Chapter 7. The Man from the Belmore Hotel
Rufus looked at his master’s calm face as if it were a stranger’s. He wouldn’t have known if the maid hadn’t opened her mouth.
“So, you brought a woman back from Highbrome last night?”
Rufus’s tone was nearly accusing. Christopher raised an eyebrow.
“She was from a convent.”
Rufus’s jaw dropped.
“You mean that’s true? As if we didn’t already have enough trouble—”
“Open the door.”
Christopher cut him off. Rufus handed over the key with a tense face.
When there was no answer to their knock, the two quickly stepped inside.
No one was there. Their eyes immediately turned to the safe and the desk. Rufus hurried to the safe and inspected it.
“Nothing’s missing. She ran away.”
Rufus shrugged, as if that explained everything. The silk dress they’d left out for her to wear was still neatly folded in its box.
While Rufus busied himself pulling open curtains and checking under the bed, Christopher regained his usual composure.
The woman had fled wearing only her torn clothes.
He let out a short laugh. Had she gone back to Highbrome? Was this some new trick to seduce men? He was well aware of the looks and gestures women used to draw attention. But last night, the face that had run out in front of the carriage had looked truly desperate.
Maybe she really had wanted to escape that place…
Christopher cut the thought short.
No, that was none of his concern. He’d seen too many men ruined after falling for a woman’s innocent face. He also knew well that poverty was no synonym for virtue. It was a world where people abandoned even their own children when pushed into a corner. Expecting a woman who’d grown up abandoned to live an honest life was naive.
Christopher sat down at his desk.
“Rufus, how’s the annex coming along? Will it be done before the exposition?”
Rufus finished his inspection, clapped the dust from his hands, and replied.
“Of course. The painting’s badly damaged, so restoration experts are all over it. It’ll cost a fortune. If you’re fine with that, we’ll proceed.”
He grimaced as he flipped through the budget.
“I don’t mind. What matters is that we’re the ones restoring it. That alone has meaning. The article’s ready, right?”
“Yes, just like you said — it’s about restoring the damaged painting and sponsoring the convent. Hopefully, that’ll calm the rumors about us killing that nun.”
Christopher didn’t reply. When Rufus, waiting for an answer, handed over the draft article, Christopher took it and said instead,
“Also, find that woman we brought from Highbrome. Send her off to work at some factory or another.”
Back at the Rutland residence, Lily locked her door behind her.
It wasn’t until Mrs. Rutland opened the door to hand her a letter that Lily realized two days had already passed. Mrs. Rutland’s tone was as curt as ever.
“Really, having letters sent to my house now?”
With a disapproving look, the woman shut the door and left. Lily let out a shaky breath. The letter, roughly handled, had smudged ink.
To my dear Elizabeth, from Sister Bolina.
Tears welled up at the sight of the familiar handwriting.
We’re trying to settle into this new place. How are you doing? You’re all I worry about.
Not long ago, Councilman Phil Gordon stopped by to comfort us. I still can’t get over the grief, but…
Lily sniffled and smiled faintly.
Oh, and Rosie got a good adoption offer. She said she didn’t want to go, but after getting some pretty dresses, she’s all excited now. You should come see her before she leaves.
With love, Bolina.
P.S. These are Purball’s pawprints. The naughty cat seems to be looking for you.
The gentle letter soothed Lily’s heart for a moment, but Mrs. Rutland’s attitude made it clear—this was only a temporary shelter.
“Did you hear about that maid who got thrown out of the hotel?”
From the hall came the sound of Mrs. Rutland chatting with her guests.
“That’s what happens when you hire people without a letter of recommendation. Don’t you think?”
“Anyway, madam, you’ll send that girl away before Christmas, won’t you? It’ll be awkward when Timothy comes home.”
They didn’t mean to be cruel. It was just how they comforted Mrs. Rutland for taking in an orphan with no reward.
“Timothy used to be close with that girl, didn’t he?”
Behind the door, Lily stared vacantly out the window, their voices fading into the background.
In the distance, the Belmore Hotel stood tall. In truth, you could see it from anywhere in Londinium. Lily squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again.
Their conversation stopped abruptly when a straw-haired orphan appeared in the doorway.
“How much can you earn working at a hotel?”
The women exchanged glances. One of the newer guests finally answered.
“I’m not sure, but I heard the pay’s in Florin gold coins.”
“And you really don’t need a letter of recommendation?”
Realizing Lily’s intent, they chimed in eagerly — Mrs. Rutland finally had a chance to get rid of her burden.
