The Sweetest Touch

by Marie Higgins

  But how could he not? Since bringing her into his home, he couldn’t get her off his mind. And ever since he realized he loved her, all he wanted to do was hold her and talk about their future. He really didn’t care about her past. Not anymore. She had been a thief, but he knew it wasn’t by choice. A person like Louisa would have been forced to live in such a vile way to survive. Circumstances in her life had led her down the wrong pathway to a man like Macgregor. A man Trevor would like to meet face-to-face just so he could give the beast the beating he deserved for whipping Louisa like he’d done.

  From the corner of his eyes, a lad—perhaps in his twelfth year or so—stood against a tree, trying his hardest not to act like he watched Trevor closely. Because of what happened with David, Trevor knew to be wary of pickpockets. And this boy was too suspicious.

  Trevor slowed as he walked by the boy, almost hoping the vagabond would try to steal. As Trevor passed, he was almost disappointed when the lad didn’t even try.

  But when shuffling footsteps snuck behind him, Trevor wanted to grin. He’d teach this vagabond a lesson.

  Just as the footsteps quickened and the boy brushed by him, Trevor snatched the boy’s arm, stopping his hand as it began its descent into Trevor’s pocket.

  He glared into the vagabond’s wide eyes. “I would not attempt that if I were you.”

  Color left the boy’s dirty face quickly and he struggled to pull away. “Please, m’lord. Don’t turn me in. I’m hungry, is all. I need money for food.”

  Trevor’s heart twisted upon hearing the lad’s plea, and he couldn’t help but imagine Louisa when she was younger and doing this. The day he’d hit her with his vehicle, she’d look so much like this boy—ratted hair, tattered overcoat, fingerless gloves. “Where are your parents?”

  “I…don’t have any, m’lord.”

  “Who do you work for?”

  “Pardon me?” Confusion creased the boy’s forehead and narrowed eyes.

  “Do you work for Macgregor?” Trevor demanded, not wanting to play any more games. The vagabond’s face lost even more color—if that were possible—and Trevor knew he’d received his answer. “I will let you go on one condition.”

  The lad gulped and nodded slowly. “What is that?”

  “You tell me where I can find Macgregor.”

  “Oh, no…no, m’lord. I cannot do that. If he ever found out—” Tears welled in his eyes. “I’d rather go to the gaol, m’lord.”

  Once again, Trevor’s heart twisted for this frightened child. No wonder Louisa was such an emotional mess now. Macgregor was torturing poor, defenseless children, and someone needed to stop the man. Trevor was determined to be that person.

  “If you will just tell me where Macgregor is, I will see to it that he never hurts you again.”

  The lad shook his head. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s smart, and he’s dangerous.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that. I know a woman who used to work for him. By chance, do you remember Louisa?”

  The boy’s eyes darted around, as if looking for someone. Trevor also scanned the area, wondering if another vagabond might be lurking about. When he didn’t see anyone, he looked back at the boy whose eyes were wider than before.

  “Aye, I know Louisa.”

  Trevor’s heartbeat picked up a notch. Kneeling in front of the boy, he grasped both—very thin—shoulders. “Please tell me what you know about her. She’s lost some of her memory, and I’m trying to help her get it back. Any information you have will be helpful.”

  “Well…I don’t know…”

  “I shall give you some food,” Trevor added quickly then nodded toward his landau. “I will take you wherever you want to go. Please help me. Help Louisa.”

  He couldn’t believe he’d been reduced to begging, but right now he didn’t enjoy feeling helpless when it came to that special woman.

  “Aye, I can tell you a little.”

  Trevor jumped to his feet and escorted the boy toward the landau. His footman opened the door. Trevor instructed his driver to take them posthaste to the bakery. After Trevor and the boy climbed inside, the footman closed the door.

  “What is your name?” Trevor asked.

  “Norman Boyd, m’lord.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m in my thirteenth year.”

  Trevor’s stomach lurched. What happened in this young boy’s life to make him want to work for a man like Macgregor? “How long have you been stealing?”

