Page 51 of The Searching Songbird

“The baron, you dunderhead! The one and only Miles Tennyson, the Baron Dunlop, has personally visited The Siren's Call, which he has never once stepped foot inside before, mind you, with the sole purpose of calling on you.” She groaned, rubbing her hands down her face. “Some women have all the luck.”

Lucky...is it considered lucky to have a monster such as him take an interest in me?

Lily mustered a smile for the girl. “I have no intentions toward your baron, I promise. We met by chance outside the music hall after my audition. He was probably just coming by in regards to the upcoming show.” She forced an airy laugh. “Why, they probably have him deliver the news to anyone who didn't pass, in hopes of softening the blow.” She pulled a face. “I did make rather a mess of it toward the end.”

Millie rolled her eyes, but refrained from further comment as she stood and ran a hand over her wrinkled skirt. “Well, anyway, you should probably get yourself downstairs and let poor Mr. Grant know you're well before he wears a hole in the floorboards.”

“I'll do that.” Lily crossed the room, then paused with her hand on the doorknob. “And thank you, for taking care of me while I was... whatever I was.”

“Twas no problem at all, miss.” Millie gave her a cheeky grin. “Hardest part was gettin' ye up off the floor, and that wasn't really all that hard at all, seein' as yer the size of a wee kitten. Me grandmama gives me more trouble 'n that. Now, go, and see to yer man.”

My man.

Lily managed a weak smile before slipping out the door, where it promptly fell from her face. Draven was, apparently, many things, but the one thing he wasn't was hers. Not when he sat in the pocket of the most powerful villain in history.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Can I get you anything to go with that coffee? Bacon and eggs, hash...” The doe-eyed serving girl fluttered her lashes as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “Or perhaps you'd like something a little sweeter?” she added, dropping her voice to a husky whisper as she let her gaze roam over Draven's person.

“Just the coffee, thanks,” he grunted, fixing his gaze on the stairs. The girl flounced off with a humph, clearly put-out with his dismissal.

It'd been two days. Two long, torturous days of being confined to the tap room while Lily lay unconscious somewhere on the upper floor. It was enough to drive a saner man mad.

The bell on the door chimed, pulling his attention away from the staircase. His hackles rose as he saw who entered, and he scowled into his drink. Tall and well-built, with thick, brown hair, he supposed most women would find the man attractive, and he, himself, wouldn't normally have a problem with the gentleman, despite the fact that he walked with a swagger and flirted shamelessly with the waitstaff. His manner was otherwise pleasant, and he didn't put on airs, even though it was obvious from the cut and quality of his clothing that he was a man of some means.

No, his distaste for the man came on the heels of overhearing him introduce himself to the bartender yesterday afternoon. Miles Tennyson, the Baron Dunlop. His hand tightened around the ceramic mug he held, threatening to break it into pieces. The bastard fit Lily's description to a tee, and Draven would bet every last barrel of Granite Ale he owned that this was the man they'd been looking for.

The baron entered the bar, casting his gaze around the room. A bouquet of flowers hung casually at his side. Draven's eyes narrowed. A bouquet of lilies. Having apparently seen nothing of interest, the baron swaggered up to the bar, and posted a hip on one of the stools as he leaned forward, tossing the bouquet onto the counter. The bartender rushed over, a wide smile splitting his whiskered face.

“Yer Lordship! It's an honor to have ye back again so soon. What can I do ye for?”

The baron grinned, flashing his teeth. “You can give me some good news on our girl. Has she improved?”

A feral growl rumbled in Draven's chest, and his eyes shot daggers into the side of the baron's head. Our girl, is it? He slammed his mug down onto the table, making the serving girl jump. He doesn't even know her! And yet, he comes waltzing in here two days in a row, bandying about her name as if they're lovers. The bastard.

“I'm afraid she's still resting, poor gel. Doctor's come and gone, but they don't know what to do for her but wait it out. Most peculiar.” The bartender reached to fill a glass as he chattered, gossiping away like some elderly society matron at a town function. The baron shook his head in sympathy and accepted the offered drink.

“And you're sure I can't see her? Just a quick glimpse to assure myself of her well-being?”

“Mrs. Calloway was adamant that we weren't to allow no men upstairs with the girl, on account of it not being fitting and all. But rest assured, the missus has been keeping tabs on the gel, and she has Millie attending her, as well. She's in good hands, she is.”

“That is reassuring news, indeed.” The baron took a long drink from his glass before setting it down on the counter and straightening to his full height. “Well, then, could I trouble you to pass a message along with these flowers for me?”

“I'd be happy to, yer lordship. What would ye have me say?”

“Just let the lady know I came by, and that I would very much like to see her when she is feeling up to it. I've tucked my card in with the flowers. She should feel free to call on me at her earliest convenience.”

The bartender nodded, then froze as his eyes darted over the baron's shoulder. A grin lit up his face as he returned his attention back to the baron.

“Well, now, looks like ye'll get to give her the message yerself, after all.” He nodded toward the staircase. “There she is now.”

Draven whipped his gaze away from the two men as his hungry eyes sought her out. His heart tripped over itself as he caught sight of her, standing at the bottom of the stairs with her gaze fixed firmly on the baron. A flicker of unease passed over her face, and then it was gone, hidden under an impassive mask. Draven watched as she took a hesitant step in the man's direction then stopped, turning her face his way as if she could feel the intensity of his gaze upon her person. He raised his eyebrows, darting a pointed look at the baron. She frowned, ignoring him as she returned her attention to the baron, who was rushing forward with his ridiculous bouquet.

“Miss Delaney! You live!”

The odious man swept Lily a low bow and presented her with the flowers. She eyed them warily for a moment before accepting them. “Um, thank you... Baron Dunlop, was it?”

Draven seethed silently in his seat. So she did know who the bastard was. And yet, when they were leaving the music hall, she'd indicated that she hadn't. What the hell?