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

Chapter 15

"May I have this dance, Lady Charlotte?"

In the corner of his eye, he noticed his sister paling at Lionel's question. Being caught up with observing Elle's reaction however, Fabian barely noticed the scowl his sister wore, nor her reluctance as Lionel more or less pressured her into coming with him. Instead, he noted the shrinking of her irises, the minute movement of her shoulders curling inwards to themselves as the Greystokes drew to a stop in front of them.

"What are you doing here, Greystoke?" Fabian hissed under his breathe.

"My mother had to see."

"You told her?!" he glared at his new friend. Lucan did not back down, merely held his chin high. "Could I not? She had a right to see for herself if my suspicions were true, Rothesay."

Fabian had to bite off his reprimand to the blond headed Earl as his mother who had been perched on his shoulder drew closer. Next to him, Fabian could feel Elle shuffling closer to him. Looking down, his heart tugged at the uncertain frown in her brows, the way she was uncomfortably shifting under the sharp eyes of the countess. With a sharp nose and sunken cheekbones, the Countess of Greystoke did not look the most motherly of ladies. Dark eyebags hung around her eyes, with a strict chignon that beared no nonsense. Her platinum blonde hair and blue eyes spoke of a once upon a time beauty, long erased by grief and age.

"My lady, I-" 

"Luke, she hasn't changed." The countess cut Fabian off, barely even noticing how he had stepped in front of Elle. 

"Are you sure, Mama?" Lucan addressed, concern clear in his tone. Even he however, couldn't help the curious look he gave Elle. By then, the girl felt her skin crawling, heat gathering under the material of her dress as sweat beaded. Why was her heart beating so fast? It had nothing to do with just Lucan Stefford now, that was for sure. The uncomfortable way in which he looked at he had nothing on the heat Fabian stirred in her whenever he was near. What was it about Lucan, and now his mother, that did this to her though? Elle's mind raced, as fast as it was going hazy.

"May-May I help you, Lord and Lady Greystoke?" she finally stammered out. Her tone was uneven as her head began a pounding that was beginning to happen way too often, ever since Fabian's family had more or less taken her in.

"She had been thirteen. Twelve years had past, so she'd be about twenty five... Girl, what's your age?" The sudden sharp way in which the countess addressed her made Elle involuntarily startle.

"I-I'm not sure, my lady. I... do not know."

"How could you not know your age?" Suspicion gathered in the wizened old blue eyes. "Those eyes. She's always been the one to look like a copy of your father." Again, she addressed Lucan. Fabian was beginning to get highly irritated at how she spoke as if Elle wasn't around.

"I-I never knew how old I was, nor my birthday."

"Is there a reason-" Lucan started. His mother however, appeared to have a lot less patience then her own son. "Do you remember the fire, Ellie? What happened to your father, and to you? I left you with Papa, because you were asleep. I brought Lucan with me... I should never have done that."

Her words grew more earnest. Before Fabian could stop her, the countess had grabbed her hands, making Elle drop her dance card in shock as her hands were grasped in the veined, older palms. A chill seeped through her bone at the earnest look in the blue eyes. Why were they familiar? At the back of her mind, the same blue eyes glowed in her faint memory box. Had she seen them before? Her throat stuck when she faintly recalled the gentle brush of a finger on her forehead as she lay on a four poster bed in a grand bedroom. Was it hers? Why did the touch seem so familiar, yet so alien at the same time?