  “For three years now.”

  “You say you don’t have parents. Did they die?”

  Nodding, the boy’s gaze dropped to his lap as he twisted his fingers. “Aye. In a house fire.”

  “Why are you not in an orphanage or living with relatives?”

  “No relatives, and the orphanage didn’t want me, m’lord.”

  How odd. “Please explain. How could the orphanage not want you?”

  Norman looked up, frowning. “The man who had come to take me out of school after my parents died, told me that.”

  “Was Macgregor this man?”

  “No. But after a few days, the man who took care of me, sold me to Macgregor.”

  “Sold you?”

  “Aye.”

  How utterly ridiculous. But then, Trevor didn’t know the ways of this class of people. “Tell me all you can about Louisa?”

  Just as Norman opened his mouth, the vehicle stopped. Trevor glanced out the window and noticed they were in front of a bakery. Once the footman opened the door, Trevor jumped down with the boy and walked into the shop. He purchased whatever the lad wanted—which was quite a bit. Trevor smiled, remembering when Louisa ate so heartily…as if she hadn’t eaten for months. His heart twisted again, and with it came anger. Macgregor needed to be stopped immediately.

  After they climbed back in the landau, the boy stuffed his face with pastries. If Norman had any manners before, he definitely didn’t have them now. Although Trevor didn’t want the lad to speak with his mouth full of food, Trevor wanted to know what Norman knew about Louisa.

  “Will you now tell me how you know Louisa?”

  “Aye,” he garbled and wiped the cuff of his sleeve across his mouth. “She worked for Macgregor. She was his best.”

  “Why? Because she could steal more?”

  “That, and because she was so quick, none of her victims knew she was stealing from them.”

  Trevor nodded. “Continue.”

  “Macgregor favored Louisa because she taught the rest of us how to steal. And, I think he liked her because she was pretty.”

  Trevor gnashed his teeth. He prayed that man hadn’t touched her in an improper manner. The mere idea had bile rising to his throat. “Do you know anything about her past? How she came to be with Macgregor?”

  Norman shook his head. “All I knows is her family died, too.”

  Trevor’s heart dropped. “All of them?”

  “Aye. And the man who got her from her boarding school sold her to Macgregor.”

  Curiosity niggled its way into Trevor’s mind. Louisa’s story sounded very similar to Norman’s. “Do you know if she knew this man?”

  Norman shrugged. “A few times I heard her mention he was her friend’s uncle.”

  “Did she say his name?”

  “Not that I heard.”

  Trevor leaned closer. “What about the man who sold you to Macgregor? What was his name?”

  “Percy Featherspoon,” Norman said before taking a big bite from a pastry.

  The name didn’t sound familiar, but at least Trevor could have the man investigated. “Where did you live with Mr. Featherspoon?”

  “In Scotland.”

  “Very interesting.” Trevor scratched his chin. “Can you tell me anymore about Louisa? When she used to work for Macgregor?”

  “I don’t know. Macgregor’s children don’t talk very much. We see each other in the morning before we leave to work the streets, and we return late at night, very tired.” />
  “Think, Norman. Tell me anything that might help Louisa get her memory back.”

  The lad was quiet for a few moments as he munched on his food. Finally, he lifted his wide eyes to Trevor.

  “I remember Macgregor was having her do bad things.”

  Trevor’s chest tightened, not knowing if he really wanted to hear this. “What…sort of things?”

  “Louisa was one of the oldest, and Macgregor trained the older ones to do more than just steal.”

  “Go on.”

  Norman shrugged. “He wanted Louisa to find more children and bring them to him.”

  Trevor lost his breath…either that or his heart had stopped beating. “Are you talking about kidnapping?”

  “Aye—kidnapping.”

  “How…how did Louisa do this?”

  “I don’t know, m’lord. I just know that she would be gone for a few days and when she returned, she had a new child with her. Macgregor was very happy with her work. He said Louisa was very good with children.”

