by Quinn, Paula
They left the boardinghouse, Driskell having told them where they were going. He trailed them at a discreet distance from the other side of the street.
As they walked, Jem took her hand and said, “I think we’re going to need to leave soon. Maybe even tonight.”
“Why?” Lucy asked, wondering what made Jem reach such an important decision.
He frowned. “It’s the way he stares at you, Luce. He didn’t used to do it when you first came last year.” He paused. “It’s the same way he started looking at Becky. Before Mrs. Driskell took her upstairs to work.”
She shuddered, not understanding the situation, only knowing it must be bad if Jem was talking of running away so soon.
“Can Boy come?” she asked and turned to her other brother, who walked beside her, his eyes focused on the path ahead.
Jem shrugged. “If he wants.”
Lucy looked to Boy. “Will you come? Please?”
Boy gave her a sweet smile and nodded. She relaxed, knowing it would be the three of them together.
“We’ll leave tonight,” Jem declared. “I’ve saved a few coins.”
She gasped. “You didn’t! He’ll kill you, Jem.”
“What he doesn’t know—”
“He knows everything!” insisted Lucy. Even as they walked, she sensed fear paralyzing her. “I’m scared, Jem,” she admitted.
“Just do your bit today,” Jem said. “Don’t let on that anything’s different, especially when we finish up.”
Lucy nodded, her faith in the small boy complete. Jem was brave where she wasn’t. She would look to Jem to take care of her in the future. Boy coming along would also help. Their small family could stay together.
The narrow London streets teemed with people and vehicles. They made their way around street sellers whose carts blocked large portions of the sidewalks. Carriages and wagons competed with space as hackney cab drivers cut around them, often dangerously. Hundreds of pedestrians filled the pavement, darting in and out, dashing out into the road when vehicles came to a standstill. Lucy gripped Jem’s hand tightly since the previous evening’s snow had begun to melt, causing the sidewalks to become slippery. At least no fog hung in the air this afternoon. She didn’t like fog. It scared her.
As they walked, people shouted, “Mind! Look ahead!” as they tried to avoid the oncoming traffic. She stepped over everything from broken glass to piles of ashes that had been tossed out onto the sidewalks and streets. Driskell always stressed that they watch where they go, citing a hurt child was a worthless child if he couldn’t earn his keep.
They reached their destination, a corner where heavy traffic piled up and pedestrians were left and right. Jem had already peeled away from them a block earlier, dropping back so as not to be seen with her or Boy. Lucy watched as a nattily-dressed man bumped into another, begging his pardon, all the while lifting the man’s pocketbook from him. She’d learned by watching and seen that the best pickpockets were often the best dressed. People didn’t suspect someone dressed as finely as they were to rob them. Lucy made eye contact with the thief and he winked at her before continuing merrily upon his way.
She looked around and saw the traffic backed up excessively, thanks to several wagons which had stopped to deliver goods at nearby shops. Knowing it was time to ply her trade, Lucy glanced across the street and received Driskell’s instructions through a few gestures he made. She released Boy’s hand and allowed sadness to wash over her. Her eyes began to sting with unshed tears and then she let them spill down her cheeks. She began crying as she turned in a circle.
“Mama! Mama! Where are you?”
She continued shouting for her nonexistent, missing parent and a well-dressed man carrying a beautiful ebony and ivory cane stopped in front of her.
Kneeling, he asked, “What’s wrong, little girl? Have you lost your mother?”
Lucy allowed her bottom lip to thrust out as Driskell had taught her and nodded. “She was here and then she was gone. I had hold of her skirts and then we got separated.”
As she spoke, she watched Jem pass by and double back, barely brushing against the man. Knowing his deft fingers had already accomplished the mission, she cried out, “Mama! There is she is!” and let joy fill her face.
Lucy quickly darted away from the man and blended into the crowd, easily losing the mark because of her height. She sensed Boy following and turned the corner, where she and her brothers regrouped. As always, she was aware of Driskell close by, watching them from a distance.
They wandered the streets for several hours, plying their trade, and then met up with Driskell, who held out a sack. Jem dumped in the afternoon’s haul but Lucy noticed a slight bulge and knew he kept a pocketbook back from Driskell. She glanced at her feet, not wishing to give away what she knew.
It didn’t matter. She heard the danger in Driskell’s tone as he asked, “Is that it?”
“That’s all I got. Better than yesterday and we’ve only been at it a few hours,” Jem said with confidence. “With the opera tonight, we’ll make plenty today.”
“You’re holding back, boy,” Driskell said, his words icy.
Lucy saw him reach for Jem, who darted away. He began running as Driskell gave chase. The older man slipped on the ice and came crashing to the ground, curses pouring from his lips. Jem kept running. She couldn’t help but smile in victory, knowing Jem would get away.
Then the unthinkable happened.
Lucy saw it unfold as if in slow motion. The hansom cab turning the corner too fast. The cart being pushed by its seller. Jem running, looking over his shoulder, not watching where he ran. Then he hit an icy patch and his feet flew out from under him. He collided with the cart, the wares toppling to the ground, scattering apples and pears everywhere. The cab plowing into it.
