Downtime

by Tamara Allen

  He snorted. “Tell me something. You haven’t really been to the moon?”

  I laughed. “No. Not yet, anyway. It’s a little more expensive than a train ticket to Whitechapel. And speaking of Whitechapel—”

  “Have you forgotten altogether about the book?”

  Shit. I had. “No, of course not. Okay, so we’ll look for the book tomorrow and go to Whitechapel Thursday.”

  “I do hope we find that book tomorrow.”

  He didn’t say it with much conviction. I bumped his shoulder with mine. “Going to miss me?”

  A serious blue gaze settled on me, but he didn’t come up with an answer to that one before the cab lurched to a halt and I saw the familiar parlor window with the lamplight shining through the drapes. As we went in, I wondered where I’d be sleeping tonight. I was nearly ready for it too, though the idea of another nightcap with Ez in the kitchen had its appeal.

  “Will I need identification to check into a hotel tomorrow?”

  Ezra stopped on the stairs, but before he could answer, the parlor door opened, shedding warm light over us. Kathleen, grim-faced even for her, came into the foyer and put the lamp on the table. A shock went through me at the sight of her red-rimmed eyes. Ezra slipped past me to come back down the stairs.

  “Kathleen, what is it? Is someone ill?”

  “No,” she said with a quick shake of her head. “No. It’s….” She pressed her hands to her waist. “You may as well know. I’ve had to let Hannah go. If you want coal tonight, you’d best take some up with you.”

  “You fired her?” I didn’t believe my ears. She couldn’t have had a better little slave than that poor kid.

  Ezra put a hand on Kathleen’s arm. “Why? What happened?”

  Kathleen looked hesitantly at me before she answered. “She’s taken something that wasn’t hers and she has lied to me about it. I didn’t wish to discharge her, but when I could not get the truth even after catching her in a falsehood, I had no choice.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Hannah at all,” Ezra protested, more to himself than to Kathleen.

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  At my assertion, Kathleen looked at me as if she were convinced Hannah’s sudden delinquency was due entirely to me. I might have thought that too, but as wayward as I sometimes was, I didn’t believe I’d lured Hannah into becoming a hoodlum in just a couple of days.

  “What did she take?” The moment the words left my lips, I remembered the music box. Maybe this was my fault. “Was it a music box about so big?” I held my hands about six inches apart. “With two dancers twirling around to the music?”

  Kathleen’s dark brows drew together. “How do you know that?”

  “I gave it to her. I just wanted to get her a little going-away present.”

  “I don’t understand. You bought her a gift? But she refused to tell me—”

  “Of course she did. She knew I was already in trouble with you. She probably thought telling you would get me into more trouble.”

  Kathleen’s expression blossomed into all-out bewilderment. “You don’t know the girl. You aren’t her father and you aren’t….” An uneasy light came into her eyes. “You aren’t anything to her.”

  “I’d like to think she thinks of me as a friend. I know I think of her that way. She’s made all this a little easier to take, this being dragged out of my own life and into yours. I wanted her to have something in that forsaken little hole in the wall where she sleeps, something to send her off into sweet dreams after lugging coal and sweeping floors from sun-up to sunset. Jeez, you guys. She’s just a kid. Maybe she has to work, but she doesn’t have to exist in drab misery just because you’ve got some outdated notion that servants don’t have any real feelings to be concerned about.”

  Ezra’s fingers wrapped gently around my wrist and I looked at him, expecting reproval and seeing only sympathy, for both me and Kathleen. “We’ll sort this out. Kathleen, if you will allow me to talk to Hannah—”

  “No. I will talk to her. Mr. Nash is correct. I am strict with Hannah, but she has always been a thoughtful and dutiful girl. That was the shock of it.” She exhaled a weary breath, her face drawn with regret. “I should have not been so quick to think the worst.” She went without further discussion, leaving the lamp behind for us.

  Ezra let go of my wrist and patted my shoulder. “You’ll have to stay with me, as Henry’s likely already asleep.”