  A quick shaft of fear entered Trevor. Would Louisa take his twins away? No, he reasoned, they were too young. If his chest continued to tighten, he would not be able to endure the pain. He swallowed, moistening his suddenly dry throat. “What else did she do for Macgregor?”

  Norman finished the last bite and wiped his mouth on his sleeve again. “Well…there was this other thing, but I don’t know if it really happened.”

  By the way the lad cringed and hung his head, Trevor could tell it wasn’t good. Did he really want to know? What could be worse than kidnapping children for Macgregor’s torture pleasure? But even if he wished he hadn’t started this conversation, he still opened his mouth and asked, “What is it?”

  “I’d heard…” He heaved a deep breath. “I heard she killed someone for Macgregor. One day he was upset when Thomas didn’t bring any profits for the day. Thomas wasn’t very good at stealing. Anyway, Macgregor made Louisa take Thomas away…and kill him.”

  Oh Lord, no! Trevor’s stomach lurched, and he feared he’d empty it right on his lap.

  “She returned the next day and said she took care of it for Macgregor.” Norman shrugged. “We all suspected she had killed Thomas.”

  “Did she actually say she killed the boy?”

  “No, just that she took care of him for Macgregor.”

  Tilting his head back against the wall, Trevor inhaled deep breaths, trying to clear his mind and calm his stomach. This couldn’t be right. The woman he’d known since running her over with his landau, was not capable of murder. She wasn’t even capable of kidnapping children. She’d been the one who watched the twins so carefully when they were with Mrs. Jacobs. Louisa had been nothing but attentive and loving to Adam and Amanda.

  Yet…was this how she was able to coax the other children away from their families and bring them to Macgregor?

  Pain throbbed in his head, making his confusion greater. His heart told him not to believe…but there was that niggle of doubt knocking inside his subconscious that wouldn’t leave. He wanted to believe the best of her because he loved her. The woman he’d come to know could not possibly have done all those terrible things. Because her past was still unknown, perhaps she could have done these horrid acts in able to survive Macgregor.

  “M’lord? Can I leave now?”

  Trevor looked back at the lad. “Leave? Do you really want to return to Macgregor and a life of thieving?”

  “Where else would I go? I have no home. No family.”

  “But what if Macgregor and this Featherspoon fellow have lied to you all this time? What if your family is alive and wondering where you have been these past three years?”

  Tears filled the boy’s eyes and his bottom lip quivered. “I would love to believe that, m’lord. But I don’t dare.”

  “Who were your parents?”

  “My father was Baron Grisham.”

  Trevor nodded. “Do you remember where you lived?”

  “Aye.” Norman’s face brightened. “I know it’s quite a way’s away, but will you take me there?”

  “Yes, I will. I want to know if you were kidnapped or if your parents had indeed died.”

  Color bloomed on Norman’s cheeks and excitement danced in his brown eyes as he explained where he had lived. Trevor leaned over and opened the door to instruct the driver where to go. Although it was several hours away, the ride would be worth it.

  The first part of the drive, the boy chattered like a bird, talking about his home and family. At times Trevor wished the boy would stop, but then realized this kept him from thinking about Louisa…from thinking the worst in her.

  Finally, an hour later, Norman fell asleep. Exhaustion settled over Trevor, but he refused to close his eyes. Picturing Louisa as a vagabond and doing what Norman had told him she had done, were not good images to have.

  What worried him more than anything was having her regain her memory, only to discover she had been a bad person—that she had done all the things Norman told him about. Could Trevor still allow her to be in his home, caring for his children knowing she had done this? And, could he still love her and want her for his wife?

  He must find Percy Featherspoon and get more answers.

  When the vehicle slowed, Trevor peered out the window. Night had fallen over them, but up ahead stood a home all lit up. The half moon helped to guide them as well.

  “Norman,” he said, reaching over and shaking the lad. “Wake up. I think we have arrived.”

  The boy stretched and yawned, then blinked with sleepy eyes. He scanned the inside of the landau as confusion crossed his features. When he met Trevor’s gaze, it only took a moment before recognition struck and Norman smiled.

