A Dream of Redemption

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A Dream of Redemption Page 5

by Bronwen Evans


  Saving Simon came first and Clary had failed at that too. He would not fail Simon again.

  How did he ever explain the cold, harsh realities of life to a woman who thought the world was full of gentlemen who acted like gentlemen? The opposite was more often true.

  “If you won’t tell me I’ll ask Mrs. Thorn, and as I represent the owner, she will be forced to tell me. I know you’d not like to put Mrs. Thorn in that position.”

  Her countenance challenged him and in that moment he didn’t want to protect her. If more of society understood how cruel this world was then perhaps reforms would happen sooner.

  “They are likely being sold.”

  She put down her knife and fork very carefully. “Sold,” she choked out. “I don’t think I want to know. Sold to whom, for what—slaves?”

  “You did ask.” He pushed his plate of food away; his small appetite was completely gone. “Children who have no one to look out for them are easy targets. There are unscrupulous men and women who will do anything for money, and children are a rich currency.” Lady Helen’s face went quite pale. “Are you all right, my lady?”

  “I refuse to have this conversation with you addressing me as ‘my lady.’ My name is Helen, please use it. May I call you Clary?”

  “Of course, my—” He could not bring himself to oblige her. First names were familiar, and they could not be familiar—in any way.

  “Would you tell Marisa what you know?”

  He had her there. “Of course.” However, Marisa had seen the life he’d led; she knew about the cruelties of this world.

  “Then you will tell me, please, Clary.”

  So, still the lady demanding what she wanted.

  “I suspect Mr. Glover sold children. People could order what they wanted and he’d fill their order. Usually those who had no siblings would go first, as no one would care where they were, or what was happening to them.”

  “What sort of things are the children purchased for?”

  “Anything. To be trained as pickpockets on the street, to become chimney sweeps…to be used in brothels—anything.”

  He watched his words sink in and Helen screwed her eyes shut. “I can’t, I can’t…” Tears welled and one lone tear slid down her flawless cheek. “I cannot believe this world is so cruel.” He said nothing. Her eyes flashed open, anger setting them ablaze. “But you can. You knew before we came here what was likely happening.”

  “I’m paid to know. It’s why I did not want you involved.”

  Her mouth opened and then closed. “Oh, that is why. I thought you didn’t want me to stand in for Marisa because you don’t like me.”

  He almost laughed out loud. Not like her. She was perfection but he could never utter those words. She carried on.

  “I imagined you thought me spoiled, pampered, and completely naïve. In other words, utterly useless.”

  She was partly right. But mostly he didn’t want to strip away the love and joy she found in life. “Yet, look at how you’ve helped today. The children responded to you almost immediately, and I can see the awe and wonder in their eyes when they look at you. And here you are crying over a missing child when I’m pretty sure most of your class simply would not care.”

  She swiped at the tears. “I want to do more. I will do more.” She looked at him almost pleading. “We are going to find Claire. I don’t care that it’s only one child. One child could lead to two and so on.”

  Inwardly he sighed. Since she’d mentioned Claire he’d been expecting her to say something like this. What would it do to her if they never found Claire, or they found her and she’d been abused, or she was ill, or worse?

  She pressed him. “So what are you going to do?”

  He had to handle this carefully. “What do you mean ‘do’? I’ve got rid of Mr. Glover and his harlot. The staff here will start ensuring the children learn skills so they can find honest employment.”

  “I mean what about the children that have gone missing. Claire was only taken two days ago. Surely we can find her. We will find her.”

  We? There would be no we. If anyone were going to go searching in Glover’s sewer, it would be him.

  Lady Helen would not let it be. “I want to find her. How many men do we need?”

  “While I understand your desire to help and I applaud you for it, where money is concerned men tend to be very dangerous. The world is a treacherous place. Look what happened to your sister.” Helen flinched. “I’m sure when Marisa permitted you to help she had not envisioned this scenario. She would not want me putting you in danger. Staying in this building for tonight is dangerous enough. Glover is pretty mad at losing a lucrative trade, and he might try to retaliate. You shouldn’t be here.”

