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Oh, it hadn’t been asmallamount. Still, she seemed to be taking his past well, far better than he thought she might.
“I didn’t do well as a pickpocket. I was caught more often than not, and I was utterly terrified at the thought of being arrested by the constable. I had few other options, though. I had no practical skills, and although I tried working in a factory for a while, I couldn’t keep up with the work. I was always so tired, Marcella.”
“You were so young,” Marcella said. “To have endured so much.”
“Yes,” Reginald replied. “There were others who were in far worse positions, though. My story is only uncommon for a high-born man. I met children in London, who had only eight years and were already working for hours a day.”
Marcella drew in a soft breath. “I’ve never seen that when I’ve visited London,” she confessed.
“Nor had I,” Reginald said. “We were shown the beautiful, glittering face of London and none of her cruelties.”
Silence fell between them and continued for a few moments. “What did you do, then?” Marcella asked at last.
“I tried a few other things, but mostly, I survived by stealing and begging,” Reginald said. “Eventually, I ran into a certain type of crowd, shall we say. There was a whole band of them, and they taught me how to properly steal.”
“A band of pickpockets?” Marcella asked.
“Something like that, yes,” Reginald replied. “They stole and participated in underground fighting rings. I can’t say what happened to any of them. They were cruel, and I left them as soon as I felt that I could take care of myself. I met Matthew shortly after that, and I tried to refrain from pickpocketing. I tried another job, at the same place where his wife worked, but I didn’t make enough to survive on. Besides, pickpocketing was more profitable. I returned to that, and I tried to hide it from Matthew, who was my only friend.”
“Did he know?”
“Not until I told him,” Reginald replied. “I’d learned well how to deceive a man by then. It’s not a talent I’m especially proud of.”
“It doesn’t sound as though you had much of a choice.”
They crossed a small bridge, which ran over the old brook where Reginald had practiced his swimming and fishing in his youth. He smiled when he remembered that boy, the one who hadn’t known all the horrors of the world. That child was so far away, though, lost forever to time. Reginald wondered if that innocent boy would’ve been ashamed of the man he’d become.
“No, I didn’t really,” Reginald replied. “I went on like that for years, though. I broke the law, met dangerous people, and survived. I was never really happy, but I did have brief moments of contentment. Enjoyment, even. And eventually, I found a highwayman, and he was…something of an inspiration.”
“A…a highwayman?” Marcella asked, sounding stunned. “As in—as in—”
“As in precisely what you’re thinking, yes,” Reginald replied. “I was attracted to his trade, because he only stole from travelers coming in and out of London. People with enough wealth to travel were…I suppose I managed to assuage my guilt by stealing from the wealthy rather than from the poor. That’s what it was. I told myself that I was doing a good thing because money meant I could help people who really deserved it.”
“Did you do that often?” Marcella asked.
The lady still looked quite surprised. Reginald wasn’t entirely sure if she’d really managed to move past his most recent confession.
“I did, and I eventually became so good at it that I created my own band of highwaymen. There were four of us: Edward, Charles, Isaac, and me. We had our own code of honor. We only ever stole from the very wealthy, and if at all possible, we didn’t hurt or kill anyone. We never hurt a woman or anyone’s children. We frightened them and stole their possessions. That was all. And usually, we worked well together.”
Between the four of them, they’d only ever killed three men, and all those deaths had been because they were attacked first. By luck, Reginald had never slain a single soul. At most, he’d rendered a few men unconscious or injured.
“Until you were eventually caught,” Marcella said. “Is that right?”
“Do you know, or are you guessing?” Reginald asked.
“It’s a guess,” she admitted. “Your father found you. I know that. Given what you were involved in, I imagine that you were forced to ask for his aid?”
Reginald chuckled. If only it had been that simple!
“Not entirely. I tried to rob his carriage.”
Marcella gasped. “Youdidn’t.”
Her eyes were wide, and Reginald wondered if this might be too much to tell her. Matthew was probably right, and women didn’t want to be coddled. They also probably didn’t want to behorrified, though. What lady would take joy in learning that her husband was an infamous highwayman?
He’d already forged his path, though. He couldn’t back down now.
“I did,” he continued. “I didn’t realize that it was my father at first, but he recognized me. As I was robbing him, the constable arrived, and I was forced to flee, which I did. I was caught, though, and taken to the gaol. I probably would’ve been hanged, but my father convinced the London authorities to release me instead.”
