“I won’t disturb you further.” I started to close the window, but he placed his hand on it, blocking it.
There was a nervous bob in his throat. “Thank you, miss. For this job. I know it was you who convinced His Lordship.”
“It was Papa’s idea, really.”
“How do you feel after yesterday?” he asked.
I felt his care like a warm breeze on my cheek.
“A bit tired.”
He wrung the cloth without looking at me. “My sister was tired as well after a seizure. Mama would prepare a rich chicken broth for her.” Another crimson flare speared his aura. “You probably have something better than chicken.”
“It’s a great suggestion. I’ll try the chicken.” I drummed my fingers on the sill, gathering my courage. “We might have tea later.”
A burgundy flash flared in his aura. Shock. “I’m hardly an expert on etiquette, miss, but I don’t think it would be appropriate.”
My cheeks warmed. “Of course it wouldn’t be. I mean, I agree but…” I didn’t know where to look. He was right, but the offer had slipped past my lips in complete innocence. “It’s that I thought you might want…” My voice sounded like that of a mouse.
“You feel lonely, don’t you? Because of your condition. People avoid you. They consider you dangerous.” His understanding reached me easily as if we’d been friends for a long time.
“Yes.”
He fiddled with the cloth. “We could talk through the window as we’re doing now. But I don’t think we should take tea together. For your sake. And mine.”
“Talking would be great.”
A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Although I’m not sure what a street thief and a viscount’s daughter would talk about.”
“Pickpocketing. Every lady should learn how to steal a wallet.”
He laughed, and yellow happiness spread through his aura. “A valuable skill in a Mayfair ballroom.”
“You’d be surprised.” I laughed as well, and his happiness and mine mingled. “I hope we’ll be friends.” My tone was serious.
Yellow glowed in his halo more fiercely. “So do I.”
“I’m so glad you came.”
He nodded. “Likewise.”
Right then, Miss Garrett’s voice came from the hallway. “Irene?”
I waved. “I have to go. Don’t be afraid to ask for something to eat in the kitchen. Cook will be happy.”
He swallowed hard. His aura grew more crimson by the minute. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Likewise.”
5
A VISITOR
Alex
When I crawled into the damp dark hole I called home, my muscles hurt, the skin on my hands was bleeding thanks to the scullery soap, and a headache pounded against my temples. But for the first time in years, I was happy. Miss Harlowe’s brightness had something to do with it. Finally, I’d met a girl who didn’t care about my being a thief. She talked to me as if I were worthy of her attention. Her care made me feel human.
After I lit a lamp, the room didn’t look less desperate in the semidarkness.
