by Edith Layton
“Ho! Theo!” one of them called. “Just the man we was talking about. We heared they got your cat.”
“No!” Theo said excitedly. “Where is she?”
“At the palace, having tea with the Queen.”
“Go to blazes, Bill Smythe, and God rot your guts!” Theo cried as he stormed off.
“No, wait. S’truth,” the boy said, crossing his heart. “Everyone’s gabbing about it. We was looking for you. Where you been?”
Theo paused. “Working for Carter, fetching and such, when I wasn’t looking for Peaches, or coming home to take care of Nibs. And you know Carter, all work and no talk. What happened?”
“Word got out that them at the Palace was looking for a cat like yours! Honest, giving up gold for her too. So everyone was yelling ‘Kitty, Kitty.’”
“That were a treat,” another boy laughed.
“The Lark boys found your cat,” Bill went on, “and handed her over to the Queen’s own men. They did! Big strapping fellows them that took her was, from the Palace, all say, ’cause they was those who follered them back there. Them Lark rats got a reward too,” he added enviously. “But they give everyone the slip. No one can find them since. They must’ve cut and run. I know I would’ve.”
“The palace?” Theo said in confusion. “What do they want with a cat at the palace?”
“Well, it’s a secret,” Bill explained. “So it took a while to get out to us. But you can’t go looking for something around here without everybody knowing it, ’specially if you’re paying for it.”
“So why didn’t someone tell me?” Theo asked with anguish.
“We knowed you was looking too,” Bill said a little shame-facedly, “so, see, we figgered you heard about it first and was looking for the reward yourself.”
“But why would they want Peaches?” Theo asked.
“It seems the Queen lost her cat, and it’s a butter stamp of yours!”
“Well, they got the wrong cat,” Theo said angrily. “I’ll just go and tell them…” He had to stop talking because the boys were laughing so hard he couldn’t hear himself.
* * *
Elizabeth’s heart clenched. She opened the door and her hands froze on her bonnet stings. Theo was standing waiting for her, still wearing his jacket and cap. When she saw his white, strained face, her fingers faltered on her bonnet strings.
“I only came home because I didn’t want you to worry,” he said. “I have to go out again. They’re saying people from the palace took Peaches away!”
She carefully put the bag she was carrying on the table, and took off her bonnet.
“Peaches is a fine cat, Theo, but they’re having fun with you. Why would anyone from the palace take her?”
“They say the Queen lost her cat and Peaches could be her twin. I know it sounds loony, that’s why I have to go out and ask around more. I didn’t have time because I came home fast to tell you what I’m going to do.”
“You are not,” Elizabeth said firmly, avoiding his eyes as she took a jar of soup from the bag.
“Elizabeth,” Theo said as firmly. “Listen. I came home to take care of Nibs twice today. I took him out and soon as he came back he went sniffing all over the room, couldn’t lie down until he was too tired to stand up. He misses her, he’s looking for her. He went back to his bed and gave such a great sigh just now! And he won’t eat a morsel. You have to let me go. I have to ask around. I won’t go far, but if I can’t do anything I’ll die too, not just old Nibs!”
“It’s dark,” she said desperately. “I can’t let you go off alone into the night—I know what! If you feel you must, I’ll go with you.”
Theo looked at his sister, her face rosy from the cold, her brilliant topaz eyes wide with distress. He shook his head. “You worked all day, it’s cold and coming on to snow.”
“Fiddle! That’s nothing, come, we’ll go.” She put the bag she held on the table. “We’ll just let our soup cool a bit.”
“No,” he said sadly. “To tell the truth, and I know I have to, there are places I must go where you never can.” She started to speak. “Wait!” he said as solemnly as a grown man. “Listen. Those are places I’d be safe enough, because I know the lay of the land. I’m quick and small enough to go anywhere. Besides, everyone knows I got no money. What’s another kid running around the streets at night here anyway? Nobody will care. But you—you’re so pretty… It would be terrible if you went with me. Because then I’d have to protect you, and we’d both be in the soup. Talk about that!” he said with a forced laugh. “Keep mine covered, I’ll be back before it cools.”
