“What’s your pleasure, Jack?”
He stepped back as if struck, all his father’s crimes now coming to bear.“Please, no.”
“Sir?” She stretched out before him, and smiled a woman’s smile, expecting him to use her.
He closed his eyes and prayed. With all his heart he prayed, for no longer were his father’s victims faceless and empty. The foul taste of gin rose in his throat and he swallowed.
His father would have taken the young girl, used her mightily until her screams echoed louder than the drunken cries from below. His father would have slit her meager throat with a merciless knife, and then laughed while her blood ran over his hands.
He heard the rasping voice of the old earl.
Blood will tell.
“Sir?” She sat up, rose on her knees, and reached for him.
He put his hands in front of him, keeping her away. “I’m not him. Can’t you see?”
“Sir?”
He blinked.
It was the voice of a child. A child that needed his help. He shook his head and quickly drew off his coat, throwing it over the girl’s naked body.
Her small hands tugged at the lapels, the garment enveloping her. She looked up at him with blue, blue eyes, and he took a step back, expecting fear, but there was none. There was no life at all.
“I want to help you. What’s your name?” he asked.
“Nancy. You’re not wanting a bite?”
“No,” he said quickly.
“What ye after, then?”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
She studied him for a moment. “Everyone wants something.”
“That’s a very harsh belief for someone so young.”
“I’m no fool.” She spat out the words as if she were angry at herself.
“How old are you, Nancy?”
“Thirteen, I’ll be fourteen in November.” She stood and began to dress and he turned his head. “If you’ll not be needling, I must go downstairs.”
He gestured for her to sit down. “No. Everything’s been arranged. Do you live here?”
“Yes.”
“And your family?”
She shrugged, the insignificant gesture of someone who had stopped caring long ago, and he was saddened by her loss.
“How long have you been here?”
“A year. It’s not a bad place. I have me own bed, the food is passable and most nights Mr. Hardiston ain’t too stingy with the coal.” A scurrying noise came from the corner and she grinned. “Harvey keeps me company.”
“You have a pet?”
“Hardly.” She laughed. “He’s a rat.”
“Where did you live before?”
“Ackworth.”
Good God.“Ackworth? The foundling home?” Surely he had misunderstood.
“Yes.”
How had she found herself here? “Did you run away?”
“No, the master sold me off to Mr. Hardiston as soon as I passed twelve.” Thoughtfully, she nibbled her lip. “Could you take me back?”
Colin sank down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. An orphange selling children? It was more than possible, but not something that Colin could stomach. The mines, chimneys, prostitution, all were clamoring for young workers. Colin made up his mind quickly. “I’m not returning you there.”
“I had friends at Ackworth.”
“We’ll take care of your friends.” He would arrange to have them transported to St. George tomorrow. And then he would visit the headmaster himself. He didn’t know the man, but perhaps Mr. Twizzlerot knew of him. “Are there many children there?”
“Yes. There was one . . . Ethan. But you mustn’t tell him about . . . this.”
“I give you my word.”
“Gor, your word! A fat lot of good that’s worth. My mother gave me her word I’d have a pony for my eighth birthday. My father gave me his word he’d never leave.” She plucked at the bedcovers. “Mr. Hardiston gave me his word that it wouldn’t hurt a bit.”
Colin smiled tightly. Mr. Hardiston was going to pay. “Nancy, I give you the word of a DragonSlayer.”
She looked at him curiously, her blond hair falling in her eyes. “What’s that?”
“A long time ago, there lived a knight that was strong and noble and brave. In another country there was a dragon that demanded the sacrifice of a young maiden every spring. Each year, a maiden came forward and then was devoured by the dragon. The knight heard rumors of the dragon and came to help the people. When he met the maiden who was to be sacrificed, he fell in love. He was determined that she would live and so he went to slay the dragon. They fought a terrible battle for some time, but finally, he thrust his sword into the dragon’s heart, and killed the creature.”
“And did the DragonSlayer marry the princess?”
“Of course.” The child knew how her fairy tales ended, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. In Colin’s book, the DragonSlayer had died alongside the dragon. He laid out a hand. “I give you the word of a DragonSlayer.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re no better than the rest. There ain’t no such things as dragons.”
He sat back, surprised that such a grown-up child could still be so innocent. “Of course there are. They may not breathe fire, or have wings that cut through the air, but they still live.”
“I’ve never seen one.” She nodded her head wisely. “I’d remember.”
“Wyverns or hydras? They’ve long died out. But dragons walk the land. Every day, every night.” The noise from belowstairs drifted in the air. “Especially at night.”
She hugged herself. “You really believe all that?”
“I’ve seen the dragons, Nancy. Haven’t you?”
She plucked at the ragged bedcovers, then nodded.
“You’ll accept my word?”
She nodded again.
He stood and gathered his coat. “Let’s leave this place.”
“Where’re you taking me, sir?”
“Home.”
Chapter Twelve
In the end he had no choice. He took her to Sarah’s. If Iris wondered about the propriety of his arriving late at night with a child in tow, she contained her consternation well. Although he did notice she made no effort to curtsy.
