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Angus waggled a finger. “That’s me.”
“If I’m not there, one of them will help you.”
She stared at Tilly for a moment longer before pulling her into a hug. The little girl froze for a few moments before a thin hand snuck out of her ragged sleeve to rest on Sabrina’s back.
When Sabrina finally let go, Tilly gave her a shy grin. “Yer nice, miss. Prolly the nicest lady I ever met.”
Graeme heartily agreed with that assessment. Sabrina was so bloody nice it made his heart ache from the loss of something he knew he could never have.
“Away with you, now,” he gruffly said, helping Tilly down.
Sabrina leaned over the edge of the carriage. “Remember, come to Heriot Row if you need help.”
Tilly favored them with a dazzling smile. The lass would grow up to be a beauty some day if, God and the Kendricks willing, she could escape the same fate as her mother. He’d talk to Nick first, but Graeme had every intention of getting the young lass and her brother safely stowed.
“I won’t forget,” Tilly said. “God bless ye, miss.”
Then she darted away, disappearing in the crowd.
Sabrina slumped in her seat and pressed a hand to her eyes. “God, that was horrible.”
Angus patted her knee. “Och, yer not to worry. We’ll sort things out for the lass and her brother.”
Sabrina lowered her hands. “But how will you even find her?”
“Yer forgettin’ yon laddie’s a spy. He’ll find the bairn.”
“Good Lord,” Graeme muttered.
Sabrina huffed out a watery laugh as she fished inside the pocket of her walking gown. “I’m not usually such a watering pot. It’s just that her situation was so—” She broke off.
“Something wrong?” Graeme asked.
“My new handkerchief is missing.” Her smile was rueful. “I do believe Miss Ballantine picked my pocket while hugging me.”
Chapter Twelve
“Are you sure this be the right place, my lady?” Hannah asked, still inside the hackney. “It smells something awful.”
After shaking the dirt of the rundown coach from her skirts, Sabrina glanced back at her maid. “We’re near the cattle market. Since you’re from the country, you should be used to that smell.”
“I hate cows,” the maid glumly replied.
Sabrina ignored her as she gazed at the sign above the door of a three-story building—one that had seen better days, approximately two hundred years ago.
The oldest part of Edinburgh meandered in a downward, antique sprawl from the castle on its high promontory. The buildings were crowded together and unusually tall, looming over the alleyways and narrow streets that made up Old Town. They cast gloomy shadows even on a bright summer morn.
Historic, yes, but Old Town offered endless opportunities for people to stumble into trouble. Poverty and desperation lurked in the warren of alleys, and so did crime.
You should have told Graeme about this.
She kicked that unwelcome thought to the back of her mind. Tilly’s note had been quite clear: come alone, and quickly. Yesterday, the girl had refused any help. Something had obviously changed quite drastically overnight.
“The sign is very faded,” Sabrina said. “But I think I can seeWeeand probablyDog, so this must be it.”
Tilly had asked to meet at a coffeehouse named the Wee Black Dog. Unless there was a Wee White or a Wee Yellow Dog, this was the spot.
“But, my lady—”