He saw her expression and raised his eyes to hers. She could see they sparkled with unshed tears. “Please,” he said. “I won’t sleep if I don’t. How can I, knowing Nibs isn’t eating and not knowing where Peaches is? I won’t be long, I promise. But let me go now, because some of the places I have to go I wouldn’t want to go to late at night!”
She wanted to laugh, hearing such bravado from such a young boy. She wanted to cry too.
“I know my way ’round,” he said softly, “better than you want me to, I’d wager.”
She stared at him. That was something she didn’t want to admit. But she acknowledged it. She drew herself up. “You’ll be careful? And not be gone above an hour? Because if you are, I’ll come looking, I promise.”
“You won’t have to stir a stump!” he shouted as he ran out the door, “I’ll be back in time, I promise!”
* * *
Theo stood on a street corner only a little while later, staring into the blind night. He’d heard enough. The story was true. The Queen had sent men to take his cat! He didn’t doubt it for three reasons. One was that the Queen had enough power to do whatever mad thing she wanted to do. Another was that people he trusted had told him so. And the last was that—who wouldn’t want his cat?
He stood paralyzed by indecision, shivering with cold. He wondered. Peaches might be better off where she was. Queens fed cats cream and strawberries and such, and gave them silk cushions to sleep on. He was sure he’d heard that somewhere.
But Peaches slept curled up to Nibs and so she was never cold, and he fed her what she needed because she was a fine stout cat, wasn’t she? And Nibs needed Peaches, and so did he, Theo thought, his indignation rising. She’d been doing just fine with him, hadn’t she? And she hadn’t run off, she’d been stolen.
Theo was a poor boy from a huge city; he’d never even seen the palace. But the blood of generations of free men flowed in his veins, and it was boiling now. This was a wrong that should be righted, not just for his sake, but for all England. What sort of country was it where a person’s cat could be nipped out from under his nose by his own ruler? He’d give her this much, maybe she didn’t know. But how could he get to the Queen to tell her the mistake?
Impossible.
So who could help him?
Theo stood, thinking deeply. His eyes widened. He suppressed a rolling chill that had nothing to do with the weather. Then, squaring his narrow shoulders, he took to his heels and ran off, heading toward the river.
* * *
Theo looked down the broken steps that led to the tilted door.
There was no sign over it. If a person didn’t know what was behind that door, it would be madness for him to enter. It was madness to go in there anyway. But it was where he had to be. He braced himself, then hurried down the cracked steps, opened the door, and stepped into the tavern.
The tavern was crowded, noisy and light. There was laughter and singing, drinking and eating. It was as bright and merry as a debutantes’ ball. Dozens of lanterns were lit, branches of candles glowed, torches flared from high on the walls. The patrons of this tavern needed the darkness for most of their lives. But when they weren’t working, the light was a luxury they all enjoyed. They only needed to hide their faces from the innocent, after all. And there were none of them here, in this, one of London’s lowest thieves’ dens.
No one seemed to no
tice Theo as he sidled into the tavern. But of course he was seen. Nothing went unnoticed by the denizens of this place.
He walked into the room, trying not to cough in the dense smoke that was turning the air blue, or blush because of the snatches of conversation he heard that was turning it bluer. The stench of the place made him wrinkle his nose—a mixture of wood and tobacco smoke, candle grease, fumes of burning coal, the heady aromas of beer and whiskey, and the stink of the unwashed. Wood shavings on the floor and that which had fallen in them added another sour aroma. Theo took shallow breaths, and kept looking.
The man he sought was sitting at a table in the back of the room. He was surrounded by women and ringed by men. A young man of average height, he looked trim, well dressed for this place or any other. He wore a fitted blue coat and immaculately white linen, and his overlong hair, like the rest of his person, was clean. His face was dark, his cheekbones high, his nose straight, and that hair was also straight, so black it reflected blue in the lamplight. His eyes were black as night too, ringed by starry lashes long enough to hide every secret they held, and they held a multitude. He looked and spoke so well that many people said he’d obviously fallen and was working his way down in the world. An equal number said he’d been born in the gutter and was working his way up.
