“I see no reason to do so, assuming you promise me that you will stop.”
A relieved look came to his face. “Thank you, miss,” he gushed. “That is most kind of you.”
She pointed towards the pheasant. “Will that be enough to feed you and your mother today?”
“It will,” he confirmed.
“I am pleased to hear that.”
Peter puffed out his chest as he admitted, “I killed a deer yesterday.”
Her brow lifted. “You killed a deer?”
“I did,” he replied. “I used my father’s pistol to shoot it.”
Finding herself curious, she asked, “Where is your father?”
Peter grew quiet. “He was a soldier, and he died fighting in the war.”
“I am sorry,” she replied. “How long ago did he pass away?”
“Four years ago.”
“That is a long time to be without a father.”
The boy squared his thin shoulders. “Last time he came home on leave, he made me promise that I would look after my mother.”
“That is most admirable of you.”
“It is my duty to care for her.”
Arabella sighed. “I can respect that, but I am sure that Lord Barrett’s gamekeeper will notice that a deer has gone missing,” she said.
“But he has so many deer on his lands.”
“That hardly matters,” Arabella replied. “It is still stealing.”
Lowering his gaze to the ground, Peter admitted, “I sold the deer to Mr. Franks.”
“Who is he?”
“The innkeeper.”
“I see,” she said. “Did he ask where you got the deer?”
Peter shifted nervously in his stance. “He has never asked before.”
“You’ve killed more than one deer?”
“I have,” he revealed. “The money I get from selling the deer feeds us for the whole week.”
Arabella stepped away from her horse. “You can’t keep going on as you have been. Lord Barrett is aware that someone is poaching on his lands.”
“He is?”
“Yes, and if you are caught, you won’t be able to take care of your mother any longer.”
The boy kicked at a rock on the ground. “But what will we eat?”
