The Highlander's English Bride

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The Highlander's English Bride Page 19

by Vanessa Kelly


  With his coat flapping, he had been stuffing his shirt into his breeches as he’d bolted out of the house. Luckily, he’d come upon a chimney sweep who’d seen the women heading to the closest hackney stand. The driver remaining there had overheard Sabrina’s directions to the driver she’d hired. Graeme had eyed the fellow’s broken-down hackney and equally unfortunate nag and had made the decision to run back to the house to fetch Royal’s curricle and a groom. He’d wasted a few minutes finding the right coffeehouse, but notwithstanding that inconvenience, finding Sabrina had been as easy as falling off a log.

  “It’s what I do, lass.”

  “Your talents are quite remarkable. And annoying,” she added with a mutter.

  “You cannot imagine how annoyed I’ll be if you try anything this hen-witted again.”

  She’d started to bristle when Tilly came to her defense. “Here now, miss was just tryin’ to help me.”

  “I know, but I worry about her, Tilly. Miss has a knack for finding trouble.”

  Sabrina shot him an obscure, sideways glance. “Only lately.”

  He had to repress a smile. “Can we now come to the point of all this drama? I’m assuming Tilly had a run-in with Old Bill.”

  “Run-in with the ol’ bastard’s fist,” Tilly said.

  Old Bill would pay for that, too, Graeme silently vowed. “I wish the both of you had thought to ask me for help.”

  “This weren’t my idea, I can tell you,” Hannah finally piped up.

  “I never would have guessed,” Graeme dryly replied.

  Sabrina touched his hand. “I wanted to ask for your help, truly.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  She threw a brief glance at Tilly, who ducked her head again.

  Ah. Tilly had forbidden it. Still not a good excuse, but he understood. Sabrina had promised the girl she’d help, and Sabrina was a woman who kept her word, even if it meant marching headfirst into danger.

  Graeme gently cupped Tilly’s pointy little chin, lifting her face so he could get a better look. “I reckon he took your money, along with giving you that shiner.”

  “Ol’ Bill is quick with his fists, but I don’t care about that.” Her face suddenly contorted with anguish. “I can’t get Charlie out of that bloody orphanage. Bill will get him, and we’ll be stuck forever.”

  “No, we’ll fix it,” Graeme said.

  “I’m sorry I lost your money,” Tilly said in a small voice.

  He wanted to tell her that the money didn’t matter. But to a child like Tilly, money mattered.

  “So, what’s the plan?” he asked.

  The girl perked up. “Yer not mad that I lost yer money?”

  “It was stolen from you, lass. And I promise I’ll deal with Old Bill at the appropriate time. For now, we have to spring Charlie from the orphanage, I’m guessing.”

  “Aye, afore Bill gets to him.”

  “All right. Tilly, you and I will fetch Charlie.”

  “What about me?” Sabrina asked.

  Graeme stood. “I’ve a curricle and groom waiting outside. You and Hannah go back with him.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “I’m going with you and Tilly. I promised her I would.”

  “It’s no proper place for a lady,” he said. “I’ll not have it.”

  “But miss has to pay what’s still owing,” Tilly objected.

  Graeme reached for his billfold, but let out an exasperated sigh.

  “You forgot to bring money, didn’t you?” Sabrina said.

  “I was in rather a hurry,” he sarcastically replied. “You can give me the money, and I’ll take Tilly.”

  Sabrina rose, keeping a firm hold on her reticule. “Hannah, you go home in the curricle with the groom. I’m going with Mr. Kendrick and Tilly.”

  “Are you sure, my lady?”

  “Quite sure.”

  Hannah bolted for the door.

  “Sabrina—” Graeme started.

  She laid a hand on his arm. “I need to do this, sir. I need to help.”

  It was foolish beyond belief to let her come, but Graeme had a terrible sense that he would crush something inside her if he said no. He knew what that was like, and how damaging it could be.

  Tilly gave an urgent tug on his sleeve. “Mister, please.”

  “The both of you will do exactly as I say, is that clear?” he said.

  They returned identical nods.