And Jem screaming.
She tried to race to Jem’s side but fingers tightened around her arm. She glanced and saw Boy holding her back, shaking his head sadly as the horse whinnied and reared, trampling her brother. Lucy broke away from Boy and hurried to Jem, passing Driskell who stood slowly, brushing himself off. She reached the accident and heard an eerie keening.
It came from Jem.
Their gazes met, his eyes filled with agony, blood bubbling from his lips.
“Run,” he croaked and then his eyes glazed over.
Lucy screamed shrilly as she stood. She began running, not caring what direction she went. She saw Boy take off, running left as she went right. She continued moving, an ache swelling inside her.
Jem was dead.
They would never escape. She would be a pickpocket and then do whatever Becky and the other girls did.
No. She wouldn’t. She owed it to Jem to get away. Lucy stopped in her tracks, looking wildly around her. She no longer saw Boy and hoped he had gotten far away. She did, however, see Driskell running toward her, murder in his eyes. She refused to let him catch her. She would never go back to his house. She would rather die begging on the streets than remain with him and his wife, becoming what they made her.
With that, Lucy took off running again. She ran and ran and ran, darting between people. Under carts. Through alleys. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs ached and it felt as if her tears had frozen on her cheeks.
And then Lucy ran some more.
Chapter Two
Luke St. Clair, Earl of Mayfield, opened the door and left Evie’s Bookstore a final time, going to stand in front of the largest window to assess the final display his wife, Caroline, had just completed. Caroline had filled the store with greenery, much as she had their country estate, giving Evie’s a festive air for the holiday season. He studied the window’s contents with a careful eye, knowing Caroline expected his honest opinion.
He motioned for her to switch a couple of items around and then nodded with satisfaction. A beautiful smile lit up her face, first as she gazed at her work and then as she met her husband’s eyes. Love burst inside and shone brightly within him. He’d been bles
sed with three wonderful children and a fulfilling life with this beautiful, kind, compassionate woman. His wife was his confidant, lover, and best friend. Luke winked at Caroline and she began laughing as he hurried from the chilled air and returned inside.
“You’ve outdone yourself this year,” he said as he embraced her. Lowering his lips to her ear, he added, “And I’m sure you’ll outdo yourself tonight in our bedchamber.”
“Luke St. Clair!” she admonished, trying to keep a proper air of dignity and failing miserably.
Instead, it was Caroline who kissed him, long and deep, the kiss filled with the promise of what would come later that evening. She broke the kiss.
“You’re sure everything looks perfect?” she asked. “I so want it to please Catherine when she arrives tomorrow for her reading.”
“Catherine will be overjoyed at the displays, especially since so many of her books, including her latest release, are presented so prominently,” he replied. “You’ve always had a great eye for detail. Catherine—and the patrons of Evie’s Bookstore—will notice and admire all you’ve done.
Evie’s Bookstore and Tearoom was owned outright by Caroline, a combined business she’d established even before their marriage six years ago. It had become the custom for his sister-in-law, the Duchess of Everton, to come to do a reading for an audience of children and adults each time she published one of her new children’s book. Catherine’s reading of The Kind Caterpillar’s Christmas tomorrow was the reason Luke and Caroline had come to London this time of year and brought their children along. Usually, they remained in the country unless it was the Season.
“Shall we go home?” he asked. “There’s nothing more to be done here.”
Caroline agreed and they went to the waiting carriage. He handed her up and the driver set off for their London townhouse. On the short way there, they discussed what presents they would purchase in London before returning to the country two days from now. This year, they would be spending Christmas at Edgemere, home to his sister, Rachel. The St. Clairs were close-knit siblings and they rotated between their country estates, celebrating Christmas with their entire families each year. Rachel was home with Evan, the Marquess of Merrick, preparing for their visit in ten days’ time, while his brother, Jeremy, had accompanied Catherine and their children to the city for the book reading.
Laurel would have to miss this St. Clair Christmas, though. She and Anthony were awaiting the birth of their second child, which the doctor said was likely to come on Christmas Day. Hudson, her twin, had chosen to go to Linwood during his university holidays in order to be the first St. Clair to meet the new niece or nephew.
When Luke and Caroline arrived at the townhouse, they learned Nanny had already taken their three children to the Everton household to spend the night with Jeremy’s brood. He glanced at the grandfather clock and saw they were due at Jeremy and Catherine’s for dinner within an hour—which gave them plenty of time for what he had in mind. He led his wife to their bedchamber and helped remove Caroline’s cloak, nibbling on her neck.
“You are still a rascal,” she said as she turned to face him, her voice low and husky, bringing a tingling of anticipation to him. Then she frowned.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, ever sensitive to her moods.
“Oh, I forgot my reticule in Walton’s office,” she told him, worrying her bottom lip.
He couldn’t understand why women even carried them, much less why Caroline fretted, especially since they’d be back at Evie’s tomorrow morning. “Do you need it?”
A blush tinting her porcelain cheeks. “Actually, I do. I’d ordered a . . . special book. It came in and I slipped it inside my reticule.”
