Thea placed her hand on her son’s back. “I did something foolish,” she whispered, fearing she had only herself to blame. “I had an appointment, a rather important one, I thought, but it was a fool’s errand.” Thea forced herself to think clearly. “I came up here to see if you would watch my sons for an hour or so while I was gone, but you weren’t home. Mrs. Gray volunteered to help. I mean, the two of you are related, and you are so good and kind to the boys. Also, she was a vicar’s wife? I should have been able to trust her, shouldn’t I ... ?”
She broke off, needing, yearning for confirmation from Mrs. Hadley.
“Oh, my dear, I am so sorry,” the older woman said. Tears welled in her eyes.
“What is it?” Thea begged.
“My husband’s sister is too fond of gin. Her husband had the affliction. He was a vicar but one that stole from the church plate. He was run out of three parishes, and she is just as bad as he was. He died and she being alone, she came to see me. She had nowhere else to turn. The Church didn’t want her. I told her she could not be sipping thegin under my roof, and I thought she was doing good. You know, some people make you think they are doing well, but they aren’t. They are liars. Thieves. There has been a time or two that I sensed she was going through my things looking for a bottle or money.”
“Where is she now?” Thea asked, the words hard to push past the heaviness in her chest.
“Who knows? If she has taken your money, I shan’t be seeing her anytime soon,” Mrs. Hadley predicted. “And don’t think I’ll let her stay under my roof again after what she did. I don’t know what to do for you and your lads, Mrs. Martin. I feel bad, but I don’t know what to do.”
Thea didn’t either.
“Perhaps you should call for the Watch. Let them know she’s a thief,” Mrs. Hadley suggested.
And then what?Thea knew the money was gone. “I might,” she said, more to placate Mrs. Hadley.
“I’m so sorry,” the older woman said.
“I am as well,” Thea answered. She turned to her sons. “Come, boys. Let us see what we can find for supper.” They wouldn’t be going out for a shopping lark.
“I have a bit of bread and cheese,” Mrs. Hadley offered. “Unless Mary took that as well.”
“We’ll be fine,” Thea said, the words sounding curter than she had intended them. She softened her tone. “Truly, we will be.”
They would survive, but her dream of Jonathan going to Westminster was gone ... and she didn’t know if she could revive it. Perhaps she had been fooling herself all along that she could enroll her sons there, that she could do it all on her own.
“I’m hungry, Mother,” Jonathan complained.
“Me, too,” Christopher echoed.
Children were so resilient. Her mind was still spinning with what had happened, while her sons had moved on to what was practical.
“Let’s see what we have to eat,” Thea answered, starting down the stairs, her tread heavy, her mind numb—
She pulled up short on the last three stairs as she realized she had a visitor.
Neal Chattan, Lord Lyon, stood at her open door. He’d heard them coming down the stairs and had turned to face them.
He seemed even taller, and even handsomer, here in the dingy halls of her building than he had in Sir James’s office, perhaps because the refined cut of his clothes emphasized the shabbiness of her humble home.
Their eyes met. Thea tightened her jaw inresentment. She had a good notion to heave the Future Box at him. She had no doubt she couldn’t hit him right on his arrogant nose, and it might make her feel better.
As if reading her mind, he held up his hands. “We should talk, Thea. Please, just for a moment. We apparently have outstanding business between us.”
Chapter Three
Neal had been taken aback by how rickety the stairs in this building were. The smoke from coal fires burned his nostrils, while the smell of ages of cooked meals seemed to have permeated the walls.
This building was so old that it had to have been standing during the time of the Great Fire. It was a pity it hadn’t been burned down. He’d not live here and was surprised anyone did, most of all Lady Thea.
In the dim light of the hallway stairs, she stood tall, her eyes burning with pride. She was still dressed for going out, still in her drab hat, her gloves and her pelisse.
And he remembered her as he last saw her years ago, the memory still fresh in his mind—her hair down around her shoulders, her feet bare because she’d been wading in the stream waiting for him,a chain of bachelor buttons and daisy wildflowers forming a crown on her head.
They’d both been so young.
