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“Off you go.” He flicked his hand at the child. “Now! Go!”
The boy jumped and then backed away, turning and running off. Eleanor watched him go, her heart aching for him. To be that desperate that he had to threaten people to get money off them. She would happily give him some pennies to get some food. Even if it meant going hungry herself. Nobody needed to put a knife to her throat.
“Are you all right, Miss?”
Eleanor looked up, and then further up. The man was standing right in front of her, and he was far too tall. Her head barely came up to his chin. The lower half of his face was visible, showing a strong-hard jaw with a dusting of a beard, but Eleanor couldn’t clearly see his eyes.
He was certainly very imposing.
Then she realized he had asked her a question, and she cleared her throat.
“I’m fine. That just made me jump, that’s all.”
“That lad didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No, of course not.” Eleanor sighed. “Poor boy. He didn’t look any older than ten years of age.”
The man grunted. “Children on the streets start at the age of six, in my experience. A lot of them are just trying to survive. They’ll do anything to get food in their bellies.”
“But they wouldn’t need to steal from people,” Eleanor protested. “I would have given them something. Those children should be at home. Or in the orphanage if they have no parents.”
The man spread his hands.
“You try telling a child they should be going into an orphanage. They’re not well-run, and there isn’t any freedom.”
“Oh, you think so?” Eleanor folded her arms. “Did you grow up in an orphanage? Did your personal experience colour your opinion? Because I help at the orphanage at the end of the street and it is very well run by the nuns there. There is also a lot of freedom. The children are always fed and clothed, and they’re treated with the love they need and deserve.”
They stared at each other. From the flickering expression on the man’s face - what she could see of his face - he hadn’t expected such a vehement response. He cleared his throat and took half a step back. Was he looking sheepish?
“Forgive me, Miss, but you don’t look old enough…” He winced. “You look too refined to be working there.”
“I’m more than old enough,” Eleanor said stiffly. “And why should it matter if I’m too refined? Someone has to look after these children.”
And someone had to stand up for them, even those who were forced to fight, attack and steal just to get anything. Eleanor was reminded of how privileged she was growing up, but not everyone got that chance. It made her appreciate life a bit more after witnessing what people would go through just to survive, even if it meant hurting others.
The man was staring at her. Eleanor couldn’t clearly read his expression, but he wasn’t scowling at her. If anything, he was curious. Maybe he couldn’t figure her out. He wouldn’t be the first one to think that; most men found Eleanor confusing.
“I like your spirit, Miss.”
Eleanor snorted. “You would be the first man who did.”
“It’s not a quality that men look for? I am surprised.”
“Not in this current time.” Eleanor was aware of how dark it was and how alone she was, even with this man. His presence was making her skin prickle, and Eleanor wasn’t sure what to make of it. She started to step around him. “I’d better go home. My father is going to wonder where I am, and I promised I would be home an hour ago.”
“Then I won’t keep you.” The man paused. “Unless you want me to walk you home. You should have a chaperone.”
“It’s not necessary, and I’ve got this in case something happens.” Eleanor reached into her pocket and brought out her knife. “I can look after myself walking just one street.”
The man was staring at the knife. He was more than likely not expecting a young lady to bring out a knife. Most women would accept the offer to be walked home. But Eleanor was not most women.
Then his mouth twitched into a slight smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Eleanor’s heart to miss a beat. That was a handsome smile, even if it wasn’t a full one. He bowed, stepping aside.
“Then I won’t accost you, Miss. Good evening.”
“Good evening, Sir.”
Eleanor hurried on, forcing herself to look forwards. She was still flustered at that half-smile. When was the last time a man had ever made her feel warm and fluttery inside? Probably never. Eleanor hadn’t had enough time to experience it with anyone. As soon as a certain viscount’s son, Matthew Leyton, had noticed her, he had made a point of letting everyone know that Eleanor was his girl and she wasn’t to be courted by anyone. People kept their distance whenever Eleanor tried to talk to them, she found out later it was because they didn’t want Leyton’s wrath. He had scared them into keeping away.
