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“The Tin Soldier?”

But she’d already closed the door.

Jackson was not unknown to him. Rufus had made his acquaintance when he worked for The Guardians, and although he’d found the man useful on occasion he had never entirely trusted him. He wasn’t surprised he’d run off and left Averil in the lurch when he’d seen Rufus that night, because he was sure that was what must have happened. Jackson must have thought he was in trouble, or perhaps it was just a spontaneous reaction for someone who lived in the murky world he did.

So had Jackson something to hide? Just what was he up to these days?

Rufus meant to find out.

Averil was in the common room to help the women with their sewing. It was a task she did not relish. No one at the Home had a talent for sewing and all of them groaned whenever she appeared to take their lesson.

“Violet, will you help Molly with her petticoat?”

The latest task she had set them was to sew themselves a very plain petticoat. Not terribly exciting perhaps, but at least it would be of use to them when they started working. Or even if they didn’t. Averil had seen the state of the clothes some of them arrived in and she felt obliged to help.

Violet was giving her a sideway

s look, and although she did as she’d been asked, Averil had a feeling the girl did not take kindly to being told what to do. She might be sweet and biddable when Gareth was there but Averil had found the girl had another side to her where others were concerned. A rebellious streak.

Perhaps that was a good thing. A woman needed a bit of fire to survive in this world, and Violet appeared to have what survivors were made of.

Sometimes she wondered why Violet was here at all. Her work was not particularly well paid, and if she’d wanted to Averil was quite certain Violet could have found alternative employment far more to her liking. She was pretty and clever and quick to learn. Gareth had told her that Violet’s family wished her to come to the Home, although the reason he gave was vague in the extreme. When Averil attempted to question Violet about it, the girl said she wasn’t happy in her own home and she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Do you sew much at home?” Averil asked now, smiling at Violet to show she wasn’t being nosey, when she was.

“Not like this,” the girl said. “Darn sometimes, or mend sheets, but never make something from new, miss. My lady,” the correction was added a little grudgingly.

“I don’t mind being miss,” Averil assured her. Then, when Violet didn’t answer her, “Well, I think to be able to sew is a skill worth—”

“What was he doing here yesterday?” Violet cut her short. “The earl, I mean.”

“He plans to make a donation, and Doctor Simmons wanted to show him about,” Averil said, surprised by the question and the way it was delivered. “Why do you ask, Violet?”

Violet shrugged, her expression closed. “No reason, miss, I just wondered.”

“He’s a good-looking sod,” Molly said, with a sly look. “Beggin’ your pardon, miss.”

Averil frowned. “Molly, if Doctor Simmons were to hear you speaking like that he wouldn’t be at all pleased.”

“Noffink I say pleases Doctor Simmons,” Molly muttered.

Averil sighed. Making conversation was sometimes very difficult, and she was glad when her lesson was over and she was able to leave. Beth was at home, and she set off, expecting her home to be as quiet as usual, but when she walked in the door she was met by the sound of Hercules barking and a boy’s excited voice.

She wasn’t really surprised—Lord Southbrook had mentioned Eustace was planning a visit. Averil made her way toward the back of the house, and was nearly knocked down by an excited Hercules. He ran up to her and then turned and ran back toward Eustace, narrowly missing knocking over a small table with a large vase on it.

“Lady Averil.” Eustace was breathless. “Hercules can jump very high to catch a ball. Did you know?”

Behind him Beth appeared, her hair untidy and her face flushed, as if she had been trying to keep Hercules and her visitor calm. And failing.

“I did know, Eustace,” said Averil. “What are you doing here?”

Eustace looked uneasy. “I wanted to visit you,” he said, with a sly glance through long lashes. “I don’t have a dog in London, so I thought I’d play with yours. Do you mind?”

Averil knew she’d be fibbing if she scolded him. She didn’t mind. She liked Eustace and she thought he was lonely, and Hercules definitely needed exercise.

“Of course I don’t mind. And I’m sure Hercules is glad to see you. It’s just that your father will be worried, and I thought you promised him not to go off on your own again?”

He looked guilty, scuffing his feet. Hercules went and leaned against him, nearly knocking him over.

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