  Besides, his chances of saving young Claire were slim. She could have been taken anywhere.

  “Are you saying you’ll do nothing?” She made to stand. “Fine. I will go to my brother and the other Libertine Scholars. They will help me if I ask.”

  “We may well need them, that’s true. But unless we want Glover to disappear in a hurry, taking the missing children with him—or worse, getting rid of the evidence—we have to ensure he is not aware that anyone is investigating his past dealings. Let him think the orphanage is all we are concerned with, not what he was doing through the orphanage. I’m simply saying leave me to do some reconnaissance.”

  She slowly sank back onto her seat. “That makes sense. Mr. Glover could flee with Claire if he thinks we are chasing him.” She sat silently, chewing her bottom lip, deep in thought. He could see the frustration in her furrowed forehead.

  “Why don’t I ask the men to take you home. It’s almost midnight and there is no need for you to stay here. You can come back in two days once rested and see the progress in the establishment and check the children’s welfare.”

  “No.” She was shaking her head. “I’m staying here until Claire is found.”

  A cold dread seeped along his skin. It was only a matter of when, not if, Glover took his revenge. Clary already had men guarding the front and back of the orphanage. “That is not a good idea. This part of town is not safe, and Her Grace would skin me alive if anything happened to you.”

  “I’m not leaving.” On that note she rose and the “lady” was very evident. In other words, Don’t argue with me. “Mrs. Thorn has worked very hard to make the matron’s old room suitable for me, and when Antonia left she sent the carriage back with Mary and some of my things. Mary will act as chaperone. Besides, no one will ever know I’m here. I’m unlikely to bump into anyone I know in this neighborhood.”

  “As you wish, my lady.”

  “Helen. My name is Helen.”

  The worry about her safety got the better of him. “You can’t have it both ways, my lady. You can’t want familiarity when it suits, then lord over me when it doesn’t.”

  He waited for her to get angry but instead she smiled. “You are quite right. I like that you spoke your mind.” She reached the door and before she exited the room she added, “If we are to be friends, I shall expect you to always speak your mind and tell me if I try to ‘lord over you.’ Good night, Clary,” and then she was gone, the door closed softly after her.

  Friends? Wherever in this world could a man like him ever be friends with her? His mind immediately went where he didn’t want it to go. Lovers perhaps, lady and servant as they already were, but never friends. When one was of the lower class, let alone a man with his sordid background, being “friends” with a woman of quality would never end well—for him.

  His Grace would cut his balls off.

  And he’d lose everything. His fingers felt the soothing cold metal of his key.

  He shook his head and rose to his feet. The clock showed it was midnight. He was bone tired but if he was to ascertain where Glover might be holding the children he had to go out tonight. He probably only had a few days at the most before the children were sent God knows where.

  Just then Richard, one of the men Mr
. Brown had sent, entered the room.

  “We should go soon. Boon is outside the hovel Glover ran to; he’ll alert us if there is any movement but we should get there in case he goes out tonight and we lose him.”

  Clary nodded. “I want Boon back here too. I don’t want him involved in this, he’s too young.” He picked up his greatcoat. “Have you positioned the men on the doors?”

  Richard nodded. “This building is well guarded, even got a man near the cellar.”

  “Let’s go. If we find them tonight—good. If we don’t, it may already be too late.”

  Chapter 5

  It did make Helen feel better knowing that the building was so well guarded that no one could get in. But it meant she also couldn’t get out. She knew Clary was going after Glover. He and Richard had been talking softly early in the evening and she’d heard Clary say “look out.”

  One of the boys named Boon was also missing.