  I had no objection. But we were hardly halfway to the landing when Kathleen reappeared, white and distraught. “She’s gone. I told her to wait but—she’s left.”

  Ezra ran up the stairs without a word and I knew he’d gone to check for Hannah in the rooms. Kathleen grabbed the banister for support and looked at me, heartsick. “I told her Derry would take her home in the morning and that she must wait. Why would she go? Saints, it’s nearly midnight and in that neighborhood—” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh dear, no. God protect her.” Kathleen’s more subdued brogue asserted itself in her anguish. “Oh, Mr. Nash, what have I done—what have I done? How will she get home when he’s out there?”

  I took Kathleen by the arm and led her into the parlor, scooping up the lamp along the way. The woman who had seemed so damned indomitable up until now sank into a chair and lowered her head into her hands.

  “Come on, Kath. I need you to stay focused, all right? Does Ezra know where she lives? Give me an address and a general idea of the neighborhood.”

  Kathleen gathered herself together and in a faint but steady voice gave me all the information she knew. I headed upstairs for my gun and met Ezra coming down. “No luck?”

  “None. I take it you intend to find her?”

  “Yeah. You coming with me?”

  “I will wake Derry,” Kathleen said, moving to the stairs.

  Ezra stopped her. “Let him sleep. Morgan and I will bring Hannah back.” He slipped his hand into hers and I saw him give it a squeeze. Kathleen trusted Ezra, I knew, in a way she trusted few others. She let us go and I had the feeling she would be pacing the parlor until we got back. Maybe mothering didn’t come naturally to her, but she cared more about Hannah than she’d let on. I just hoped Hannah got the chance to know it.

  Chapter 11

  It wasn’t Whitechapel where we ended up but, according to Ezra, not far from it. As grim and soot-blackened as the streets were, I had a feeling I wasn’t seeing the worst this London had to offer. The street Hannah called home stood quiet—and not reassuringly lit, except for the pub on the corner. All that remained of what I suspected was a busy market street in the daytime was a lot of rotting vegetables, mud, and horseshit combining in a foul-smelling mixture in the gutters. Assessing faces peered from murky windows and dark doorways as we moved at a fast walk toward Windsor Place. The only protection Ezra carried was a walking stick, and I was glad I’d brought my gun.

  The address Kathleen had given us led to a house in the middle of a row of houses, grimy and bleak to a one. I hated to think of Hannah or any kid in such a dump. I gave the street another once-over, more force of habit than out of real need, as there wasn’t another soul in sight. Ezra’s knock brought a man who couldn’t have been more than thirty to the door, but I doubted he was Hannah’s big brother. He had Hannah’s copper hair and blue eyes, but he didn’t flash the same shy smile; more of a sullen frown at the interruption. He rubbed a soot-streaked hand over the fuzz of a pale beard and plucked the stub of a cigar from his mouth. “What do you want?”

  Before Ez could start up with niceties, I decided to be as direct as Mr. Jolley. “Hannah. Is she here?”

  The blue gaze narrowed. “Why?”

  “We’ve come on behalf of her employer, Miss Neilan,” Ezra said, with a pluck at my sleeve. “There’s been a misunderstanding. We’ve come to ask Hannah to return to Farbridge, if you will allow it.”

  “And if she wants to,” I added, hoping someone intended to let the kid have a say.

  One corner of Mr. Jolley’s mouth
twitched slyly upward. “You want her back, eh?”

  “You mistake us, sir,” Ezra said sternly. “There are no improprieties in Miss Neilan’s house where maidservants are concerned. We are only attempting to do right by the girl. Miss Neilan would like her to come back and she’s asked that we might bring her.”

  “‘Course she did.” Mr. Jolley leaned a shoulder casually against the door. “Wouldn’t see her coming around this ken on her own. What’d she do, blow up at the baggage and sack her, only to figure she’s better off with her than no help at all?”

  “You are Hannah’s father?” I just wanted to be sure before I socked the guy.

  “That’s right. And if you want her, you’ll make it worth my trouble.”

