The Secret in East End [Agents of the Crown #1]

Chapter 3 - Picture of Lionel

That was as far as logic went however. Because for some odd reason, Elle found herself answering any question that was thrown at her. Her history was something she rarely told her friends, largely because if anyone in the East End ever found out about her gender, she'd be the first to be sent off. Even as a boy, many have teased 'Elliot' for being too pretty for his own good. With milky complexion, golden eyes and silky tresses, Elle fought hard to keep her guise for many years. Lacey worried that she'd slip up, but Elle was an expert at keeping it.

She was terrified that her cover would be blown once she returned, so why did she end up telling him who she was? She'd like to blame it on his captivating green eyes, the enchanting way in which his laughter involuntarily made her smile. Elle knew however, that the truth of it was that she was just weak against the disarming smile he had given her, and the comforting timbre of his voice.

And that was bad.

---

"You plan on going into East End direct?" Lionel's disbelief was clear in his voice, the blond haired establishment owner casting one last, wry look at the slight sized female abnormally dressed in a shirt and pants by Fabian's side, and collapsed backward into his seat. With one hand swirling a glass of port, his other hand propped his head up, as he returned his gaze to his friend. "And here I was planning on getting my errand boys. You sure as hell are determined to solve this one yourself, aren't you Fabes?"

"I've had enough of people assuming we're all dandies, Leo. Aren't you? To them we're nothing but good for nothing sons who feed off their parents wealth."

"Fabes, you built the Avondale estates back up from the brink of the poorhouse. Who would dare say that?"

Fabian rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "It's not common knowledge. Mother didn't want our father's bad handle on money and business to be known. She loved him too much, and I love her."

Respect clearly shone in his friend's face. Lionel tilted his glass, sharing a chuckle with his friend as they downed their last dredges of beverage in a swig. Elle made a face watching them. Trying out hard liquor was something those who lived in the East End could not avoid, but there was no love lost for it. Elle had never acquired the taste for it, and couldn't imagine why they drank the stuff for fun. But more then that, she found herself quite interested in the conversation. Fabian did not want people to think him a dandy? Noting his frustrated tone as he had spoken earlier, the brunette couldn't help but wonder how was he actually like, since he was breaking more and more of the norms she had assumed of English lords, from Lacey's stories of them.

"First order of business is to actually figure out where is Fenwick planning to receive that diamond. Any news from your end?" It surprised Elle to see the quick shift of the way Fabian operated. From the angry lord she had seen the night before when he had caught her, his demeanour had been easy-going and light hearted all morning, even during their carriage ride here as he had told her stories of his sisters, Pippa who was visiting her friend in the Highlands, and Charlotte, who resided with her mother in the country estate for the last periods of mourning. She was scheduled to return to society before the end of the Season, his mildly terrified face making Elle laugh. It was obvious Fabian was not fancying the idea of chaperoning his youngest sister.

The way he acted as he had his rapid-fire conversation with Lionel however, enraptured her. Something about the way in which he took the situation by its reins and moved forward was titillating for the girl, so much so that it took two calls of her name by Fabian to startle Elle, much to the other two's amusement. "Are you alright, Miss Elle?"

"Q-quite alright, Mister Chadwick." Elle covered up by averting her eyes, aware of how his eyes lingered easily on hers. Her chest tightened when the sofa squeaked, signalling Lionel walking over until he bent down in front of her, concerned eyes observing. "If you need anything, do ask. This may be a gaming hell, but I do have maids who can assist you wherever and whatever it is you need."

"Whatever it is she needs, I'll get it for her Leo. No need for you to fuss, since she's under my care."

It was the gruff tone in which Fabian spoke that surprised himself. Why did he feel so annoyed that Lionel was almost in touching distance with Elle? The establishment owner was a renown player who had once been rumoured to hold the wildest parties of the unsavory sort. While Lionel was more settled down now, with his fair share of mistresses, Fabian was quick to stride over and pull Elle up and behind him, scowling when Lionel shot him a knowing smirk. 

"She's your ward, now? A little too old for a guardian, don't you think." Lionel drawled, rocking on his heels.

Elle balked at being called a ward, the familiar ire rising in her as she spoke. "I am no one's ward, Mister Chadwick, Lord Fabian." An amused brow raised again when the blond picked up her mistake in usage of peerage titles. "And I am quite capable of providing for myself, if you would just let me go. I'm grateful for your not telling on the bobbies, and I will assist you in however way possible, but I really do wish to return home."

"Home? As in the East End? Surely that's no home for a pretty thing like you, Ellie."

Fabian bristled when Lionel used an endearment on her, and stepped in before she could respond. "She isn't a ward. Simply a companion, so long as we need her help." Turning to Elle, he addressed in a gruff tone. "You will stay with me until the time has come for us to venture to East End. It will take two days at most. Till then, give me the place to send a note for your Lacey, and I will assure you that she gets it."

Miffed, but left with little choice, Elle left Lacey's closest address, scrawling out a letter for Lionel's errand boy to take, and soon found herself back in the cramped insides of Fabian's carriage. The vehicle's swaying signalled that they had begun their journey back, but Elle pointedly averted her eyes  from Fabian's own green ones, unwilling to bend down after the whole debacle in Lionel's place.

Fabian watched the stubborn tilt of her head,  the proud manner in which she holds herself. There was no way Elle could be mistaken for someone of the East End ilk. So who was she? Frowning to himself, he decided that just questioning wasn't going to bring them anywhere nearer. "Elle?"

Silence.

Fabian frowned, peering at the girl. The space in his carriage was the size of a matchbox at best, so there was no way she hadn't heard him. "Elle? You aren't... angry that I insinuated you are my ward, are you? Because I can assure you  that you aren't." God forbid that you are, suddenly the thought popped in his head. Fabian doubted the thoughts he had regarding Elle was legal if she became his ward.

"No."

The single syllable answer simply did not give him much to work on, yet Fabian had always been a stubborn man. "Then it is because..."

"Just how long exactly do you expect me to stay with you? You cannot keep me prisoner in your own house."

"For as long as it takes to get this solved." he paused, knowing another lie would not get him anywhere. Elle was blunt and honest, and she expected the same in return. The duke ran a hand through his dark gold locks in frustration, growling before he spoke. "I can't tell you everything, but what I can tell you is that this person we're seeking for particularly likes to take the young, skinny ones to do the job description he was tasked to do. And you fit his bill, Elle."

"So do plenty of others in the East End! Do you plan on keeping them all holed up in your cosy mansion too? God knows you've got the space. Who else sleeps in the seven other bedrooms anyway?" she scoffed. Fabian scowled at her, shaking his head. "I do not take in everyone, but I need your help. In order to be assured of it, I need to make sure you don't die first. Which is why you'll be staying where I can see you."

"And I assume I cannot leave the house?"

Fabian gave her an amused smile, leaning back as he observed her frustrated face. Did any other lady possess such fire in their eyes as they glared at someone? Other then Evie, he did not know any of the other simpering maids within society to have the gall to question his actions. "Of course not. You just can't leave the house like that." he gestured at herself, and Elle looked down at her own self, confusion in her eyes when her golden gaze returned to Fabian. "Meaning?"

"Ah, we've arrived." Without providing an answer, he stepped down, and held up a hand to help Elle down the carriage. The girl's jaw dropped when she saw the sign on the shoplot in a deserted  part of town.

'Madame Moreau's Finest'