  She had not bothered to change into a night rail and robe and set about pacing her room, knowing it would be foolish to venture out. She wanted to help Clary, but that would be madness. Dangerous too. Clary would be furious with her, as would Marisa. She did not know these streets, and dressed as she was, she would be a beacon of light in a stormy sea.

  However, she could not sleep. She kept picturing Anne’s face and her sorrow about her friend. Then she kept picturing what could be happening to Claire, and all Helen wanted to do was rush out into the night and find her.

  Opening the door she decided to go to the kitchen and get a glass of warm milk to help her sleep and see if she could find some cooking brandy to add a dash to the milk—a big dash.

  The fire in the kitchen still burned bright but Mrs. Thorn had long gone to bed. Instead, she saw a young lad eating a plate of cheese and meats as if he’d not eaten in a year. He jumped to his feet when he saw her.

  “Please sit, you look hungry.”

  “Yes, my lady.” He sat and continued eating.

  She studied the young urchin. “And you are?”

  “Boon.”

  “Oh, so you’ve been keeping an eye on Mr. Glover.”

  He nodded in between mouthfuls.

  “Did Mr. Homeward relieve you?”

  Again a nod.

  “Did you see any of the missing children?”

  “Nah. He’ll be holding ’em somewhere else. Mr. Homeward is hoping to follow Glover tonight and see where he goes.”

  She hoped Clary hadn’t gone alone. “Who else is with him?”

  “Richard went too, but he has gone to where that bit…where Nancy has run to. She might lead them to Glover’s treasure cove too.”

  She sunk onto the bench next to Boon. “So Mr. Homeward is alone?”

  Boon looked at her as if to say So?

  Just then another young lad came tearing down the stairs into the kitchen. “Boon, we got to warn Mr. Homeward. Glover had some men watching the door. He knows they are out on the streets searching for him, and he’s sent his team after Mr. Homeward.”

  Helen’s blood ran cold. Clary was alone. “We have to warn him. Can you take me to where Mr. Homeward is?”

  Boon looked over her clothes and shook his head. “Mr. Homeward would tan my hide if I took you out, let alone looking like that. A lady who looks like she has plenty of coin and other treasures.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “But I could stop them. They would never touch a lady. Their punishment would be hanging. That should make them think twice.”

  The young urchin said, “She’s right. It’s the first rule of the hovels. Don’t touch the gentry. They don’t care if we kill ourselves but hurt a lord or lady and they come after us like a hungry wolf chasing a lamb.”

  Boon looked torn as he eyed her warily. “He would still tan my hide.”

  She smiled at the boy. “Not if I ordered you to. You would not be able to defy my request.”

  “Nope, he’d still tan my hide. Why do you want to go out? Especially on these streets? Mr. Homeward knows how to live on these streets, he can take care of himself.”

  “I promised Anne I’d find Claire. I can’t do that if Mr. Homeward is injured or killed.”

  “You can’t do that if you’re dead on the street or worse still, taken too.”

  This was getting more than irritating. What would Marisa do? After a moment she said with a sly smile, “I’ll pay you.”

  Interest perked in Boon’s eyes. “How much?”

  Helen knew she had him. “One pound.”

  “Blimey, he can thrash me all he likes for that.” He grinned. “You’d best get a cloak, it’s cold out. Pip, can you slip out and try to find Richard and warn him?”

  She grinned back; adrenaline fluttered through her body like a trapped moth. “Let’s hurry.”

  “Mr. Homeward can take care of himself. It’s you he’ll worry about. Maybe this is not such a good idea.”

  Clary would be furious but Helen could not bear the idea of him being out there alone, not knowing he might be ambushed. She’d be safe with Boon. She knew Glover’s men would think twice at attacking a lady. “But you’ll take care of me. Just get me to Mr. Homeward. You can do that, can’t you?”

  “For one pound I can.” Boon’s chest puffed out. “Besides, no one knows these streets like me.”

