Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER NINE
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GARDENS
"IS THIS HOW YOU'RE BOTH LIVING?" Tewkesbury posed the question hesitantly.
Theodosia and Enola had led him towards the room they had rented in the lodging house, and as soon as they entered— Tewkesbury began to look around the room with judging eyes. She would've scolded him if she hadn't done the same.
Theodosia allowed her eyes to wander over to their side of the room and blushed in embarrassment when they realised it was in a state of disarray. Dresses strewn under the bed, stray gloves falling off their nightstand and newspaper clipping entailing dress sales peeked out from under her pillow. She shuffled over and began to clean while Tewkesbury and Enola went back and forth.
"Did you just rent a room at the Ritz?" Enola asked, accompanied by the quirk of a brow as she cracked open the one window they were granted.
Tewkesbury almost snorted, "I afforded myself a place more comfortable than this."
"Tewkesbury," Theodosia sighed, finally done with sprucing up her bed, "We weren't exactly prioritising fine living. We were prioritising finding you."
"I find it hard to believe you weren't prioritising fine living."
"The woman we boarded off assured us this was a fine room," Enola defended.
"The woman you boarded off...lied," He grinned, tugging off his coat and dumping it on Theodosia's bed.
"Hey!" Theodosia frowned, snatching up the coat and throwing it back at him.
"We have two beds, so Theodosia and I could share one while you—"
Not listening to a word that Enola was saying, Tewkesbury interrupted, "You collect old newspapers?"
He had plopped himself on Enola's bed and had begun grabbing at a few stray pieces of ink-printed paper Enola and Theodosia had been inspecting.
Theodosia's eyes widened, quickly hurrying over to stop him, "Careful, we haven't finished with those—!"
"Oh! I'm in this one!" Tewkesbury exclaimed proudly, showing off a page where his sketched face was plastered loudly in the middle, "Why do you keep all these old newspapers, anyway?"
"My mother," Enola explained swiftly, "We're waiting on a message from her. She hasn't, yet."
"A message..? What..." His voice trailed off, looking at them with questioning eyes.
"She likes ciphers a lot," Enola informed him but his face didn't change.
"But why would she leave a message?" Tewkesbury asked. He turned to the blonde, "And how did you find Theo again?"