  I was ready to make it worth my own trouble. Only Ezra’s grip on my sleeve held me back. “Where is she?”

  Mr. Jolley jerked his head to crumbling steps that went down to the left behind us. I freed myself from Ezra and went down to knock. After a minute, Hannah opened the door and blinked at me in surprise. An angry bruise discolored her cheek, under a black eye. I turned to the son of a bitch who had given it to her. “What the hell are you doing, beating on a kid?”

  He looked over the rusty rail at her. “If she gets herself sacked for lying, it’s my job to set her straight, ain’t it? She won’t be lying again, will you, girl?”

  Hannah promptly shook her head and, with a warning glance at me, started to close the door. I caught it and held it against her desperate pushes. “Wait a minute, Hannah. It’s all right. You’re not in any trouble. Kathleen wants you to come back. We all do.” I saw doubt flicker in her gaze and I hunched down so that we were more eye to eye. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble with Kathleen and your dad, honey. It didn’t occur to me you might not want to tell Kathleen where you’d gotten the music box. Think you can give me a chance to make it up to you?”

  If my words confused her, my tone didn’t. Her face softened, more with relief than anything else. “You come for me?”

  “Yeah. Ezra and I did. Just for you. Want to come back with us?”

  She looked at her dad, who’d gotten a good idea just how much we wanted her back, judging by the astute eye he fixed on Ezra. “My girl’s only just come home. You want to take her off, you’ll give me something in return, like I said.”

  Ezra stared at him. “Are you attempting to sell us your daughter, sir?”

  “A shilling a week out of her pay ain’t enough to keep her poor old grandmother in vegetables when no one’s buying.” Mr. Jolley came down the steps and wrapped an arm over Hannah’s shoulders. “If Miss Neilan paid her proper so she could do right by them that’s brought her up, I’d have no call to ask a pittance of you, would I?”

  Ezra seemed to know with unerring instinct when to latch firm fingers on my wrist. “Mr. Jolley, I think you would be better served returning to the situation you just left, instead of depending on your daughter to provide for you. Hannah, will you come with us?”

  Mr. Jolley pushed Hannah behind him and thrust his scowling face in Ezra’s. “The girl didn’t know that. How the devil do you?”

  “Hannah’s mother was good enough to mention it.”

  “Her mother’s dead,” he retorted, jabbing a finger against Ezra’s chest.

  “Yes,” Ezra said mildly, “but keeping an eye on you, nevertheless. Hannah?”

  She seemed to be holding her breath. At Ezra’s question, she exhaled and without looking at her father, answered, “Yes, sir, please.”

  “Good enough. Mr. Jolley?”

  Mr. Jolley put a hand on the back of Hannah’s neck and gave her a push toward the door. “Inside, girl. You’re not going until these gents settle it to my satisfaction.”

  I’d had enough. “Hannah, you want your job back, you’ve got it. Run inside and get your things. It’s late and Kathleen’s worried about you.”

  “You’re not taking Hannah without my leave.”

  “I’m taking Hannah out of this house for her own safety.” Pulling out my wallet, I let him get a good look at my badge. “Your admission of abuse is enough to prove maltreatment and justify removing Hannah until such time you’re deemed fit to care for her.”

  Ezra looked at me, intrigued. “What are you doing?”

  “Instituting Child Protective Services a little early. God knows your century could use it.”

  Mr. Jolley clearly had even less idea of what was going on. Shaking off a dazed expression, he settled back into his comfortable scowl. “You won’t be taking her without giving me something in return,” he said, and grabbed my arm. I shook off his hand and brought a fist around to connect soundly with his cheekbone. He fell backward onto a wooden cart parked in the corner and went tumbling to the ground, the cart overturning on top of him. I gave my smarting hand a shake and waited to see if he was going to get up. He cradled his face in his palm and stared at me with furious eyes. “Who gave you the right? Bloody bastard.”

  I wished I could haul him in and lock him up for a few nights. “Just think of it as something in return.”