  Left on her own to collect her cloak, Helen’s fear of the unknown grew but all she kept seeing was Anne’s face stained with tears from the knowledge that her friend was missing. All Helen could see was Claire being sold, and she no longer cared about her own safety. Most of London’s inhabitants faced worse every day. She’d be safe with Boon and Clary—she prayed.

  “How do we get past the men at the door?”

  “Come with me.”

  It took less than a minute to get past the men guarding the building. Boon led her to the attic and they clambered over the roof and down an old fire escape.

  * * *

  —

  Clary hugged the shadows on Salter Road down near the river. He was bone tired, sick of watching the building across the road, yet anger kept him there. To take his mind off the horror that was the life these parentless children were sold into, he would risk a glance across the river toward the Isle of Dogs—the place he’d been born.

  The smells of the streets ate at his soul, bringing back the memories of the day his mother had left them on a street corner promising she’d be back soon. He’d never seen her again.

  He couldn’t remember his father. He must have had one but the only person he’d known was his mother.

  He had nothing to compare her to, but she’d been loving. Cuddles abounded and he still remembered how it felt to be folded within her arms. He knew they were poor because they had often gone hungry but he’d always felt wanted—loved even.

  To this day Clary believed that something had happened to his mother. He refused to believe that she would have abandoned them. Simon, on the other hand, could not remember her and therefore held no such illusions. Simon believed she’d left them there so she could survive. She could feed herself but not two young boys.

  Clary shrugged the thought away. He knew how tough life could be and a part of him did not blame her if she had left them. Everyone looked out for themselves. That’s what life taught him until he’d met Her Grace.

  It was the sound of footsteps that made him focus back on the task at hand. He pressed deeper into the shadows, hoping whoever was coming his way would go past. The last thing he needed was to have anyone draw attention to his position. No such luck. The footsteps stopped near where he hoped the dark hid him.

  Before anyone spoke he smelled her lilac scent. Lady Helen. The blood roared in his head. What the hell was she doing here? Almost speechless with rage he reached out and dragged two people into the shadows with him.

  “What the hell, Boon. What is she doing here?”

  “It’s not his fault. I made him bring me.”

  He had to shut his mouth before he said things he’d later regret. He p
unched Boon’s arm. “I’ll deal with you later.” Then he turned them both around and pushed. “Now, get her back to the orphanage.”

  “Glover has sent men after you. They are waiting for you near the orphanage for when you return. We have to go back another way.” She pulled her arm out of his grip. “I wanted to warn you so don’t blame Boon.”

  “You want,” he angrily hissed. “This isn’t about what you want. I’m responsible for you, for the children, and for trying to save a young girl from a life of degradation. I can’t do that and worry about your safety. Stop being a selfish, spoiled brat.”

  Boon cleared his throat. “Gov, the door’s opening.”

  All three of them slid into the shadows, pressing themselves against the wall of the terrace house before peering round each other to see.

  Boon whispered in Clary’s ear, “That’s Glover and the man who’s been to the orphanage a few times. Don’t know his name.”

  The two men stood talking on the front steps but the trio was too far away to hear what they were saying. Clary tensed as he saw Glover move off to the right, away from the river, while the other man went left. “Damn.”

  “I’ll follow Glover’s friend,” and before he could protest Boon was slinking away.

  “Bugger.” Clary couldn’t follow. He would have to escort Lady Helen back to the orphanage, and now Glover would slink away, perhaps forever.

  “We have to follow him.”

  The warmth from her breath, combined with the lyrical notes of her voice, blew hot in his ear and he forgot for one moment where they were. He barely repressed a shiver of delight.

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “We can’t lose him, come on,” and with that she slipped into the street and set off after Glover, albeit on the opposite side of the road.

  He had no option but to follow. As he strode after her he noted how feminine her walk was, her hips swayed and he had trouble focusing on anything else. As he caught up he told her, “A pretty gown and being a lady won’t save you if Glover catches you.”

 

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