He captured her waist, his thumbs massaging her ribcage. He loved watching her eyes go large and hearing the hitch in her breath. “How special?”
“It was . . . something I thought . . . we might look at tonight. Together,” she demurred.
He lowered his face until his lips were hovering above hers. “It’s naughty?”
“Yes,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning up. “Rachel told me about it.”
He chuckled. “Leave it to my sister to find something like that.”
“Rachel said it’s very interesting. And there are all kinds of things to . . . try out.”
Luke’s lips touched hers and he took his time leisurely exploring her mouth, enjoying those little noises that came from the back of her throat. He broke the kiss.
“Then I better go back and retrieve it. We’ve only tonight to ourselves to enjoy total peace and quiet until the monsters return tomorrow.”
Caroline swatted him playfully. “They are not,” she protested. “They are the sweetest of children and you love them dearly.”
“I do love them dearly,” he agreed, nuzzling her neck. “And I adore their mama even more.” With a final, swift kiss, he released her. “I’ll be back soon. You can dress for dinner. You know it never takes me long to get ready.”
“Luke?” She grabbed his lapels and gave him a sweet kiss. “Thank you for going.” With a twinkle in her eyes, she added, “I promise more of that when you return.”
“Then I will run the entire way there and back.”
He left the townhouse, not bothering the call for the carriage since traffic had been thick on the way home. They were only a few blocks from Evie’s and he could walk there and back more quickly than if he had the horses brought around again.
Minutes later, he turned the corner and stopped. A little girl stood in front of the largest display window, staring hungrily into the window, as if she wished to gobble up every book inside. As he approached, he saw her blue cloak was of good quality and it concerned him that she was alone at night. Though Mayfair was a safe part of town, he needed to make certain she found her way home. Hopefully, she’d merely wandered a short distance from her mother or father.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” he asked as he approached.
She wheeled to face him. He was a large, tall man and probably had frightened her. She looked to be only five or six years old, with large, blue eyes and golden-blond hair. Up close, he thought her too thin, as if she didn’t eat enough. Worry filled him, especially when he observed how quickly she assessed him. The look in her eyes was that of an old soul, one who had seen much.
The girl balled her fists as if she were ready to fight him. Luke held his arms wide, palms open, trying to prove to her that he was no threat.
“My wife owns this bookstore,” he told the child. “Her name is Caroline. I am Luke.”
Though she remained wary of him, her fingers relaxed, and he asked, “Do you like to read books?”
She shrugged and then said, “I’ve never had one.”
Luke’s heart broke hearing those words. Books had been his escape from a father who ignored him.
“I can’t imagine not having books in my life,” he shared. “I’ve traveled all over the world, thanks to reading. Been on adventures to the Far East and Africa. Books have been a friend to me and my entire family.”
He saw the longing on her face and said, “It will be Christmas soon. How about I give you an early present? You could pick out any book you see in the window and it will be yours.”
Her eyes hardened, shocking him. No child should have lived a life that put that kind of look on her face.
“What do you want for it?” she demanded.
“Nothing at all. I’m offering it to you in the spirit of Christmas.”
Her defiance softened. The yearning on her face tore at him. He reached out to take her hand and panic seized her.
“No!” she shouted and ran so swiftly she blended into the dark before he could react.
Pity filled Luke. Though the girl had been dressed decently and appeared to be innocent, instinct told him she was a child of the streets and survived by her wits alone. He wondered if she’d ever had a loving parent in her life. A father or mother who had once kept her safe and warm. Knowing he could
do nothing for her now, he unlocked the door and went inside, easily finding where Caroline had left her reticule in Walton’s office. Though tempted to peruse the book, especially if it had pictures, he left it inside the reticule and locked up before walking home. The entire way, he kept an eye out for the blond waif but never saw her. He doubted he ever would again.
They arrived at the Everton townhome and went straight to the drawing room, not bothering with the formality of being announced since they were family. As they entered, it didn’t surprise him to catch his brother and sister-in-law engaged in a passionate embrace. He closed the door, giving Caroline a knowing look, and then loudly cleared his throat.
Jeremy broke the kiss. A blush spread across his wife’s cheeks. Jeremy and Catherine were known by the ton for their fondness for kissing and he asked playfully, “Do you two ever stop?”
Jeremy grinned. “No. Do you?”
Luke laughed. He was happy he and his siblings had found love with their soulmates. Before Caroline, his existence had been a series of empty affairs with mistresses and bored, married wives. Gratitude filled him, knowing how satisfying life was with his beautiful, intelligent wife and their three children. He slipped an arm about Caroline’s waist and pulled her close.
Over dinner, the two couples discussed tomorrow’s reading and what Rachel might have planned for them at Christmas. When dinner ended and it came time for the men to share a glass of port while the ladies retired to the drawing room, Luke made a point of mentioning they wanted to make an early night of it, only to have his brother burst out laughing.
“An early night? You and Caroline probably won’t sleep until dawn,” Jeremy teased.
Luke shrugged nonchalantly. “With our three staying with you tonight, we need to get as much rest as we can, while we can.”
“You’re not hiding anything from us, Brother. Go ahead. Go home. Read the wicked book.”
