Название | Regency Surrender: Passion And Rebellion |
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Автор произведения | Louise Allen |
Жанр | Историческая литература |
Серия | Mills & Boon e-Book Collections |
Издательство | Историческая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474085793 |
‘Not at all, Miss Carpenter,’ he replied grimly. ‘I believe you have the right of it. This boy’s nothing but a bag of bones. When,’ he said, turning his attention to the dirty scrap of humanity he held in one fist, ‘did you last have anything to eat?’
The boy squinted up at him. ‘Can’t remember. Not yesterday, that’s for sure. Day before, mebbe...’
At that, even Morgan looked taken aback. ‘Look,’ he began, ‘I had no idea...’
The boy’s face twisted into an expression of contempt. ‘Your sort never do. She’s right...’ he jerked his head in Mary’s direction ‘...got no idea what it feels like to have nuffink. Or what you’ll do just to earn a penny or two....’
‘If you had the means to earn an honest living, would you, though?’ Havelock shook him by the coat collar. ‘Or would you just keep right on thieving?’
The boy snorted in derision. ‘Who’d give me a job? I ain’t got no trade. No learnin’ neither.’
‘If you can learn to pick pockets, you can learn an honest trade,’ said Lord Havelock witheringly. Then he frowned. ‘Don’t suppose anyone would want to take the risk, though.’ He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath and sighed it out.
‘My town house could probably use a boot boy,’ he said. ‘You’d get a bed to sleep in, meals provided and a wage, if you kept your nose clean.’
The boy promptly straightened up and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
‘I got no wiper, but I’d try and keep it clean if I got all what you said.’
‘Morgan? Will you let the matter drop if I take charge of the boy?’
‘I... Well, if you are prepared to attempt to rehabilitate him, I suppose I can do no less.’
Dotty and Lotty heaved a sigh, showing they were as relieved as Mary to see the boy escape the full force of the law.
‘Then if you will excuse me, ladies,’ he said, bowing first to her cousins, and then to her, ‘I had better take him there myself. Straight away. And hope that his arrival won’t induce my butler to leave,’ he grumbled.
He was scowling as he led the boy down the aisle. He didn’t slacken his hold on his collar, either. Which was probably wise. Who knew but if he let the lad go, he wouldn’t run straight back to whatever gutter he’d sprung from, and the associates who’d probably led him into his life of crime in the first place?
Damn Morgan for foisting this guttersnipe on him. Obliging him to leave, just when he was beginning to coax Miss Carpenter out of her shell.
Still, he supposed this little test had proved that she was capable of coming out of it when sufficiently roused. She’d been shaking like a leaf, but she’d managed to speak out against what was clearly a gross injustice.
For the sake of a child.
He pulled up short, turned and glanced back at her.
To find her gazing back at him, with a rapt expression on her face.
She hid it at once, by bowing her head and turning away, but he’d caught something in her look that had been encouraging. It was approval. And warmth. And, not to put too fine a point on it, something that verged on downright hero worship.
There would be no trouble getting to speak to her next time he paid a call. He could use the pretext of telling her how the boy had settled in to his new life. And take it from there.
‘I want me penny,’ said the boy, the moment they emerged from the great church door into the drizzle that they’d gone inside to escape.
‘Your what?’
‘My penny,’ said the boy. ‘That other cove said as how you’d give me a penny if I lifted his purse, then ran straight into you and let you catch me.’
‘I,’ said Havelock firmly, ‘am not going to give you a penny.’
‘I might have known. You swindler...’
‘I’m going to give you something better,’ he interrupted.
‘Oh, yeah?’ The boy’s face brightened.
‘Yes. I’m going to give you that job I promised. A man has to keep his word, you see? Especially when he gives it to a lady.’
Overnight the drizzle drifted away, leaving the sky cloudless. When the girls awoke, there was a layer of frosted ice on the inside of their bedroom window.
They shivered, red-nosed, into their clothes and rushed downstairs to the warmth of the parlour.
The moment she got downstairs though, Mary wished it wasn’t quite so cold in their room, or she could have found some excuse to stay there. For her aunt was still upset with her over what the girls had told her of their outing to Westminster Abbey.
‘I cannot think what came over you,’ said Aunt Pargetter as she poured Mary’s tea. ‘To have raised your voice to Mr Morgan...’
‘I am sorry, truly sorry, if my behaviour has offended you.’
‘It didn’t offend me,’ said Lotty, wrapping her fingers round the cup that contained her own, freshly poured, steaming hot tea.
‘Nor me,’ added Dotty. ‘I only wish I’d had the courage to speak up for the boy when that nasty verger threatened him with gaol. He couldn’t have been any older than Will.’
‘It wasn’t a matter of courage,’ Mary protested. She wasn’t a courageous person. Not at all. ‘I just...’ She shook her head. To be truthful, she had no idea why she’d picked that particular moment to finally speak her mind. She just... She’d had to endure so much, in silence, for so long. She knew what it felt like to have nothing. To be at the mercy of strangers. And yesterday, it was as though a lifetime of resenting injustice, of knowing that the strong naturally oppressed the weak and trampled down the poor for being of no account, all came to a head and erupted without, for once, her giving a fig for the consequences.
‘I just couldn’t help myself.’
‘I’m not denying you were right to feel as you did,’ said Aunt Pargetter. ‘But to risk driving away such an eligible suitor, by openly challenging him like that...’
‘Mary did just as she ought,’ said Mr Pargetter, folding up his newspaper and getting to his feet. ‘The consequences must take care of themselves.’
A tense silence hovered over the breakfast table after he’d left the room. Until Dotty cleared her throat.
‘You know,’ she said, ‘it didn’t do Mary any harm in Lord Havelock’s eyes.’
‘No,’ added Lotty. ‘He looked at her as though he thoroughly approved of her standing up for the boy.’
‘Hmmph,’ said her aunt. ‘Well, I suppose that is something.’
And though her aunt let the subject drop, the atmosphere remained tense throughout the rest of the morning, as they all waited to see if either of the gentlemen would call upon the house again.
Either Dotty or Lotty kept a vigil by the window, while Mary kept close to the fire, steadily working her way through a basket of mending.
Until at length, Lotty let out a squeal of excitement.
‘It’s him! Them! Both of them! They’ve just got out of their carriage!’
Her cousins rushed to the mirror to check their appearance, before dashing to the sofa and striking relaxed poses. Which were only slightly marred by the way their chests rose and fell so rapidly.
It