Fateful by Claudia Gray Page B

there?”
    “Pawn this.” With that, Daisy opened the handkerchief to reveal an ornate gold pin.
    I gasped. “You didn’t—Daisy, you didn’t steal it, did you?”
    “I’m not a thief!”
    “I wouldn’t blame you if you were,” I said, and that seemed to pacify her.
    But still she insisted, “I didn’t steal it. It was given to me. I need the money now, and I think it’s worth a lot.”
    “I’ll do it,” I said. “I promise.”
    Probably the pawnbroker gave me a poor deal, but he gave me fifteen pounds, as much money as I’d ever seen in one place at one time. That money kept Daisy going, and little Matthew once he was born, until earlier this year when she married Arthur the butcher. Arthur’s a good man; in fact, he treats Matthew as though he were his own son.
    So Daisy’s all right now, I tell myself as I finish mending Lady Regina’s sleeve. And maybe she did steal the pin. I’d always thought so.
    But if it was kept in that box, Daisy would have needed the key to get inside it. Nobody gives a nursery maid a key like that. So she couldn’t have stolen it after all. Somebody had to give the pin to her, just as she said.
    Only two men would have been in a position to give it to her. One of them is the Viscount Lisle, but he was in London that entire winter, not to mention that he’s so fat he hardly has the energy to climb up the staircase, much less chase girls.
    The other—
    I lay the dress out neatly for Horne’s inspection, then slip into Layton’s room. If anyone asks why I’m in there, I’ll say I need to borrow some blacking. But Horne’s busy chasing after Beatrice, and Ned’s taken himself off on some errand, so I have a few moments alone.
    On Layton’s desk is a packet of his calling cards. I glance down to see that they read layton matthew lisle .
    I’d thought that was his full name, but I was never sure—my job keeps me busy with Irene’s doings, not his. Back in the days when I was a housemaid, I was always away from the family as much as possible. Horne even made us take the rickety old back stairs all the time so the Lisles wouldn’t have to see any evidence we existed, as though their house stayed clean by magic.
    But Daisy would have been near the family all the time, as a nursery maid. Layton must have stopped in often to see his little sister, when she was merely a cute infant to be cuddled a bit and then handed aside for someone else to care for. He was more dashing then; he drank less. Perhaps he was charming to her. Perhaps he made her promises.
    However it came to pass, now I know: Layton is the father. They didn’t throw her out just for having a baby; they threw her out for having his baby. For being the mother of their grandchild.
    I always knew how cruel the Lisle family had been to Daisy; now I see what hypocrites they are too. Anger boils inside me, clenching my fists and throbbing at my temples. To think I grew up admiring them as the noblest family for miles around. They’re wretched. They’re vile. I’ve spent the last four years of my life mopping floors and scrubbing laundry for people who are lower than dogs.
    The door to the bedroom opens, and I try to compose myself before Ned or Horne sees me. But when I turn, I see Layton himself.
    Mikhail is with him.

Chapter 10
     
    “WELL, WELL,” MIKHAIL SAYS. HE’S LOOKING AT ME, but he speaks to Layton. “May I congratulate you on how charmingly you’ve decorated your cabin?”
    Layton replies, “Nothing brightens up the boudoir like a pretty girl.”
    They roar with laughter like they think that’s the most hilarious joke in the world, and maybe Layton really does, since he’s the one who made it. But Mikhail keeps his gaze on me the whole time. I can see the wolf beneath the surface; there’s more beast to him than man.
    For one moment, I’m afraid he’s going to attack me where I stand—but no, he wouldn’t, not in front of Layton. Still, I have to grab the back of the nearest chair to