Page 118 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

‘What is your name?’

The boy pressed his lips together and shook his head. Alice crouched down, seeming not to notice as the hem of her dress brushed against the dirt of the cobbles.

‘What is your name?’ she asked this time, her voice soft as if she were talking to one of their nieces.

‘Peter, miss.’ The boy looked at Alice, and then the tears started to flow from his eyes like a river after a winter storm. ‘I don’t want to hang, miss. Please don’t let him hang me.’

‘You’re not going to hang,’ Simon said firmly. ‘There was a man watching us. Tall, dark hair, green coat. Was he with you?’

The boy nodded miserably.

‘He told you what to do?’

Again the boy nodded.

‘What is his name?’

‘I can’t tell you. He’ll gut me if I do, and that’s even worse than hanging.’

‘Is he your father?’ Alice asked.

‘No, my father’s dead.’

‘What about your mother?’

The boy’s eyes darted to the side, and he shrugged.

‘Your mother is alive?’ Simon said, waiting for the boy to look at him again. He still held the lad by the wrist, knowing as soon as he loosened his grip, the young boy would disappear into the warren of streets that made up St Giles.

Peter nodded glumly.

‘Do you live near here?’

Again the boy nodded.

Simon turned to the driver of the carriage who had hopped down from his seat to join them.

‘Drummond, take my wife home. Ensure she is escorted safely all the way to the front door.’

Simon turned to Alice to see her frowning.

‘You mean to send me back alone?’

‘You will be quite safe with Drummond, in the carriage.’

‘It is not my safety I fear for.’

He looked at his wife for a moment, realisation dawning. ‘You wish to see where this boy lives too?’

‘He is only seven, Simon, and clearly he was under the influence of that man who was watching us. I do not want to see him punished.’

‘You think I do not mean it when I say I do not want to see him hanged?’

Alice didn’t say anything, but her lack of denial hurt more than he thought possible. He might not plan to be a true husband to his wife, but to realise how little she trusted him was difficult to accept.

‘I merely want to take this boy home to his family and have a quiet word with his mother. She may be pragmatic, she may not, but I cannot merely let the boy go,’ Simon said, his voice low. ‘He will be off through the streets and back into the arms of the gang that pressed him to pick my pocket.’ He spoke sharply and saw Alice recoil slightly, but she did not retreat.

‘I shall come with you, then.’