  While Tilly headed for the door, Graeme took Sabrina’s arm. “You will do everything I say, lass, or I will put you over my knee for a good paddling.”

  “M . . . Mr. Kendrick,” she spluttered. “Really!”

  He was biting back a grin when the door flew open and a squat, toad-like man stepped into the room. Dressed in a bottle-green tailcoat, bright pink vest, and tall beaver hat, the fellow looked ridiculous.

  Tilly, however, let out a yelp and skidded to a halt right in front of him.

  Instantly, the man lashed out and cuffed the girl, knocking her into the lap of a startled customer who managed to keep her from hitting the floor.

  “Ye little bitch,” the toad growled. “I warned ye not to run.”

  It took but a moment for Graeme to find himself with a hand wrapped around the man’s neck, pinning him to the doorframe with the other hand.

  “Old Bill, I presume,” he snarled.

  Bill gurgled as he desperately scrabbled and thrashed, managing to land a weak kick on Graeme’s shin.

  Graeme slammed him hard into the door. “Stop struggling, ye bastard.”

  Sabrina suddenly was at his side. “Mr. Kendrick, you’ll choke him to death.”

  “All right by me,” Tilly said as she wiped her bloody nose with her coat sleeve.

  Graeme tightened his fingers around Bill’s throat, and the man’s face turned purple.

  A small fist punched him in the shoulder. “Graeme, please stop it. Now.”

  Her use of his name cut through the killing rage clouding his brain.

  She punched him again. “You simply cannot kill a man in the middle of a coffee shop.”

  He glanced down into her pale but determined features. “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure.”

  She was right, of course. It would be massively inconvenient, involving constables, magistrates, and piles of paperwork. With the king still in Edinburgh, Graeme didn’t have time for such nonsense.

  He pulled Bill away from the doorframe. “I’ll deal with you later.” Then he drilled the toad in his jaw, dropping him to the floor in a graceless heap.

  Sabrina blinked. “Goodness. That was effective.”

  “Should keep him down for a while.” He glanced at Emmy. “Sorry about the mess, lass.”

  Emmy shrugged. “I’ll have a couple of the lads dump ’im out back in the alley, then I’ll close up. That should give ye a head start.”

  “I’m obliged.”

  Tilly joined them and gave Bill’s leg a kick. “Still say ye shoulda killed him.”

  Sabrina extracted a plain linen handkerchief from her reticule and handed it to the girl. “That would have been inappropriate, dear, and most unhelpful.”

  “You’re taking all this mayhem rather well,” Graeme said.

  Sabrina shot him a wry look. “I seem to be growing immune to mayhem. My poor father would be horrified.”

  “Och, lass, he’d just blame it on me.” Graeme ushered her and Tilly up the stairs to the street.

  * * *

  In the end, it had been almost ridiculously easy.

  After a ten-minute walk, they’d reached the Orphan Home for Friendless Boys, a tall, soot-stained building with a forbidding atmosphere. Graeme had asked Sabrina—instructed her, more accurately—to let him do the talking. For once, she’d been happy to do so.

  A porter had ushered them into a small parlor to wait for the matron and the superintendent. Although covered in ghastly brown wallpaper that amplified the grim atmosphere, the room was tidy and respectably furnished.

  A
s Tilly had warned them on the walk over, the superintendent had proven to be the problem. Supercilious and suspicious, he’d initially resisted their attempts to have Charlie released into their care. The matron, a kind and rather motherly sort, had advocated for the boy’s release, but was ordered to keep silent by her superior.

  Graeme had been deferential up until that point, as deferential as a Kendrick apparently could be. But then he’d undergone a startling transformation. Sabrina had always seen him as a man more comfortable in the shadows than in the ballrooms of Mayfair. Not rough, but no typical gentleman, either. Much of the time, one would never have guessed him a son of one of the noblest houses in Scotland.

  And yet that is precisely what he became at the orphanage. He assumed an air of authority as impressive as his height, informing the superintendent that he would be consulting with his brother, Lord Arnprior, as to certain irregularities he suspected in the home’s management. Graeme had then thrown out thinly veiled references to Lady Arnprior’s close relationship with the king. The combination had the superintendent’s resistance crumpling like a used serviette. Sabrina had then handed over a few banknotes, and the deed was done.

