1705. Luck had never been on Eleanora Finley's side. After her father died in a tragic fire, she was left at the mercy of her domineering and abusive mother, being deprived of all love and affection.
Truly, who would have thought that the simple red...
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1715, The City of Lynchens, Devereaux
"Are you waiting for his reply?" Madame Lovett said nonchalantly as she kneaded the bread dough in a bowl.
Eleanora, who had been absent-mindedly watching the biscuits cooling down abruptly looked up, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Whose reply?" she questioned, feigning ignorance.
"You know who I'm talking about," Madame Lovett chided gently. "That patron of yours."
"Oh, him," Eleanora mumbled, her cheeks burning brightly. "Our correspondence is strictly business, mother. He wants to commission a painting, and we are still discussing the details."
"Is that so?" Madame Lovett chuckled. "Then you seem very restless waiting for a letter that is of business purpose. If it were me, I would've hoped that the letter had gotten lost."
"I cannot help it, mother. He has promised me such large sums for each of my paintings. If I can earn enough, then you and Father won't have to continue working anymore. We can hire workers to run this teahouse," Eleanora said earnestly. "And besides, that patron of mine has spectacular handwriting. It is a joy to read his letters."
Madame Lovett did not reply, and instead, she wordlessly transferred the dough into the baking tin. "Well, don't you sometimes wonder who he is?" she eventually said.
"I do," Eleanora confessed. "The thing is, I can hardly picture what he would look like. Is he an old man, or is he a young man who likes to squander money on pretty things?"
"Perhaps you should find out for yourself, dear," Madame Lovett suggested. "After all, you might be pleasantly surprised once you do."
Eleanora gave her a look, her gaze suspicious, but before she could say anything else, she heard a loud knock on the front door of the shop.
"I'll get it," she mumbled under her breath as she left the kitchen and headed to the front of the shop. It was still in the early hours of the morning, and the teahouse was not yet open to customers. She opened the door, revealing a familiar face that she had been looking forward to seeing for these past few days.
"Miss Tilly!" she greeted, smiling sweetly at the raven-haired maid who stood on the other side of the door. "How wonderful it is to see you again!"
Tilly returned her smile politely as she stepped inside, closing the door behind herself with a quiet click.
"Good morning, Miss Lovett," she said in greeting. "I have come here with a reply from my master." She reached into the satchel at her hip and pulled out a small envelope sealed with wax, handing it over to Eleanora.
"Thank you, Miss Tilly," Eleanora said, glancing down at the envelope with curious eyes.
"You are welcome, Miss Lovett. I will return for your reply in two days. Now, if you will excuse me," Tilly said, bowing her head gracefully and turning to leave.