Lily touched the copper coins in her pocket.
If she worked at the hotel, she could solve everything — her empty purse, her lack of a home. So Lily walked straight toward the Belmore Hotel.
“You said you’re from Saint Margarita Convent?”
The woman who introduced herself as Summer, head of the hotel laundry staff, spoke bluntly. Her arms were crossed defensively, making Lily a bit nervous.
“What did you learn there?”
“I can do laundry and cook well. I can read, and I can do basic arithmetic.”
Fortunately, Summer took a liking to her right away. The actual hiring was up to the manager, but Summer could recommend candidates.
“All right, come on then. The manager will decide after a word or two. Follow me.”
Lily froze when she realized the manager was the same man who had tried to kill Purball in the greenhouse. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to recognize her.
“Where are you from?”
“I think I was born in Londinium. At least, that’s what I remember.”
“What do you mean, ‘you think’?”
The manager frowned, suspicious.
“I don’t know exactly where I was born.”
At her reply, he snapped his fingers. A man sitting near the fireplace looked over briefly.
The manager glanced around, then spoke sharply.
“So you’re an orphan — that’s what all that meant, isn’t it?”
He turned away as if it wasn’t worth another thought.
“Find someone else, Summer.”
At that, Lily blurted out desperately.
“I learned laundry, cleaning, and cooking at the convent! I’m just as good as any maid school graduate!”
Summer stepped in to support her.
“Bennet got fired so suddenly, we’re short-staffed. She looks capable.”
The manager twirled his mustache.
“How can we trust an orphan in a hotel? Lord Belmore said no more hiring without letters of reference.”
It was clear he would never hire Lily. He took too much pride in working for the city’s finest hotel.
“We can’t hire someone when we don’t even know her background.”
“I handled laundry for twenty people at the convent!”
Lily was desperate now. She couldn’t face the sisters again if she failed here. And she didn’t want to work at a tavern. Guests had started to glance over at her pleading voice.
“Just give me a week’s trial! You can decide after that!”
As her voice rose, the man by the fireplace got up and approached.
“Mind if I step in? I couldn’t help overhearing — you’re refusing to hire this young lady because she’s an orphan, is that it?”
It was Timothy — the very same Timothy Mrs. Rutland had said wouldn’t return until Christmas.
Lily blinked in surprise, unable to believe it. Timothy, here at the Belmore Hotel?
But it was him — the same Timothy Rutland who used to bring her books from the library.
He was taller now, his rolled-up sleeves showing strong veins, his once-boyish grin replaced by quiet confidence.
“If we’re being fair, isn’t Lord Belmore himself practically an orphan too? Lost his parents young, didn’t he?”
Even while speaking so boldly, Timothy’s tone remained calm. He even gave Lily a subtle wink, making her flush in confusion.
“These jobs require guarantees, sir,” the manager replied stiffly. “If she can’t prove she’s trustworthy, we can’t employ her.”
“I’ll vouch for her. Will that do?”
Timothy pulled out a card and handed it over. The manager’s eyes flickered as he read it.
“Londinium Tribune, reporter?”
“Sounds like an interesting headline in the making.”
The manager grunted, pocketing the card, glaring at him.
“And what kind of headline would that be, exactly?”
“Oh, something like—‘The Grand Hotel Opens Boldly, But Falls into Scandal over Staff Shortages and Poor Service. The Decline of Belmore.’ Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
The manager’s hand went to his mustache again, plucking at it nervously. Timothy added smoothly,
“And if the article’s main subject happens to be Lord Belmore himself, well… even better.”
The manager glared at the slyly threatening man and growled.
“She’ll work six months on probation. After that, we’ll hire permanent staff. Not that she’ll last that long.”
Despite the harsh tone, Timothy didn’t get angry. He just smiled and looked at Lily.
“You heard him, didn’t you? He’s talking to you. Good luck, Miss.”
He gave a small, polite nod.
“Wonderful!” cried Summer, grabbing Lily’s hands and shaking them enthusiastically. The shock snapped Lily out of her daze — but she’d missed her chance to greet Timothy properly.
How was he even in this city, when he’d gone off to university?
Questions about her long-lost friend crowded her mind, but she didn’t get the chance to ask. Summer was already dragging her away.
As Lily looked around, she spotted Timothy on the staircase to the third floor. Feeling her gaze, he turned around. She mouthed a silent “thank you” and waved.
He responded with a graceful bow, like a knight saluting his queen.