“Well, this is certainly not what I expected. You keep surprising me,” Sarah said as she entered the room. She held out her hand to the child and smiled. “Hello, my name is Sarah.”
Nancy hid behind Colin and Sarah raised an eyebrow at the gesture.
“I’m not going nowhere with her.” Nancy nodded in Sarah’s direction. “You said I was to stay with you.”
“If that’s what you wish.” He wondered how to deal with this new development, realizing his household was no place for a child.
“Colin, is she a relation of yours?” Sarah studied Nancy, searching for a resemblance, while the young girl tilted her chin and glared daggers at Sarah.
He heard the unspoken question in Sarah’s words and hurried to reassure her. “No, a friend. I remembered what you said about wanting to hire a girl to help in your kitchen.” He stared intently at her, hoping she would understand his meaning.
And of course she did. “Oh! Yes, yes, I see. And you thought Nancy would fit the bill, is that right?” She looked at the girl and then tested the muscles in Nancy’s arm. Slowly she shook her head, and leaned back on her heels. “I don’t know, my lord. She seems so small. I wager she couldn’t lift more than two plates at a time.”
“Two?” It would not do to smile, so he scowled instead. “What are you saying? Nancy, surely she’s wrong. I think we should take that wager, what say you?”
Nancy dismissed Sarah with a haughty toss of her head. “Of course I can lift more than two plates. What do you take me for? Nothing more than a babe? I’m nearly fourteen, you know.”
“Oh.” Sarah stepped back. “Perhaps I should reconsider.”
“No, we won’t have that, will we?” Coli
n replied easily, quite enjoying himself. “A wager is a wager. Nancy, should we let her wangle free?” He left the choice to the girl.
Nancy shifted her gaze from Colin to Sarah.
“What’s it to be, her or me?” Colin asked.
That made up her mind easily enough. “I choose you.”
Sarah raised her brow. “Wise girl,” she murmured under her breath.
Nancy tugged at his arm, and Colin bent low. “What are we going to take her for?” Nancy whispered.
Colin thought for only a moment. “A pony.”
“Gor! A pony!” Nancy tilted her head in Sarah’s direction. “You have horses, miss?”
Sarah sighed heavily and waved a languid hand. “Yes, and they are so difficult to maintain. All the feeding, watering, grooming, and then,” she put a hand on Nancy’s arm, “after all that, you must ride them.”
“Oh, that sounds miserable.” Nancy’s voice held nothing but awe.
“It is. The very worst.” Sarah took a deep breath and rubbed her hands together, watching Colin with a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “And if I win, what shall I collect?”
Nancy looked at Colin, nibbling her lip. “I don’t have nothing to offer up,” she said in a low voice.
“Yes, you do.” He winked at her. “Harvey.”
“Harvey? Oh, no . . .” Then her eyes grew wide with realization and she giggled. “Very cheeky, sir.”
Sarah eyed the two of them, tapping her foot, looking the very picture of a harsh headmistress. A very appealing headmistress, of course, which somewhat spoiled the whole effect for him. “Harvey?” she queried.
Nancy squared her shoulders and looked Sarah straight in the eye. “My pet.”
“A very fine pet,” Colin added, earning an angelic smile from Nancy.
And that was how the wager came about.
Nancy carried ten plates after much discussion over the necessary distance that would qualify. She pleaded to attempt thirteen, but Iris intervened saying Miss Nancy had won the bet square on, and Miss Sarah needed to own up to her losses.
Quite pleased at her victory, Nancy was ready to claim her prize that evening, but Sarah feigned exhaustion, and promised that at first light she would let Nancy choose her pony herself.
Satisfied that Nancy would be well taken care of, Colin donned his coat. The child sidled next to him, worry in her eyes. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, just for the night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“What’s she going to want from me?”
He realized that soothing the girl’s heart was going to require more than a pony and he sighed. “I’d imagine you’ll wash some dishes and if she’s feeling quite fatigued, she’ll probably make you ride her horses for her.”
Her eyes filled her face. “Gor! Does she get fatigued very often?”
“All the time.”
Nancy gazed at Sarah in awe. “Gor!”
“Everything’s going to be all right now.” He whispered the words, but she heard them just the same.
“She’s not going to hurt me?”
“No one’s going to hurt you, Nancy. I give you my word.”
“The word of a DragonSlayer?” Slowly she held out her hand.
“Aye, the word of a DragonSlayer.” He lay his own on top of hers. “Now, go with Iris, and don’t let her scare you when she curtsies.”
The girl threw herself in his arms and hugged him tightly. He tensed for a moment, unsure of what to do. Finally, he patted her slowly on the back and rested his head on her dirty blond hair. For the first time in his life, he knew the softness of a child’s skin, the extraordinary piece of innocence that still stubbornly clung to the small body, and he smiled.
Nancy kissed his cheek and then followed Iris upstairs, leaving Colin alone with Sarah.
“She’s a saucy young girl,” Sarah murmured, breaking the silence.
“Yes.”
“Is she an orphan?”
“Yes. I suppose I should have taken her to St. George, but I thought she would adapt better here. With you. She’s been through much.”
“What is St. George?” she asked, looking at him quizzically.
