A Place Called Home by Dilly Court

her, and if she could have spoken to her she might have persuaded her to take her home, wherever that was. She finished the chocolate and replaced the dainty cup on its matching saucer, but all the fine china in the world could not make up for the loss of the one person who truly loved her.
    She left the pantry and made her way slowly to the staircase with Peckham at her side. She was tempted to run away again, but she had given her word to Bedwin and he had been kind to her. She would honour her promise today, but there was always tomorrow. She reached the entrance hall in time to see James opening the front door and she paused at the foot of the stairs, hoping that Granny might have changed her mind and come to take her home. Peckham stood alert with his brown ears cocked. He uttered a growl deep in his throat as Linus Daubenay strode into the vestibule, tossing his hat and cane at James. ‘Where will I find my uncle?’
    â€˜I believe he’s in the study, sir.’
    Linus crossed the floor in long strides, coming to a halt beside Lucy.
    â€˜You should muzzle that cur,’ he said, glaring at the dog.
    Lucy knew better than to argue. She snatched Peckham up in her arms and started for the stairs, but Linus caught her by the sleeve. ‘You may think you’re clever, Miss Pocket, but you won’t steal my inheritance, of that you may be certain. One way or another I’ll make certain that you don’t get the chance. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
    She understood well enough, but she was not going to let him see that she was afraid. ‘I never asked to come here, mister,’ she said, returning his hard stare with a toss of her head. ‘I don’t want to stay and I don’t want your inheritance, whatever that might be.’
    He leaned over her, lowering his voice. ‘And I’ll make sure you don’t get a penny of it, little girl. I’m going to tell my uncle just what sort of family you come from. Your mother is a whore and so is your grandmother. I should know, because I’ve had them both.’
    â€˜That’s a wicked lie.’ Lucy’s voice broke on a sob. ‘You’re a bad man.’
    â€˜You don’t know how bad I can be, but you’re going to find out very soon.’ His laughter echoed off the crystal chandeliers as he strode off in the direction of Sir William’s study.
    James hurried after him. ‘Shall I announce you, sir?’
    The front entrance was momentarily unguarded and Lucy forgot her promise to Bedwin. She seized the moment to make her escape. She wrenched the heavy oak door open and with Peckham clutched in her arms, she ran.

Chapter Six
    LUCY BARGED HER way past startled pedestrians, and did not stop running until she reached Piccadilly Circus. By this time she was out of breath, and had a stitch in her side. She stopped and put the dog down, instructing him to sit and stay. He looked up at her with big brown eyes and nuzzled her hand as she bent over to ease the pain. The spasm passed and she took off her sash, looping it through Peckham’s collar, using it as a makeshift lead. She continued at a slower pace, heading along Haymarket in the direction of the Strand. It was a long walk to Rosemary Lane, but she was determined to find her grandmother, and when she did they would never be parted again. Sir William could keep his money and his big house. She trudged onward, feeling the sun hot on her back and blisters forming on her heels, but she had been used to walking everywhere long before Miss Wantage had instituted the daily promenade in the park.
    She was hot and she stopped to slake her thirst with water from the Buxton fountain in Parliament Square, cupping her hands and filling them so that Peckham could also drink. Feeling refreshed she went on her way, arriving late in the afternoon just as the stalls in Rosemary Lane were packing up for the day. She went from one end of the street to