Secret Lessons With The Rake. Julia Justiss

that I would one day escape for me to summon the courage to go on.’

      As she told her story, tears had begun to drip down her cheeks. Wiping them away, she sucked in deep, uneven breaths, obviously battling to regain her composure.

      His heart aching for the youth and innocence and position in life that had been stolen from her, Christopher had to restrain himself from taking her in his arms. If they hadn’t been in a public park, he would have.

      Disordered thoughts and emotions tumbled through his mind as he watched her struggle for control. Fury at the man whose weakness had forced his daughter into sacrificing herself for the family. Contempt for the unbending rules of Society that punished a woman without possibility of redemption for any lapse, whether or not she was responsible for it. The anguish of a man who’d dedicated his professional life to righting wrongs and knew there was nothing he could do to right this one. A sense of shame that, had he not recently taken it into his head to marry, believing Ellie a courtesan who had chosen that profession, he too might have done her the insult of offering carte blanche.

      ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he murmured, as, with one last shuddering breath, she lifted her face to him.

      Swiping away two final tears, she said, ‘No, I’m sorry. I thought I was done long ago with weeping over what cannot be mended. I suppose this unexpected glimpse into a vanished past got past my guard.’ She frowned. ‘My time would be better spent figuring out about what I mean to do about that glimpse.’

      ‘Do about it?’ he echoed. ‘Why need you do anything?’

      ‘There could only be one reason for my sister to be in London. She must be—eighteen now! I should have foreseen that, at some point, she might be given a Season. Only recall how strong an impression was made on you, seeing me and my sister in close proximity. Should anyone else see us and note the resemblance, it could ruin Sophie’s debut before it even begins. I shall have to avoid the fashionable shopping areas until the Season is over.’

      ‘You mean to avoid buying essentials until the family that abandoned you departs from the metropolis?’ he asked, furious on her behalf that she would be so concerned for the welfare of relations who had treated her with callous neglect. ‘Why should you further deprive yourself for their benefit?’

      ‘None of what happened was Sophie’s fault. Indeed, she was devoted to me.’ Her gaze lost its focus, as if she were looking back through the years. ‘What an enchanting child she was! And what a strikingly attractive young woman she’s grown to be. I’d rather starve than do something that would ruin her chances to make a respectable marriage.’

      Before he could remonstrate, she waved a hand. ‘But there’s no need to turn this into a melodrama. Though I should avoid areas where the ton shops, most of my purchases nowadays involve coal or candles or victuals. A young lady embarked on her first Season is hardly likely to frequent establishments that sell those. And if for some reason I should need a new gown or bonnet, I’m sure your mother would be happy to find one for me.’

      ‘Mama never needs much excuse to look for gowns and bonnets,’ Christopher agreed.

      ‘Very well, Sophie is in London, but I should be able to stay out of her path.’ She gave her head a little nod, as if finished coming to terms with the shocking development. ‘I think I’m ready to proceed back to Hans Place.’

      But as she tried to rise, she swayed, then sank back on to the bench. ‘I seem unaccountably dizzy. Perhaps I should rest a bit longer.’

      ‘Little wonder, after such a shock! The Gloucester Coffee House is just down the street. With all the coach traffic coming and going, they always have freshly made victuals. Why don’t I get us a flagon of wine and a meat pasty? Some sustenance will revive you.’

      She looked up at him gratefully. ‘Thank you. That sounds very appealing.’

      ‘Very good. You rest here; I’ll be back in a trice.’

      With that, after another concerned glance at Ellie, Christopher strode off in the direction of the Gloucester.

       Chapter Four

      His mind still on Ellie and her shocking revelations, his hands full with a flagon of wine and the meat pasty, Christopher had just exited the Gloucester when some sixth sense alerted him. Stopping abruptly, he turned to see a ragged urchin attempting to slip one thin hand into his jacket pocket, where the change from his purchases jingled.

      The urchin pulled his hand free and scuttled backward. Before he could take to his heels, a furious Christopher jammed the pasty into the hand with the flagon and grabbed his arm.

      The child struggled, trying to pull away from him. ‘Didn’t mean you no harm, guvn’r! I was jest moseying by. You leave go of me now, woncha?’

      ‘I’ll be leaving you with the nearest magistrate!’ he snapped back. But the arm twisting in his grasp was so thin, the huge eyes looking up at him under a worn cap so frightened and desperate, Christopher realised there was no way he could turn this child in—to be jailed, transported or hanged.

      They were already attracting the notice of passers-by, several patrons of the Gloucester emerging to gawk.

      ‘Aye, take ’em to the magistrate straight away!’ one cried.

      ‘Too many thieving scum like him about, preying on their betters,’ said another.

      ‘You hang on to ’em. We’ll get the landlord to send his boy for the magistrate,’ said a third.

      He’d better make away with the child before someone did just that. ‘Thank you, good friends, but I’d rather handle this myself,’ Christopher told them as, tightening his grip on the lad, he dragged him off towards Green Park.

      ‘Wh-what you meanin’ to do with me?’ the child cried, still twisting to break free.

      ‘Not call the magistrate—yet. But someone else may, if you don’t stop yelling and fighting me.’

      Apparently realising the truth of that, the boy ceased his struggling and began matching his shorter stride to Christopher’s longer one. Perhaps, Christopher thought, he recognised they were headed to the park and figured he’d have a better chance of getting away once they reached it.

      He held his tongue, too, remaining silent as Christopher led him towards the bench where Ellie rested. She spotted them as he turned into the park, and watched with puzzled curiosity as he approached with the child in tow.

      ‘That’s quite a meat pasty you’ve brought me,’ she said as they halted before her.

      ‘Yes, seems they are serving up a new variety in the vicinity of the Gloucester.’

      As he spoke, the child suddenly yanked at his arm and twisted. Had Christopher not been expecting another attempt at escape, the lad might have broken free.

      ‘Lemme go!’ he shrieked, the pitch of his voice going ever higher as he struggled against Christopher’s hold. ‘You’re thinkin’ to murder me and leave me corpse in them bushes! I didn’t do ye no harm!’

      ‘Hush, now, nobody’s going to be murdered. Although I might have to go back on that promise if you don’t stop your caterwauling,’ Christopher retorted. As the boy continued yanking away, the much-jostled meat pasty mashed against the wine flagon finally broke apart, one piece falling to the ground. ‘Now you’ve ruined the lady’s meat pie,’ he added in exasperation.

      ‘So’s you will be turnin’ me in?’ the lad said in a quieter voice. Two tears tracked down his cheeks, leaving light trails through the grime. ‘Kin I have that bit on the ground afore you does?’

      Christopher had scarcely begun to nod before the child fell to his knees and grabbed the scrap, stuffing it into his mouth without even attempting to brush off the dirt. While he and Ellie looked on, aghast, he rubbed a grimy thumb carefully