  “Are we home?”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  The boy scrambled to the window and pressed his nose against the glass. When the house came into view, Norman gasped. Shaking his head, he pulled back and looked at Trevor with teary eyes.

  “That cannot be right. I was told the house burned down—that my family was in the house.”

  “Is that your home?” Trevor asked.

  “Aye.”

  Hope budded in Trevor’s chest, and he prayed he would be able to reunite the boy with his family.

  When the vehicle stopped, Trevor and Norman climbed out. Trevor walked ahead of the lad, but with the boy’s hurried steps, Trevor had to quicken his step. He stopped in front of the front door and pulled the bell.

  Norman sniffed and wiped his moist eyes. “I don’t understand, m’lord.”

  “We shall discover what really happened, I assure you.”

  The door opened and Trevor greeted the butler. “Pardon me for calling at such a late hour. I’m the Duke of Kensington, and I need to speak with Baron Grisham, if you please.”

  The butler bowed. “Good evening, Your Grace. What can I tell the baron is your purpose here?”

  “He’s alive?” Norman’s voice rose and he pushed past Trevor and stood in front of the butler. “Is my father alive?”

  Disgust painted the servant’s face as he gazed down at the lad. “I beg your pardon—”

  “Tillis, it’s me. Norman.”

  The butler gasped. His mouth dropped open as he clutched the boy’s shoulders to look at his face closer. “Oh my… It is you.”

  Trevor blew out a grateful breath, relieved his instincts had been correct. His heart lightened as Norman hugged the butler, than ran into the house calling for his parents. Happy and surprised shrieks came from the family as they gathered around Norman, crying and holding the boy.

  Smiling, Trevor was glad he was able to find the boy’s family. But would he ever find Louisa’s? And if he could, would he discover he’d been wrong to assume she’d been the terrible person Norman had told him about?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Louisa awoke early in the morning with a stretch and a yawn. She hadn’t slept well last night, mainly because Trevor had been gone all day and she feared the worst. The mor
e she remembered about her past—and told him about it—the more he withdrew.

  Then again, she’d been withdrawing just as much. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that he’d marry her and they would live happily-ever-after as in some fairytales she’d read to the children. She’d done too much in her past; made too many mistakes, and Trevor had every right to throw her out of his home and never see her again.

  Rubbing tired eyes, she climbed out of bed. She doubted the twins would be up this early, but she still needed to get herself ready for the day.

  Although she loved those children dearly, they deserved better than her as their nursemaid. They deserved a woman who hadn’t stolen from wealthy people—and turned around and taught other children to do the same. They deserved better than a nursemaid who was seriously contemplating stealing their grandmother’s jewels.

  Dejected, Louisa slugged on weary legs to the water basin and splashed water on her face, hoping it would bring her mind awake so she could think of a way out of this turmoil. But by the time she finished dressing, she hadn’t thought of anything that would help her dire situation.

  With a heavy heart, she knew there was only one choice to make. She must force her memory to return. If she could do that, perhaps she’d know where to go when she left Trevor and the twins. Tears pricked her eyes and a lump formed in her throat. She didn’t want to leave, and thinking about that day was almost unbearable, but she could not have Macgregor torturing them, either. When that man made a promise of punishment, he always followed through.

  She hurried out of her room and checked on the twins who were still asleep. It wasn’t healthy to stand beside their beds, watching them this way, because the pain in her heart grew and she wanted to cry and hold them tight. She’d do neither.

  Quietly, Louisa left their room and searched through the house until she found Mrs. Smythe. The housekeeper was in the kitchen talking with some of the staff. When the older woman saw Louisa, she smiled.

  “Good morning, Louisa. I have been hearing good things about you lately.”

  Although Louisa didn’t want to know—or care—happiness still lifted her heart, if only slightly. “I’m pleased to hear such a compliment.” She swallowed and stepped closer. “Mrs. Smythe, could I have a word with you? In private?”