Read Online Thea's Marquis by Carola Dunn - Free Book Online Page B

Rod interrupted. “I doubt he’s an incorrigible villain and I’ve a mind to enquire further into this matter. I’ll stand surety for the boy. I am the Marquis of Hazlewood and you may find me in Arlington Street, St. James’s.”
    “Yes, my lord. Certainly, my lord.” The constable wrote laboriously in his notebook. “What’s your name, boy?”
    “Peter Barker. I don’ ’ave to go to gaol?”
    “Long as you stays out o’ trouble, young fella-me-lad. If you goes pinching stuff again, you’ll be ’anged and ’is lordship ’ere’ll ’ave to pay. You mind what ’is lordship tells you.”
    “Oy, what abaht me apple?” demanded the barrow man, unimpressed.
    “I’ll pay you for the apple and I’ll take a dozen more.” Rod dropped a shilling into the man’s outstretched palm.
    “‘Elp yerself, m’lord, and if yer wants my advice, keep yer ’and on that young bugger or ’e’ll scarper.”
    Rod put a couple of apples in each pocket of his topcoat and, at his gesture, the wide-eyed boy stuffed the rest into his pockets and torn shirt-front.
    “Can I give one to my sister?”
    “If she really exists, you may give them all to her. Where is she?”
    Peter pointed south, towards the river, and started eagerly in that direction. About to follow, Rod suddenly remembered Thea. He glanced around. She was standing a few feet behind him, a look of helpless distress on her face. She had every right to take him to task for deserting her.
    “My apologies. Miss Kilmore. I shall have to take you back to the carriage and send you home without my escort, I fear.”
    “Let me come with you,” she begged, to his surprise. “If the little girl is ill, you must not waste any time finding her.”
    “Peter’s home is undoubtedly no fit place for a lady.”
    “I shall be safe with you. But I do think we should buy some bread and milk if she is truly starving. Apples are not very digestible.”
    He took her hand and pressed it. “A good thought. Come, then.”
    As they turned towards Southampton Street, Rod made no attempt to restrain Peter. If the boy were lying, he would make his escape, continue thieving, and eventually be caught and suffer the penalty. If he were telling the truth, he had no reason to run off.
    Peter stuck close to his side, now and then touching his sleeve as if to be sure he was really there. “Rosie’s all I got,” he confided. “Me mam died when she was born, then not too long ago Pa got bit by a prancer and ’is ’and swelled up somefing awful and ’e died. ’E were an ostler. I could’ve joined a flash ’ouse gang and been took care of, but they wouldn’t ’ave Rosie acos she’s too little to prig stuff or—” he glanced at Thea “—or anyfing.”
    “So you tried thievery on your own account.” Rod kept the judgement from his voice. For abandoned children, the choices were all too few.
    “Not till I ’ad to! I’ve swep’ crossings and ’eld ’orses, but sometimes you ’old a gentleman’s ’orses and then ’e don’t give you nuffing. I could’ve got by if it was just me, but I got Rosie to look after.”
    His fierce loyalty to his little sister reminded Rod of Thea’s protectiveness towards Megan and Penny. He had sisters of his own, both older and younger, but they had never needed more than his occasional escort. His philanthropy had turned outwards.
    Now, however, his thoughts turned to the inner man as the smell of new bread wafted to his nostrils. He had left home without breakfasting.
    “There is a baker’s shop,” said Thea.
    “Will you go in, Miss Kilmore?” He didn’t want to leave either her or the boy alone outside. “Buy what you think appropriate for the children, and add a little something for me.”
    She flushed. “I did not bring any money, sir.”
    “My dear girl, you must never go out without at least a shilling for a hackney,” he reproved her, digging in his pocket for change. The apples were in the way. He gave one to Peter,