What in the hell could the boy have got in to? “Is he being whipped already?”
“No, my lord. He is being given a bath. Something for which he apparently has a mortal fear.”
Dom ran a hand over his face. “Afraid of bathing?”
“Yes, my lord. From what we have been able to understand his mother died taking one.”
She probably drowned after drinking too much.
Fred, Thea’s footman, burst through the green baize door and skidded to a halt. “My lord, thank God you’re here. You must come immediately.”
Dom shook his head. This situation seemed to be completely out of control. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”
“Every time I tried to leave, the poor bantling grabbed on to me and started to cry. If you can just explain to him the water won’t kill him, I think he’ll be fine.”
First a recalcitrant cat, now a badly behaved child. What else was he destined to be burdened with? “I’ll come.”
Dom arrived in the kitchen for the first time since his father had died to find his housekeeper, Mrs. Sorley, standing with her hands on her hips staring down at a dirty mass of rags huddled in a corner. “You won’t eat, until you’re clean, and that’s all there is to it.”
Although the child’s bones stuck out, even the threat of starvation wasn’t doing the trick. “I’ll take it from here.”
She glanced at him, and instead of expressing consternation that he was personally involving himself in a servant matter, said, “Well, it’s about time you got here . . . my lord.”
He raked his hand through his hair and the thought that he was losing control of his carefully ordered life once again entered his mind. “Get the boy a mug of milk and a piece of buttered bread.”
She bustled away muttering something Dom couldn’t make out.
Holding his hand out, Dom used his firmest tone. “Come.”
Tom lifted his tearstained face. Streaks of grime ran down it and great shudders wracked his emaciated body. He had never seen a child so terrified. Clearly, this was not going to be a simple matter.
“I’ll die if I go in that tub.”
Dom lowered himself onto a nearby stool. “Tell me why you think that is.”
“That is what happened to my mother. She went into a tub and started to scream. Then blood came out of her, and she went to sleep and never woke up.”
“Were you alone?”
Tom nodded. “After she died, old Mrs. White said I had to leave and some men came and took me away.”
Mrs. White, whoever she was, would be hearing from Dom in short order. Fighting the urge to hit something, one by one he unclenched his fingers. How could anyone just throw a child out? “How long ago was that?”
Tom’s large tired eyes gazed up at Dom as if he were a god. “I don’t know.”
Well, then, he would have to discover that detail later. First the child needed to bathe and eat. “I promise you, you will not die in the tub. I shall remain here to ensure nothing threatens you. Will that do?”
For several moments it appeared that Tom would refuse Dom as well, then the child nodded. “Do you promise I won’t die?”
“Word of a Bradford.” He was responsible for the lives of hundreds of people on his estates. Yet it was strangely humbling having this little boy think he had the power over life and death.
Still shaking, Tom stood and started to remove the rest of his clothing. Mrs. Sorley returned with the food and a maid took the soiled garments.
Dom was shocked at the bruises and other signs of brutality that covered most of the lad’s body. “Who did this to you?”
Tom’s mouth formed a thin line, and he shook his head back and forth. “I dare not say. He will kill me.”
It appeared that Mrs. White was not the only person whom Dom was going to have to deal with. He lifted the boy into the tub. One of the maids soaped up a piece of linen and began scrubbing Tom’s thin body. Once the dirt was gone, the child wasn’t too bad of a specimen. His hair was dark blond, and his nose was a little too large for his face, but other than that, all his features were regular. There was something oddly familiar about him, but for the life of him Dom couldn’t place it.
