, chewing her lip and glancing down the hallway. She’d come here to marry Mr. Hannan, and that would never happen if she didn’t spend time with him. He ought to be back soon. After all, it was nearing the time when the Darbys would serve supper in the dining room.
Summoning every ounce of her courage and ignoring her racing heart, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her. It was beginning to grow dark, so she lit the lamp she found on his desk. The chair was piled high with clothing that sheassumed he intended to have laundered, so she perched herself on the edge of his neatly made bed.
And she waited.
Minutes ticked by. She ought to have brought something to occupy herself. She picked up the book open on Mr. Hannan’s bedside table, but it was some dull tome about the French military. Stifling a yawn, she set the book back in its place and leaned back on the bed. The last thing she remembered was thinking that the quilt covering the bed smelled nice, like soap and something else she couldn’t place, but that it reminded her of standing near Mr. Hannan.
Tilly didn’t know how much time had passed when she awoke, but she shot up with a start. The lamp had gone dark, sending the entire room into nothing but shades of black and gray. There were muffled voices coming from the front of the boardinghouse, so it couldn’t be too late.
