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Guarding Danger: Sinclair and Raven Series

Page 19

by Vella, Wendy


  “Very well, but only because you seem desolate without me.”

  “Oh yes, desolate,” Cam said as they all headed for the gangway. “I’ve been weeping since you left.”

  The Raven carriage was waiting for them, and he knew his men were watching and by now would know he had connections in places a great deal more elevated than he’d had when he arrived in London.

  “She’s sleeping, Harry,” Eden said. “I shall step inside, and you can pass her to me. I cannot thank you enough. The poor darling is exhausted.”

  It was as he lowered the babe into her mother’s arms that Harry felt the first shiver of awareness roll through him.

  Chapter 24

  “What is it, Harry? Your eyes have become more vivid,” Cam said as he left the carriage.

  “Do you feel anything?” He looked at Cam, who shook his head. “It’s a child then.”

  Stepping away from them, he opened his senses. Now he knew what he was doing, the shock was still there, and the colors rocked him back on his heels, but he understood it.

  “Easy.” Cam’s hand grabbed his shoulder. “What do you see?”

  “I hear the sound of a child begging for someone to stop,” Eden said from inside the carriage. “To the right.”

  Harry looked that way and found a pale pink color. They were in a building, on the second floor.

  “Do you see them?” James asked him.

  Harry nodded and started running in that direction.

  “Stay in the carriage, Eden,” he heard James say. “Henry, watch over the duchess and my daughter!”

  The bottom floor of the building was a large store selling shipping supplies like ropes and rigging.

  Entering, Harry didn’t bother with the man who asked what he wanted, he simply walked behind the counter and into the rear of the building. Once there, he took the stairs up.

  He knew Cam was on his heels, could feel him. Behind him he also knew would be James, simply because that was their way. Ravens and Sinclairs were there for each other.

  Reaching the top, he heard a slapping sound. Opening the door with enough force that that it banged on the wall, he entered.

  “Who are you? Get out!” A woman scurried away from the child cowering on the floor. Her hands were over her head.

  “Cease!” Harry bellowed, stomping forward. He wrenched the piece of leather from the woman’s hands. “You will not strike that child again!”

  “How dare you enter my premises!” The woman wore black. Dress, bonnet, and boots. Her face was tight with anger, lips drawn in a straight line.

  “Why are you beating this child?” Harry didn’t allow himself to look at the girl again, because he could feel her pain, the heart-wrenching fear of what she was enduring. Strangely, his eyes were itching now too.

  “That’s no concern of yours.”

  “Try that again,” Harry said, very aware of the two men at this back. The woman was looking from him to them and back again. “Why are you beating that child with a piece of leather when she cannot defend herself?”

  “I’m purging her,” the woman spat.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “My husband and I, we take these children and rid them of the evil they were born into. They are limbs of Satan reared by women of no morals. It is our calling to put them on the right path.”

  “By beating them. Hardly sounds a Christian thing to do,” Cam snarled, moving to Harry’s side. “Children are God’s blessing and should be treated as such.”

  “Where are the other children?” Harry asked. “I see none but the girl.”

  The girl moved so quickly no one saw it, and in seconds her arms were wrapped around Harry’s leg, her face pressed into his thigh. Harry rested a hand on her head.

  “Charity Thrice!” The woman went to grab the girl, but Harry held out a hand to ward her off.

  “Touch the child again, and I will take that piece of leather to you.”

  “Charity Thrice?” Cam asked. “Presumably there is Charity Once and Twice?”

  The woman pressed her lips together.

  “What’s going on?” The man who had been downstairs arrived.

  “These men entered our premises, Mr. Blythe, and stopped me doing God’s work!”

  Harry saw right off Mr. Blythe was not quite as committed to God’s work as his wife, because he winced as she spoke.

  “God’s work is not beating a child,” Harry snarled.

  “It’s what we need to do to make them see reason, then we can put them to work.” Mr. Blythe moved to his wife’s side. “Good, honest work that will see them stay on a righteous path.”

  “Work?” James stepped forward. “What kind of work?”

  “Splicing ropes and working on supplies needed for my store. We pay them, of course,” Mr. Blythe added.

  “And the children all come from where?”

  “The orphanage and off the streets,” Mrs. Blythe said. “We are doing the Lord’s work!”

  “The Lord, to the best of my knowledge, never told anyone to beat children or purge them because they are limbs of Satan. To enjoy beating a child because you believe it is your calling suggests the problem lies with you, not them!” Harry thundered.

  “Take up that switch, James, and show them how much it hurts,” Cam snarled.

  “I will not meet like with like,” the duke said in that tone he’d used on Sergeant Gavell.

  “I am guided by the highest authority to do my work,” the woman stated. “You have no say here.”

  “I am the Duke of Raven,” James said slowly.

  “One step below royalty,” Cam added. “So he tells us,” he said out the side of his mouth.

  “D-Duke?” The man went pale.

  “Did you buy this child so you could put her to work?” James snapped.

  The man dropped his eyes. The woman sniffed.

  “Where is this place of labor?” Harry asked. The child was sniffling into his leg, which just about broke his heart, She couldn’t be any older than four or five. Harry rubbed his eyes; they were watering now. Maybe he had caught something from Maddie.