“A foundling home. I’m the benefactor.”
Her eyes looked at him wistfully. “You care much for the children, don’t you? You would make a fine father.” She put a dainty hand over her mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that, should I?” She didn’t look the least bit contrite.
“Do you ever want children?” He didn’t want to think of an offspring with his blood, with his father’s blood. The vile blood would die with him. He stared at the wall, studying the fleurs-de-lys in her wall coverings.
“Yes. Do you think it’s wrong of me? Perhaps four. A boy, tall and handsome like his father, and perhaps cunning, like me. Another who’s gentle and kind, like their father, and impulsive, like me. And one who’s honorable and good, like his father, and so very happy. Like I would be.”
He could see them all. A family. She had her future entirely planned. He began to sweat. “And the last?”
“A girl. With her father’s eyes, like the finest sherry.”
Colin looked at her, met her gaze, and saw the reflection of their children. Sherry colored, so poetic for the eyes of a killer.
The dream vanished as quickly as it had come and he changed the topic of conversation. “You’ll let Nancy stay here?”
“Of course,” she said once more, as if he were silly to ask. “Where did she come from?”
“I gave her my word I’d say nothing.”
“The word of a DragonSlayer?”
“Yes.” Something within him glowed at the warmth in her eyes. “Will you trust me?”
“Perhaps.”
After she seated herself on the settee and stared at him expectantly, he sat down next to her. “And now, perhaps you’ll tell me if you found Mr. Harper.”
He told her of the man Harper had described, asked her if she knew such a man, but she shook her head. “I can ask François; perhaps he can recall this mysterious man who seems so determined to do me in.”
She spoke so cavalierly and he shuddered. “There have been no more accidents?” he asked.
“None,” she said. “In fact, it’s been quite tedious.”
“Sarah, do you know of any reason why someone would do you harm? Perhaps Alcyone’s? Some lick-penny patron who finds his gambling debts insurmountable?”
She shook her head. “No one knows I have a financial interest in the club. Except for the comte. And you.”
He traced the fine carving on the arm of the settee. “Perhaps a man in your past then?”
“No,” she answered quietly. “There are no men in my past.”
He blew out a breath, happy to be able to breathe once again. “Good.” He ran a hand through his hair.
She leaned in closer, smelling like everything he had wanted but never had. “You are a wealthy man, with power, a title. Have you considered that it might be you who is the target?”
“Yes. But I can take care of myself. It’s you I worry about.” Both times, she had been in his company. While he was nearby, she was not safe. He should leave her alone. Get out of her life.
She cleared her throat delicately. “Perhaps there is some lady in your past who is unhappy with the recent gossip in the newspapers?”
“No,” Colin replied, hoping she wouldn’t notice the hot flush he felt in his cheeks.
“Are you sure?”
“There’s no place in a soldier’s life for romance. I have had no time for women.” Sometimes he had visited the brothels with the other officers, watched them go off with their whores, but he always kept his distance, never getting too close to temptation. Ah, but he had wondered. He’d listen to their tales of conquest, how the women would moan with pleasure, sigh with delight, and he’d dreamed—but never touched.
As he needed to touch her now.
He moved away from her, away from temptation, and then noticed the h
urt that flashed in her eyes. It was time for him to go. To give his warrant and run while he was still able. Tomorrow he would visit the Comte at Alcyone’s.
“My lord?” Her eyes captured him, and he couldn’t breathe.
If he were another man, he would kiss her now. But his clothes were rough, his hands dirty, and he believed he smelled of horse. He coughed instead. “I should go now.”
“It is late.” He watched the wild pulse beat in her throat and when he met her eyes, they were wide and trusting. He was such a foolish man.
He stood, looking down at her. “I can’t see you again.”
“What? I thought this evening, when you brought Nancy here, that perhaps . . . ” Her words died.
“No.”
With a mutinous set to her jaw, she stood and then brushed the dust from his lapels, standing so close he could smell her scent. The scent of her goodness and honor and virtue surrounded her like a shield. Everything he had always desired to be, everything that he would never have.
Finally, when she was satisfied, she took a step back and looked at him squarely. “I know you have feelings for me. What they are, I don’t think I quite understand.” She angled her head. “Is it because of who I am?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“This is impossible.”
Her cheeks flushed with anger, and she crossed her arms across her chest. “I see. If I were a lady of fine lineage, would it suddenly become possible?”
“No.”
“You say that as if it were the truth. What are you thinking, Lord Haverwood?”
“I should leave.”
She smiled. “And yet here you stand. The door is over there.” She pointed and he stood fast. “It’s not so easy, is it? To deny what you feel so strongly. I must confess some admiration that you would attempt it. You’re a much more disciplined person than I.”
Why couldn’t she see him for what he was? Didn’t she understand? His head began to ache. “I will hurt you.”
She laughed. “And so you skewer my heart instead? I must say, I find your brand of chivalry most peculiar.”
If he thought of his dragons, would it help? “I can’t give you the life you want.” Sirrush, lindorms, the Carthaginian serpent.
“What life could you give me, my lord?” Her gray eyes glinted like steel. “That of a mistress?”
Touched by Fire Page 15