A red-headed woman in a scarlet dress sat on his right, stroking his hair. She wore her dress so low that Theo had to look away. But it was higher than the blond woman’s on Thomas Farrow’s left. He wasn’t paying attention to either of them, he was laughing at something one of the men standing beside him said.
Theo had known it wouldn’t be easy to get his attention. He walked to the table, whipped off his cap, held it in front of him, and cleared his throat.
He said, “Excuse me, Mr. Farrow, but I need a word with you.”
He said it several times, in fact, but no one heard him.
The man he spoke to kept listening to the other men and women as they performed for him. Theo thought it looked like Thomas Farrow was a king holding court. That reminded him of his mission, and gave him the courage to go on.
“Thomas Farrow!” he shouted.
The table grew still. In a heartbeat, the room became deadly quiet too. These were people who lived by their wits and reacted in seconds, so in the wink of an eye, there were knives and pistols in many hands. And everyone was staring at Theo.
He swallowed hard.
“Yes?” Thomas Farrow said smoothly, looking bland. “I am he. And you wanted…?”
“I have to talk to you,” Theo said quickly.
Thomas waved a well-manicured hand. “Go on.”
“Here?”
“Here or no other place,” Thomas said. A look of boredom came into those fathomless eyes, making Theo speak up.
“Thing is,” Theo said fast, turning his cap in his chapped hands as he spoke. “The Queen stole my cat and I want her back but how can I get to the palace to get her back?”
If possible the room went more still, though soon there were a few muted chuckles heard.
“I need someone who knows how to do such things,” Theo said desperately before the laughter could build and drown him out. “I can pay…” His face turned red as he realized how paltry the amount was, so he added quickly, “not much, not now, but I will be in your debt forever, and I will pay you back one day.”
“So they all say,” Thomas said. “But I still live.”
Now the audience laughed.
A man to Thomas Farrow’s left bent and whispered in his ear. Thomas raised his hand for silence, then looked at Theo…this time with real interest. “You say the orange cat is yours?” he asked.
Theo nodded. “You know about it?”
“Who doesn’t? I myself sent along seven cats that might fit the bill. But you claim the one she settled on is yours?”
“Peaches is mine all right,” Theo said eagerly. “You could ask anyone. I’ve been looking for her for days, before the Queen even missed her cat, I’d bet. Tonight I heard my Peaches was scooped up by the Queen’s men and taken away, and it isn’t fair. I have this old dog, Nibs, see, and the cat means everything to him. He won’t eat or drink without her. And…” Theo ducked his head and paused so he wouldn’t sniffle. Who’d listen to a crying baby? he thought viciously, trying to get himself under control.
“And the dog means everything to me too, you see,” he finally managed to add in a hoarse little voice.
He caught his breath, glad that the tears that threatened had been stoppered. There were sniffles, though. Grown men who would kill another man soon as look at him were openly sniveling. Women who’d murder their best friends to get their glass of gin were weeping. Here was a poor boy looking for a cat that a sick dog needed. And Christmas was coming. There was something for everyone to blubber about.
“Poor lad,” some muttered.
“But the old Queen never meant no harm,” one man said.
“Mebbe not, but look at the ’arm she’s caused, eh?”
Several opinions were offered, but all grew quiet when Thomas put a hand up for silence again. “I see,” he said thoughtfully. His dark eyes opened wide as he studied Theo. “And you are…?”
“Theodore Miller, sir.”
“Ah! Miller. Yes. Your sister works for the milliner, Mrs. Sunshine, doesn’t she? I took Sukey Sims there once,” he told another man at the table. Then he turned his unblinking gaze on Theo again. “Your sister is the model the milliner uses to show her bonnets, isn’t she? Elizabeth, I believe her name is? Yes, I’ve seen her since, on her way to and from here and there… She’s got your eyes, you know, young Theodore. Honey brown,” he murmured. “No, sunlight in honey. But blind to me. Won’t give me the time of day… Well. So you want your cat back from the Queen of England, and you came to me to get it. Now that,” he announced to the spellbound company, “is confidence. But is it misplaced, I wonder?”