  Collecting Hannah’s things, we left her father sitting on his front steps, moaning over a rapidly discoloring cheek and throwing the occasional curse after us. We made it back home by two, to find Derry and Henry up and waiting for us. Kathleen hadn’t wakened them, but Derry, with whatever sixth sense roused him out of bed to look after Ezra, had gotten everyone up and ready to come hunting for us if we weren’t home by three. As we came in on a cold gust of wind, we were welcomed by relieved faces; but their smiles faded at the sight of Hannah’s bruised cheek and black eye.

  As Dr. Gilbride sat her on the parlor sofa and turned up the gas to examine her, Ezra related how I’d taken it upon myself to remove Hannah from her father’s house. No one said a word against Mr. Jolley in Hannah’s presence, but I could see approval in their eyes. The moment Dr. Gilbride had pronounced Hannah not too much worse for wear, Kathleen had an arm around the kid and was taking her upstairs. I had a feeling Hannah wouldn’t be sleeping in the back of the kitchen again, at least until the closet was turned into something resembling a real bedroom.

  Derry, on his way back to bed, wordlessly rewarded me with a hug that threatened to crack a few ribs. Henry reluctantly asked if I would bunk with him, and I just as reluctantly agreed. But uninterrupted sleep was still not in the cards for me. I woke to a world that was deep in slumber and, half-awake, twisted to get a look at the time before remembering my alarm clock was a hundred years out of reach.

  “Welcome to the century of a million minor inconveniences,” I muttered, resigned that I would not get a full night’s sleep until I was back home. Cringing as I pushed off the blankets, I headed for the toilet in just the nightshirt, not caring whom I ran into along the way. No one showed up to thwart my goal of getting back to a warm bed as soon as possible, but as I passed the stair landing, I couldn’t help wondering if Ezra had ever gone up.

  His room was dark, but enough blue-tinged moonlight filtered in to direct my attention to a blanket-shrouded lump huddled against the wall. Concerned, I bent over him and peeled back the blanket. He’d fallen asleep the hard way, but he’d done it. I brushed a hand over the tangle of brown hair. “Ezra?”

  Eyes still shut, he grimaced. I noticed he’d gotten himself into a nightshirt at least, sparing his tux, but not doing much to keep him warm under a single blanket.

  I slipped an arm under his and pulled. He resisted and grumbled, “What the devil are you doing?”

  “Giving Derry a night off.”

  “I don’t require a governess, thank you. Let me sleep.”

  “Fine, sleep all you want. Just do it in bed, okay?”

  Some part of his mind must have realized I wouldn’t let him alone until I’d put him to bed. He allowed me to steer him across the room and onto the mattress. As I dragged the pile of blankets over him, he wrapped a hand around my wrist. “If you want to stay….” He yawned. “You may.”

  I swallowed a laugh
. If he was asking for a little help keeping the boogeyman away, it seemed a reasonable request. I wouldn’t be around long enough for him to become too dependent on my particular corporeal form to scare off the incorporeal. I climbed in next to him, just glad to be warm and horizontal again. He looked at me through half-closed eyes and smiled. “Good fellow. I will do my best to not crowd you this time.”

  “Yeah, that sort of thing can get you into trouble.” I elaborated with a wicked grin before rolling over to go to sleep.

  We snoozed past breakfast and straight through to lunch. My stomach told me so before I’d ever opened my eyes to see the sunlight slanting through the curtains. Ezra had more or less managed to keep his promise. He was still on his side of the bed, but he’d pushed off the covers and the thin nightshirt had gotten twisted around the lean length of him in such a way that, if we had already been intimate, I’d have had him wide awake in a matter of seconds and hotter than if he’d kept the covers on. As things stood, he was still a temptation I had to bring a whole new level of resistance to. I wanted to glide my hand along his thigh, where the sunlight turned small brown hairs golden, and ease the nightshirt off so I could see every inch of him in that same light. I wanted to roll on top of him and wake him with slow kisses and feel his arms come around me to pull me down hard against him. I wanted to….