horse again and ran his grimy fingers soothingly along the veined, satiny neck.
“You know about horses, boy?”
“I ’ad an uncle once what worked as a farrier on a big estate. And I ’elp take care o’ the dray horses up at the brewery.” Finally the boy took the coin he was offered and looked at it.
“See that you buy something to eat,” Carver muttered sternly.
“Thanks, Mister!” The boy’s eyes opened wide. “That’s a whole shillin’!”
“Yes…well…don’t spend it on the cockfights. Put food in your stomach and don’t—”
The boy would have dashed off, but Carver’s long arm reached down and grabbed him by the collar so he stopped abruptly, almost falling over his too-big boots.
“Don’t give it to your mother for gin or your father for gambling.”
“I ain’t got no ma, Mister. No pa neither. Jus’ me and me sister.”
“A sister?”
Sniffing loudly, the boy wiped his nose on his sleeve. “She’s littler ’an me. I look after ’er.”
“I see. Sisters can be a handful.”
“They can that, Mister.”
With his free hand, Carver retrieved another coin and gave it to the boy. “Where do you live?”
“Here and there.” The boy’s eyes became wary. “Round an’ about. Why? I ain’t done nuffin’.”
Molly watched Carver’s face soften slightly, but he said nothing, just let the boy go, watching as he tripped and shuffled down the street, yelling for his friends to see what he’d got from the “rich toff.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Molly remarked. “Any moment now you’ll be surrounded with begging hands. They’ll strip you of your fob watch and that fine silk handkerchief before you know it.”
“Do you know that boy?”
“Only by sight. He’s a regular on this street. There are a lot of children like that one, orphaned or as good as, doing whatever they can to get a few coins here and there.”
He shook his head. “Something should be done about it.” Carver was still looking in the direction of the disappearing boy. Perhaps the fact that he mentioned a sister had struck a chord with the earl, who always complained about his own. Of course, his problems with Mercy were very different to the sort the ragamuffin knew. But still it was a connection, she supposed. “Next time you see him, send him to me, or to Edward Hobbs. I’m sure we can find an apprenticeship for the boy. He looks strong and capable, knows about horses…whatever is the matter, Miss Robbins?”
“Naught, your lordship.” She didn’t feel the cold as much now. It was as if a little patch of sun had come out, although she couldn’t see it yet through the leaden clouds.
“Your face is doing odd things,” he snapped.
She bit her lip.
“There…again. Is something amiss?”
Molly took a breath. “No, your lordship. It just seems strange to hear you being…concerned for others.” She shrugged awkwardly. Oh dear, that didn’t sound right either. “I don’t mean to say that you never are…it’s just that…” What could she say to make it better? She was shocked to see him up and out of bed at this hour? That confession would hardly help improve things. The truth was, her sightings of him for the past twelve years had mostly occurred as he came home or went out in his evening clothes. It was unusual for her to see the handsome but nocturnal creature out in daylight, being civil and sober, noticing the world around him. As all this ran through her mind, it must somehow have shown on her face.
“How nice to know you still think so highly of me,” he remarked tersely. “Excuse me, Miss Robbins, I can’t stand here all day talking to my little sister’s former lady’s maid. I must go before I am besieged with street urchins and their grubby hands, ready to fleece me of every item in my possession.”
In the next sigh of a haughty exhale, he was gone, turning his horse sharply and trotting off down the street. Molly watched for a while in case he glanced back at
“You know about horses, boy?”
“I ’ad an uncle once what worked as a farrier on a big estate. And I ’elp take care o’ the dray horses up at the brewery.” Finally the boy took the coin he was offered and looked at it.
“See that you buy something to eat,” Carver muttered sternly.
“Thanks, Mister!” The boy’s eyes opened wide. “That’s a whole shillin’!”
“Yes…well…don’t spend it on the cockfights. Put food in your stomach and don’t—”
The boy would have dashed off, but Carver’s long arm reached down and grabbed him by the collar so he stopped abruptly, almost falling over his too-big boots.
“Don’t give it to your mother for gin or your father for gambling.”
“I ain’t got no ma, Mister. No pa neither. Jus’ me and me sister.”
“A sister?”
Sniffing loudly, the boy wiped his nose on his sleeve. “She’s littler ’an me. I look after ’er.”
“I see. Sisters can be a handful.”
“They can that, Mister.”
With his free hand, Carver retrieved another coin and gave it to the boy. “Where do you live?”
“Here and there.” The boy’s eyes became wary. “Round an’ about. Why? I ain’t done nuffin’.”
Molly watched Carver’s face soften slightly, but he said nothing, just let the boy go, watching as he tripped and shuffled down the street, yelling for his friends to see what he’d got from the “rich toff.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Molly remarked. “Any moment now you’ll be surrounded with begging hands. They’ll strip you of your fob watch and that fine silk handkerchief before you know it.”
“Do you know that boy?”
“Only by sight. He’s a regular on this street. There are a lot of children like that one, orphaned or as good as, doing whatever they can to get a few coins here and there.”
He shook his head. “Something should be done about it.” Carver was still looking in the direction of the disappearing boy. Perhaps the fact that he mentioned a sister had struck a chord with the earl, who always complained about his own. Of course, his problems with Mercy were very different to the sort the ragamuffin knew. But still it was a connection, she supposed. “Next time you see him, send him to me, or to Edward Hobbs. I’m sure we can find an apprenticeship for the boy. He looks strong and capable, knows about horses…whatever is the matter, Miss Robbins?”
“Naught, your lordship.” She didn’t feel the cold as much now. It was as if a little patch of sun had come out, although she couldn’t see it yet through the leaden clouds.
“Your face is doing odd things,” he snapped.
She bit her lip.
“There…again. Is something amiss?”
Molly took a breath. “No, your lordship. It just seems strange to hear you being…concerned for others.” She shrugged awkwardly. Oh dear, that didn’t sound right either. “I don’t mean to say that you never are…it’s just that…” What could she say to make it better? She was shocked to see him up and out of bed at this hour? That confession would hardly help improve things. The truth was, her sightings of him for the past twelve years had mostly occurred as he came home or went out in his evening clothes. It was unusual for her to see the handsome but nocturnal creature out in daylight, being civil and sober, noticing the world around him. As all this ran through her mind, it must somehow have shown on her face.
“How nice to know you still think so highly of me,” he remarked tersely. “Excuse me, Miss Robbins, I can’t stand here all day talking to my little sister’s former lady’s maid. I must go before I am besieged with street urchins and their grubby hands, ready to fleece me of every item in my possession.”
In the next sigh of a haughty exhale, he was gone, turning his horse sharply and trotting off down the street. Molly watched for a while in case he glanced back at
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