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* * *

He lay there all night, like a dead man. A cold spring rain began to fall, but he was unaware of it. Some boys as young as Ted came and picked his pockets clean, but he did not know.

Paddy and Charley arrived early the next morning at the Society to see if there were any paying jobs to be cadged for the day. Hearing of none, they looked for Ace. They read his message from the night before. Dutifully, they trudged to Ace’s lodgings to check in with him.

The fellow who rented the room next to Ace assured them that Ace hadn’t come home the night before. “I’da heard him come in. The walls are that thin here.”

“Maybe he went to Clover House?” Charley asked Paddy.

“Well sure, that may be, but I don’t know how ye could check. Ye can’t jest walk up to the grand man’s front door and ask.”

“Why not?” said Charlie, undaunted. So off they went on foot to Mayfair together.

“The lower door, not the front one, Charley!” Paddy cautioned his bold friend. A lovely kitchen maid with dark red hair and perfect skin answered the bell. She assured them that Mr. Ashton Smith was not on the premises, nor had he been since yesterday.

“But if ye gentlemen wish to leave a message—” They gave their names, thanked the girl and rushed off.

“Now, did ye ever see such an example of Irish beauty?” Paddy asked his friend. “The complexion on her! Like a rose petal.”

“Forget the bloody girl, Paddy! I have a very bad feeling about this. Let’s go back to the Society and take the path Ace would have taken home. His note said that was where he was headed.”

And so they found Ace, still unconscious. The body of the injured man had been rolled into an alleyway, half out of sight. He was breathing, but just barely.

Charley said, “We’ve got to bring him somewhere for help. The Society, maybe? There’s an old quack of a drunken ship’s surgeon there, for the boxing injuries—”

“No,” Paddy said decisively. “Ace is the Duke’s man now. We take him to Clover House.”

“Oh, you just want to see that redhead again,” Charley said. But between them, they managed to carry Ace to Clover House.

* * *

They were welcomed there, although they were wet, dirty and stained with Ace’s blood. Ace seemed to be held in high esteem by the other servants. The butler, Mr. McTavish, called footmen to carry Ace to a bedroom upstairs. He sent a note to the family surgeon to stop by, as a matter of urgency.

“Now that we’ve squared away Mr. Smith, the poor man, let’s see to you lads,” said Mrs. Donovan. “Sure, you’ve been out in the pouring rain all morning. How about some cold beef with sharp mustard on my homemade bread with a mug of ale? And, of course, a piece of my famous fruit cake. Mary, go get the boys some food, before they starve to death.”

“Mary. The lass’s name is Mary,” Paddy whispered to Charley when Mrs. Donovan bustled off. “Isn’t that a lovely name?”

“Sure, Paddy,” Charley sighed, rolling his eyes, “a lovely name.”

* * *

Ace had been badly injured, attacked in the street. He had been given shelter at Clover House, and the family surgeon had been summoned. That was all Lady Josephine knew, and she had heard that much from McTavish, the butler.

She reasoned to herself that it was perfectly appropriate to go check on him in his room. She was the lady of the house, after all. Who could fault her for her charitable behavior?

She was shocked by what she found. Multiple bones broken, including a number of his ribs, the surgeon said. Even worse were the knife wounds in his back and on his face. McTavish was holding the patient down, while stitching a particularly deep cut that had just missed the left eye.

“Don’t worry, my lady,” said the surgeon, seeing her cringe. “He doesn’t feel the stitching needle. I’ve given him a heavy dose of laudanum—as heavy as I dare. He’ll be out cold for a while. But his face will bear the marks of this fight, that’s for certain.”

His poor, handsome face. Oh, Ace. You said you wanted a few scars, so they wouldn’t call you Pretty Boy in the ring….

“Well,” the surgeon said, “I’ve done what I can for the man. Keep him warm. I’ll stop in tomorrow to check on him, but in the meantime, you should keep giving him the laudanum as needed.

“By the way, does anyone know if the man has kin to be notified?”

Lady Josephine said, “I have not heard of any adult kin, but there is a younger brother, a lad of about ten years, who depends on him.”

“Ah, yes, that would be young Ted,” said McTavish. “He comes here sometimes to join young Lord Horace in his studies. They live over among the Rookeries, somewhere near the St. Giles’ area.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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