  “I demand you answer Mr. Sinclair’s question,” James said.

  “A warehouse. Old Beamouth Road,” the man rushed to add.

  “We will be visiting this warehouse in three days. My suggestion is that what we find is a clean facility with plenty of air and light. I will also need an assurance the children are served meals each day,” James said.

  “Of course.” The man nodded quickly.

  “I will then visit it each week on a different day to check you are indeed doing what I have demanded.”

  The man and his wife paled.

  “You have no right to interfere in God-fearing work,” the woman said. “The Lord says defend the rights of the poor and needy, and Mr. Blythe and I do just that. We offer them a home.”

  “He also states ‘do not exploit the poor because they are poor,’” James snapped back.

  “How much did you buy this child for?” Harry asked the couple.

  The sum enraged him. A child’s life was worth a pittance to the Blythes.

  Taking money from his pocket, he threw it at them.

  “You own her no more,” Harry said.

  “We will come to that warehouse and expect everything is in order,” James said. “Make sure it is so, Mr. and Mrs. Blythe, or we will make your lives hell.”

  Picking the little girl up, Harry left the building with his family behind him.

  “Sometimes I forget, and then something like this happens and I am reminded of just how evil some of those who walk among us can be,” Cam growled.

  “Amen,” James and Harry said.

  Once they reached the carriage, Harry looked at the other two men.

  “I will take her with me onto the ship.”

  “It is no place for her. We’ll take her home and decide what is best there,” James said. “Get into the carriage, Harry. We are drawing attention.”

&
nbsp; Harry stepped inside.

  James explained what had happened to his wife, who still held the sleeping babe.

  “Is she all right?” Eden looked worried.

  “I’m not sure.” Harry settled on the seat, and the girl clung to him.

  “What is wrong with your eyes?” Cam asked, handing Harry a handkerchief. “They look bloodshot and are watering.”

  “It happened when I was in that room.”

  The carriage rolled through London, and Harry held the child to his chest with one hand and the handkerchief pressed to his eyes with the other. She never moved, just kept her head in his shoulder, arms around his neck.

  “James did the duke thing again.” Cam pulled out a blanket and tucked it around the girl.

  Eden sighed. “He does it well, but it can be tiring.”

  “If I may protest,” the duke in question said. “I do the duke thing when the duke thing is required. You should all be bloody grateful you have one you can trot out when it’s convenient.”

  “We’re extremely grateful,” Eden said, handing him their child. “You have the bigger arms for her to sleep in, also handy. I think there is a special place in hell for people who mistreat children. I know a few people who are already there. James’s father for one, and mine also.”

  “The Blythes have just booked a spot,” Harry said. “We shall visit that warehouse in three days. I want to ensure those children are all right. If not, we will have to help them in some way.”

  “We will,” Cam said. “Max has houses, as does Lilly.”

  “Houses?” Harry lifted the handkerchief briefly to look at them.

  They explained about Lilly’s house for children on the streets, and Max’s house for the boys who had been mistreated on ships. It humbled him to hear they did these things.

  He’d been wrong to believe they were not good people.

  “I have a warehouse in Paris. I had beds put in there and other necessities,” Harry said. “Children who have nowhere to go can stay there for as long as they need. Sometimes there are not enough beds, the need is so great.”

  “With every word you utter, your place in this family is confirmed, and yet still you don’t believe it so,” Cam added.

  “My life is in France.”

  “Can it not be in England and France?”

  They looked at him, three pairs of eyes, all wanting him to say yes. Instead he looked away and out the window with the child still clasped in his arms, confusion muddling his thoughts once more.

  Chapter 25

  Maddie had taken Fleur and Bran and gone to see the house Max had said was hers. She’d stood outside and imagined herself living in such a grand place. A place that would give them a home again. This would be very different from the cottage she’d shared with Jacques; it would also be hers alone. Max had said so.

  Rory and Kate would live next door, so if she needed them they would come. Here, Fleur had family and safety. It would be selfish of her to walk away from this now. There was also the fact that she no longer wanted to.

  “It is a nice house, as is the one next door, and I hear exceptional people are moving in.” Rory joined her. “Hello, Fleur.” He bent to place a kiss on her head, then scratched Bran’s head.

  “We’re looking at a house, Uncle Rory.”

  “I can see that, sweetie.”

  “It is a nice place, but I had heard the man moving in next door is something of a braggart.”

  “Surely not.” Rory dropped his arm around Maddie’s shoulders, and it felt right, standing there close to him. His hand was on Fleur’s head. She was changing, opening up to other people slowly.

  The fear was easing, and that made her want to step out of the shadows.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked her brother.

  “Kate wants to look through the house once more, to see what furniture we will need.”

  The smile on his face was like many she’d seen him give his fiancée.

  “You love her very much, don’t you?”

  “Very much. She has made me warm, where once I was cold.”

  Maddie laid her head on his shoulder. “I could not have asked for more for you than that.”

  She left him when Kate arrived, with the promise that they would see each other later.