  When she’d stood to join the others in fetching Charlie from the orphanage’s workroom, Graeme had narrowed his aristocratic gaze on her and suggested she remain in the parlor. Much to her surprise, Sabrina had found herself dropping right back into her chair.

  Graeme Kendrick could be impressively masterful and dominating, and it was quite annoying that she found such behavior so attractive.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were back on the street. Charlie, a darling, red-haired boy with his sister’s eyes, clung to Tilly.

  “I knew ye’d spring me, Tilly-willy,” he said in a tearful voice. “But I was afraid I’d die afore you got me out o’ there.”

  “Nae, love,” Tilly gruffly replied as she hugged him. “I’d never let anything happen to ye.”

  Graeme crouched down in front of the boy. “Did someone in the orphanage hurt you, Charlie? The superintendent?”

  The child rubbed his eyes with his nubby, oversized sleeve. Sabrina made a mental note to provide both children with new clothing.

  “Not him, though he’s a scaly one. Some of the bigger boys used to give me a drubbin’ ’cause I’d stick up for—” He grimaced and swallowed any further remark.

  “Stick up for me,” Tilly finished. “’Cause of what I look like.”

  Sabrina felt her stomach tighten with anger, but Graeme simply ruffled the boy’s hair.

  “You’re a brave lad, Charlie,” he said. “Good for you.”

  Sabrina couldn’t help bristling. “Sir, that hardly seems the appropriate—”

  “So, what’s the plan?” Graeme interrupted, giving her a warning glance as he rose to his feet.

  She bit back a tart observation and took a moment to collect herself. “Perhaps Tilly and Charlie might return to Heriot Row with us? Then we could have something to eat and a chat about . . .”

  She trailed off as identical expressions of disbelief registered on the children’s faces.

  “Actually, I was asking Tilly what her plans were,” Graeme said.

  Sabrina went hot with embarrassment, but forced herself to ignore it. “They’re children, Mr. Kendrick. They need adults to help them formulate a proper plan.”

  “The adults haven’t been doing such a good job of it, so far.”

  “Aye, that,” Tilly agreed. “And I got a plan, miss, remember? Me and Charlie are goin’ to London.”

  Sabrina couldn’t help planting her hands on her hips. “And I told you that London was much too dangerous for children on their own. Especially children without any means of support.”

  “You could give us more blunt, miss,” Charlie suggested. “Tilly says you have lots.”

  “I do, but—”

  “We wouldn’t need much,” Tilly wheedled. “Just enough for the stage and to get us set up in London.”

  “And just how do you intend to support yourself?” Sabrina asked.

  When brother and sister exchanged a furtive look, she shook her head. “Absolutely not. I am not providing the means for you to fall back into your criminal ways.”

  “But it’s what I’m good at.” Tilly gave a fatalistic shrug. “I don’t know how to do anythin’ else.”

  “An’ I’m practicin’ real hard how to be a rum diver,” Charlie proudly added.

  Sabrina threw Graeme a confused glance.

  “Pickpocket,” he replied.

  When Sabrina glared at him, she got the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh.

  “Do you think you might try making a useful suggestion?” she snapped.

  “I’m waiting for yours.”

  “Very well. The children should go to school and be trained in respectable professions.”

  “As what?” Tilly pointed a finger at her face. “I ain’t exactly respectable lookin’, ’specially in a place like this.”

  She meant Edinburgh, or anywhere in Scotland, for that matter, where her mixed-race parentage counted against her. That was utterly heartbreaking, and Sabrina wished she could take in the children herself. Her father, however, would pitch an apoplectic fit.

  “I ain’t gonna lose Charlie again, if someone tries to say he ain’t my brother,” Tilly defiantly added.

  “London is a splendid idea,” Graeme said.

  Sabrina gaped at him. “Are you mad? A pair of friendless children there? They’d be eaten alive.”

  “They’re not friendless because they have us. And I can send them to Aden. He’s dealt with children in these circumstances before. Remember Tommy?”

