Brian made a gesture at the counter, tapping it to show what he was pointing at. The manager leaned over to look, and then pursed his lips. Then he stood and put on a masking smile.
"Ah, Miss Geis, so wonderful to have you here. Your family has had a long relationship with our hotel, and we are glad to have you staying. There seems to have been some sort of mix-up, though—the room is occupied, you see. Perhaps you and your uncle made plans for the same weekend?"
Mary blanched. Her uncle wasn't supposed to be here. He was in Belgium. She tried to cover her surprise as best she could.
"I'm sorry, my uncle is here?"
"Ah, no. I'm sorry, I wasn't clear." She had to stop herself from letting out an audible sigh. "Your uncle's man is here, on business. We had a letter signed by Mr. Oliver Geis himself granting him use of the room. Only for two nights, but the room won't be available until he checks out tomorrow, you see, so..."
Mary looked at him levelly, and tried to decide what the right approach would be. The anger was mixing with worry in her stomach.
"So just give me another room," she said. "There's been a mistake, I can't be held to account for it."
The manager winced and then went back to smiling at her, and she could see that he wasn't going to give it to her.
"I'm sorry, Miss—"
"Thank you for your time," she cut off. "I'll stay with friends for the night, and be back when the room is vacant."
The man in front of her visibly deflated, and his smile widened just a little.
"Thank you very much for your understanding, Miss Geis. I hope that this confusion hasn't hurt your view of our humble establishment. I know Mr. Goring has had a long-standing relationship with your family, and I hope that can continue going forward."
"Thank you, sir."
She started walking out, and the boy followed her to the door. Then she took the bag back and started walking. She'd never been to Lisson Grove, and only been in Westminster a handful of times. With any luck, she thought, she'd happen across his address, but it didn't seem very likely.
Asking after it was a last resort. Until then, she'd wander, and with some luck someone she knew would find her. She started north.
Hyde Park provided a wonderful distraction, and a welcome chance to find a bench and rest her tiring legs. She was nearly giving up hope when she heard a familiar voice call out.
"Miss Geis?"
She turned to look. That was Davis's voice. What on earth was he doing in London? He lived in Dover. She'd met his wife and sons, knew the street he lived on.
"Davis? What are you doing here?"
"Ah, I knew it was you! What a surprise." He smiled and stood at a respectable distance.
"Davis, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for someplace, and..." she shook her head and made a face. "I don't know London very well, perhaps you could direct me?"
"I can do my best, ma'am, but where are you hoping to go?"
"Do you know where Lisson Grove is?"
She saw something in his eyes, and it made her uneasy. He knew where she was going. She tried to write it off—he was concerned for her, or perhaps there was a bit of judgment.
But it wasn't. She'd known Davis for nearly all of her twenty years. He was a fixture in her family. And in that time, he'd been one of the gentlest men she knew, short only of her father. But what she saw in his eyes was a foreign hardness. He hadn't been judging her, he'd been taking her int
o account.
"Yes, of course. I can take you there, if you like."
She realized, with a sick feeling in her stomach, that she wouldn't like. She'd trusted him before, but now she was beginning to wonder, and she needed time away from him if she was going to rebuild that trust. Time to write off his behavior. Even now, her brain worked overtime to explain away his strange, off-balance expression.
"No, that's alright. I just need directions, and I'll be back on my way."
He picked up her bag. "Don't be absurd, Miss Geis. I was just on my way there now."