  Walking slowly back down the road, Maddie enjoyed the sun on her face and the small hand of her daughter swinging at her side. She started singing a French ballad, and Fleur joined in with her sweet little voice. Right in that moment, Maddie could almost believe the hell she’d left behind on that night in France was a distant memory. The arrest still niggled at her, but her family was looking into that.

  Mistaken identity, they’d said, and yet who had identified her? She had not been here long enough to get to know anyone but family. It all sounded odd and shady. Max wondered if it was someone wanting revenge on him. But surely no one knew she was his sister yet? Essie would have been the likely target in that case.

  As they approached James’s house, she watched a carriage pull up. The crest told her either the duke or duchess was inside.

  Cam stepped down first.

  “Uncle Cam!” Fleur loved all her new uncles.

  James and Eden were next, and in her brother’s arms was Katherine, sleeping. The looks on their faces had her hurrying. Something was wrong.

  “What has happened?”

  “Harry found a child being mistreated and has brought her here,” Eden said.

  Looking in the carriage, Maddie found him rising, a little girl pressed to his side.

  “Is she hurting in any way?”

  When he looked at her, she was shocked to see his eyes were bloodshot and watering.

  “What has happened? Your eyes, Harry, they look painful.”

  “They are.” His words were gruff. “Step aside now, Maddie.”

  She did as he asked, and Harry was soon on the road with the others. The little girl had auburn hair cut short and was dressed in a gray smock. She could be no older than five.

  “I will get Essie.” Cam ran off in that direction.

  “Go to my study, and Eden and I will return shortly.” James waved them inside, and they took the stairs up with Bran on their heels. “Buttles, bring food, please.”

  “And a clean cloth damp with water,” Maddie added, thinking of Harry’s eyes.

  James’s office had been a wonderful surprise to Maddie when first she’d seen it. The ceiling was high, with the farthest wall holding floor-to-ceiling windows that made it seem as if she were stepping into the sunlight. Books lined two walls, high enough that a ladder would be needed to reach the top ones. She’d asked James if he’d read them all; he’d said not all, but that Emily, Samantha, and the others had read most of the ones he hadn’t.

  She’d secretly vowed to add her name to that list.

  The furnishings were of rich, deep reds and blues with woven patterned rugs scattered on the polished wooden floors. It was alive with a feast of color and light.

  Harry took a seat on the sofa with the child still clinging to him. Fleur tugged her hand free from Maddie’s and stood before him.

  “You are hurting, Harry?”

  “My eyes are sore, Fleur, but I’m sure it will pass soon.”

  She patted his knee.

  “Who is that?”

  “I’m not sure of her name yet. Perhaps you could ask her?”

  Fleur climbed on the sofa beside him and patted the girl’s hair.

  Maddie sat next to her daughter. “Has she spoken to you, Harry?”

  “Nothing.” He blinked, trying to clear his eyes.

  Maddie lifted Fleur into her lap. Bran crept over and laid his head on Harry’s lap

  “Hello, my name is Maddie.” She touched the girl’s shoulder. “Would you like to meet my daughter, Fleur?”

  Maddie talked softly to the child, rubbing her back. Harry sat silently with his eyes now closed, clearly in a great deal of discomfort. The little girl moved her head slig
htly.

  “Hello,” she whispered in a gruff little voice.

  The head rose and looked at Maddie, but there was no focus, eyes empty and sightless. The lids were puffy and swollen. She also had a nasty welt on her cheek.

  “She can’t see, Harry.”

  “What?” His whisper was ragged.

  “Your eyes are hurting because she is blind, but there also seems to be some kind of infection there,” Maddie said softly.

  “Dear God.” He raised her chin, studying her eyes. “You are safe here now,” he said, stroking his thumb over her chin. “No one will hurt you again.”

  The girl remained silent.

  “I am Harry, and this is Maddie.” He took the little girl’s hand and touched it to Maddie’s cheek. “And this is Fleur.” He did the same with her daughter, and Fleur sat still, allowing it. “And this shaggy creature is Bran, who wants to meet you.” Harry lowered her hand to the dog, who was still as a statue now while the girl touched his head.

  “How long have you been without sight?” Harry asked her.

  “Not long. They were sore, and slowly I lost my sight.”

  How terrifying that must have been for her, Maddie thought. She wondered if anyone had been watching over the girl.

  The butler arrived with a laden tray of refreshments, and after lowering it to a table, he handed her the damp cloth.

  “What is your name?” Maddie asked the girl.

  “We’re changing that,” Harry said. “No child should be called Charity Thrice.” She heard the rage in his words.

  Maddie folded the cloth into a pad and placed it over Harry’s eyes. His sigh told her it felt good.

  “No, indeed. What would you like us to call you?”

  “I am Daisy,” she whispered. Her hand was stroking the soft fur on Bran’s head.

  “Well now, that is a lovely name. Fleur, this is Daisy.”

  Her daughter seemed happy with that. “We are both flowers.”

  “Will you come and sit with me now, Daisy? I am a friend, and there is absolutely no need to be afraid anymore, I promise you.” Maddie lifted the girl into her lap beside Fleur so Harry could rest. His side was surely sore along with his eyes.

 

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