And that was unforgivable.
Fury consumed her. Right there, in the middle of the busy city, she walked in a small, tight circle like a madwoman with too much energy to spare. Of course, she bumped into someone ... an orange girl who was not expecting Thea’s sudden change of direction.
“Sorry, miss, sorry,” the girl mumbled, adjusting the basket on her arm and hurrying on her way.
Thea looked around. She was in Picadilly. Only a few more blocks to home. She took a deep breath and released it. Enough of this nonsense. She needed to collect herself so that when she walked through the door of her apartments she had a smile on her face for her sons.
Of course, her smile would have been broaderif she had actually been looking forward to a fat commission.
Money worries always plagued her, but the school fees were a particular concern. Mirabel, Lady Palmer, had offered the money, but Thea didn’t want to take advantage of her friend, who was already too generous to her and her sons by half.
No, educating her sons was something she must do on her own.
As Thea turned the corner onto her narrow street, she repeated under her breath with each step, “It will all work out. It will all work out.”
Her lips might be saying the words, but her mind was very anxious, an anxiety compounded by the realization that she had not shopped for their dinner that night. In her desire to save money, she sometimes let the cupboard grow a bit too bare. Her boys would be hungry.
Thea stood at the base of the four flights of stairs leading to her apartment and decided that this night, they all needed a treat. The half shilling she owed Mrs. Gray would clean out the allowance she gave herself for the week, but just this once, she should raid the Future Box for a little extra.
Perhaps she and the boys would make a night of it. They would do a bit of shopping and then buy ameat pie for their dinner. Jonathan’s appetite was starting to grow, but she and Christopher could spilt a half pie between them, and they would enjoy it in the small park several blocks away.
Her boys grew restless when left inside all day. She didn’t dare let them roam free in this neighborhood. She knew from growing up with brothers that boys of any age could find trouble if not kept under some sort of supervision. Furthermore, she was determined to raise gentlemen, not urchins.
The trudge up the stairs was always tiring, but Thea’s fatigue vanished when she saw her door slightly ajar. She always kept it bolted, and, before she’d left, she had advised Mrs. Gray to do the same.
She hesitated outside the door. “Mrs. Gray?”
“We are right here, Mother,” came Jonathan’s voice, his relief clear.
Thea pushed the door open. Her sons were sitting side by side on the same wooden chair. Jonathan’s arm was around Christopher’s shoulder. She smiled. It warmed her heart to see her boys depending on each other and relieved her momentary fears.
“Hello there, my handsome lads,” she said. “Mummy’s home.”
To that statement, Christopher burst into tears. He jumped from the chair and ran to her, catching her at the knees and almost toppling her.
“I’m happy to see you as well,” she said, laughing. She gave him a hug and smiled at Jonathan, a smile that quickly died when she saw that his eyes were red and he had been crying as well. “Jonathan? Is something the matter? Where is Mrs. Gray?”
There was no sight or sound of the woman.
“She left,” Jonathan said, his voice strained, as if he had the worst sort of news to tell her. Christopher buried his head deeper into her skirts and cried harder.
Thea moved into the room, walking her youngest in with her. She set her reticule aside on a chair and called, “Mrs. Gray?”
No answer.
“She’s not here, Mummy,” Jonathan repeated. “I told you she left.”
“Where did she go? Why would she leave?”
Christopher started gasping for breath as if he would be sick. Jonathan, instead of being horrified the way he usually was when his brother threatened to be ill, jumped from the chair and raced over to hug him.
Thea fell to her knees on the floor and gathered them both in her arms. “Be easy, Christopher, easy. Mummy’s home. Nothing bad will happen.”
“It is bad,” Jonathan said. “Very bad.”
“What is bad?” Thea asked, struggling to keep her voice calm. “You can tell me. Did Mrs. Gray do something bad?”
“Yes,” Christopher said. “I didn’t mean to tell her about the Future Box. I told her to stop.”
