Arabella quickly opened the door and stepped out, and the driver stopped shouting at the boy.
“I do apologize, milady,” the driver said, “but this urchin ran out in the middle of the street.”
“I understand, but I think he has been given a thorough tongue lashing.” She turned her attention towards the boy. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head hesitantly but didn’t speak.
“The lady asked you a question, boy!” the driver shouted from his perch.
Arabella turned towards the man. “Thank you for your assistance, but I shall handle this on my own.”
The driver tipped his head in response.
She returned her attention towards the boy. “How old are you?”
The boy stared at her, a bewildered look on his face.
“Can you not speak?” she asked.
“I can speak,” the boy replied shakily. “I am twelve years old.”
“What is your name?”
“Peter.”
She leaned closer to him and smiled. “It is nice to meet you, Peter,” she said. “My name is Arabella.”
Peter lowered his gaze towards the ground. “Hello.”
“May I ask why you were in the street?” she asked.
“I had to get to the other side.”
“I can’t fault that logic.”
The smell of freshly made bread wafted in the air and she saw Peter rub a hand over his stomach. She reached into her reticle and said, “I have an errand that I need you to run.”
Peter looked up at her in surprise. “Me?”
She removed two coins and extended them towards him. “I would like you to purchase some bread and deliver it to me at the milliner’s shop,” she said. “Do you know where that is?”
“I do,” he responded, accepting the coins.
“One coin should pay for the bread and the other is for your time,” she explained.
The boy clutched the coins in his hand. “I will be right back.”
“See that you are,” she replied.
Arabella watched as the boy ran off and heard her grandmother’s voice from the coach. “I fear that your trust may be misplaced.”
“Perhaps, but I hope he uses that money to purchase himself some food.”
She stepped into the coach, and they rode the short distance to the milliner shop. As she exited the coach, she saw Peter running up to her with a loaf of bread in his hand.
He came to a stop in front of her, his breathing labored. “I got yer bread,” he said, holding it up.
“I’m afraid I am not very hungry anymore,” she said. “By chance, are you hungry?”