  “Of course. He was the boy with you that morning in the park.”

  “He also came from a”—Graeme slanted a glance at Tilly—“difficult background. Aden and Vivien are very good at helping such children.”

  “Who’s this Aden bloke?” Tilly asked, suspicious.

  Graeme gave her a reassuring smile. “A good friend and a good man. He and his wife can give you shelter and help you get set up.”

  “Respectably,” Sabrina firmly said.

  “Of course.” Graeme leaned over, so he and Tilly were on eye level. “You have more options than you think, lass. You and Charlie can have a good and proper life together. Aden and Vivien can help you figure out what that might look like and keep you safe, too.”

  Tilly scrunched her mouth sideways for a few moments before glancing down the lane. “All right, but we can’t stand around here jawin’ about it. No tellin’ when Bill gets back on our trail.”

  Graeme straightened. “Splendid. We’ll figure out the arrangements later. Meanwhile, do you have someplace to hole up?”

  “We can stay with Emmy. We’ll be safe there, for now.”

  “Be off with you then. I’ll come to the Wee Black Dog in a few days and hammer out the details.”

  Leave them unprotected until then? “I cannot feel comfortable with them staying there, Mr. Kendrick. The children would be safer with us.”

  When Graeme shook his head, Sabrina wanted to whack him with her reticule.

  Tilly also shook her head. “Nae, miss. We’ll be better with Emmy. She’ll see to us.”

  “But—”

  “They’ll need some money,” Graeme said, cutting Sabrina off.

  The children looked at her with wide, expectant eyes. Silently fuming, Sabrina extracted a few guineas from her change purse.

  “Coo,” said Charlie in a reverent voice.

  “Have Emmy buy you some new clothing. You’ll need it for London.” Sabrina shot Graeme a scowl. “Of course, I could have—”

  The coins disappeared inside Tilly’s coat. “Thanks, miss, for everything.”

  She threw her arms around Sabrina’s waist and gave her a brief, fierce hug before taking her brother’s hand. They ran down the lane into a narrow close, disappearing from sight.

  Sabrina rounded on Graeme. “That was decidedly unhelpful of you
.”

  “Which part? When I saved you from Bill? Or when I got Charlie out of that bloody orphanage? Or when I’ll be making arrangements for them to go to Aden and Vivien?”

  Well, that was annoying. True, but annoying.

  “And I did not appreciate your order to remain in the parlor,” she said, switching tack. “I am not a child, Mr. Kendrick. I do not wish to be bossed like one.”

  He began leading her toward the main thoroughfare. “I was trying to protect you. That damned place was not something any gently bred young lady needed to see.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment. But I decide what I need to see, not you.”

  “Sabrina—”

  She pulled her arm from his loose grasp. “My entire existence has been sheltered and comfortable, while children like Tilly and Charlie . . .” Her throat went tight.

  Graeme took her hand and gently tucked it into the crook of his elbow. “I understand, lass. You feel helpless.”

  “Incredibly helpless,” she said with a little growl.

  “As do I, at times. But there is much you can do to help.” He glanced down at her with a lopsided smile. “You’ve got quite a pile of blunt at your disposal. Use that to make a difference.”

  “And I will, starting with that dreadful place. The superintendent is clearly not a good man.”

  “Och, I’ll be talking to Nick about the orphanage. He’ll see to it.”

  “And Old Bill? Will you take care of that?”

  “Old Bill’s criminal reign will soon be coming to an end.”

  “Painfully, one hopes.”

  He laughed. “As painful as I can make it.”

  “Splendid.”

  “For a sheltered miss from Mayfair, you’re rather bloodthirsty. It’s quite thrilling,” he teased.

  “While I am naturally delighted that you find me so entertaining, don’t think you can divert me, sir. We should not have let the children out of our sight. Until Old Bill is dealt with, they’re in danger, even with Emmy.”

  “Tilly’s as smart as they come. She wouldn’t go to Emmy if she didn’t feel secure there.”

  They stepped out into Cowgate, a wide street running through Old Town. Carriages and carts rumbled by in a continuous stream, while merchants, shoppers, and day laborers hurried about their business.

 

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