A chorus of cries of “No!” and “Never!” followed.
“Anything said here is never repeated anywhere else,” Thomas said mildly enough, but the look in his eyes made the room fall still again. “Even so, I’d rather discuss this further with you in private.” He rose from the table. “Come along, young Theodore, I’ll walk you home. We’ll talk as we go,” he added. “And I devoutly hope, for the sake of whoever might be rash enough not to take my meaning, that none of this is ever talked about by any of this company again either.” His intense stare scanned the room, until every watcher looked away from it. Then, satisfied, he called for his greatcoat.
When Theo and Thomas stepped out into the street the night felt even colder in comparison to the overheated tavern, and snow had begun to fall.
“Now, then,” Thomas said, “tell me more.”
They walked on as Theo earnestly explained his problem. Their footsteps were muted by the new-fallen snow, but Thomas’s bodyguards, following silent and unseen behind, never lost sight of them.
Elizabeth was pacing when the door finally opened. She looked up and smiled, but then gasped when she saw who was standing with Theo on her doorstep, a smile on his dark face.
“Never fear, Miss Miller,” Thomas said smoothly. “Your brother is safe. I returned him to you myself just to be sure of it.” He tipped his hat. “Don’t let the cold in. I’m just leaving. Good night, Elizabeth. And Theo, we shall meet again.”
When the door closed, Elizabeth spun round and stared at her brother. “You went to Thomas Farrow! But he’s a… He’s a…”
She paused, then settled for saying weakly, “I never acknowledge him when he speaks to me.”
“He said he’s going to get Peaches back for me,” Theo said stubbornly—worry that he’d done a very wrong thing making him brusque.
“And what does he want in return, if he does do it?” she breathed.
“Just my friendship.”
His sister sank into the room’s only chair. “Oh, Theo,” she whispered. “Oh, Theo! What have you done?”
* * *
<
br /> “I’m sorry, Mrs. Sunshine,” Elizabeth said again, nervously but emphatically. “My aunt is very ill and I cannot in all conscience not visit her this morning. I’ll be back by noon and will work all the harder for my absence, but how can I celebrate Christmas without knowing how my only remaining aunt is faring?”
She waited, silently praying. If her employer said no, she’d go anyway. But if she went, she’d be out of work, and good jobs were rare. She didn’t want to be a servant, and couldn’t leave Theo to go as a governess or a lady’s companion. This position was everything to her. Staying out of the clutches of Thomas Farrow was everything else. If she owed him anything he’d have a hold on her. He was handsome and clever, but utterly without morals. Since her father had left her destitute she’d seen a part of the world she’d never known existed, and had also seen what happened to young women who fell in with men like Thomas Farrow. She’d beg for alms before she’d be indebted to the likes of him.
“Very well,” Mrs. Sunshine sniffed, after a pause to make Elizabeth realize how great a favor she was granting. “Go. But be back by noon, or I will find someone who appreciates her job.”
Elizabeth thanked her, and left the little shop. She headed toward the palace. She’d seen it once, years past, in better times, when her parents had taken her for a Sunday outing. Theo had been a baby then. But she could never forget the sight of the place. White and sprawling, ringed by gates, guarded by soldiers, vast enough for three streets full of houses, with more rooms than she had hairs on her head, she was told. Hysterical laughter rose in her throat. She throttled it back.
But how was she supposed to get a word out of anyone connected with the palace, much less get her hands on the Queen of England’s cat?
* * *
After Elizabeth left for her shop, Theo did his usual chores before he set out for work. He walked Nibs, brought him home, waited until the old dog had again circled the room, sniffing the floor and blinking its bleary eyes looking for Peaches. The weary animal took only a few laps of water, turned his nose up at any offer of food, then collapsed into its bed. Theo petted him, then left and shut the door tight behind himself. He set a brisk pace as he headed out. Today he wouldn’t be working for coins.
