Page 34 of Too Scot to Handle
She kissed him again, a solid smack. “Tell me about John.”
He touched his fingers to his mouth, as if to make sure his lips were still affixed to his countenance.
“John took terrible risks. I expect all of the older boys go for the occasional stroll without supervision, but John spotted a potential mark, pursued him with malice aforethought, stole the gentleman’s purse, then fled with the contraband. That’s about eight felonies, and the victim—exhausted, portly, and half-seas over, would likely have tired of the chase if we hadn’t come along.”
Anwen paced away, lest she spend the next thirty minutes staring at Lord Colin’s mouth, when she ought to be considering how to deflect young John from the path of ruin.
“The boys are bored,” she said, “and John is their leader in mischief. If he had made off with that purse, he would have crowed about it to the others. The next time, Dickie would have gone with him.”
“There can’t be a next time,” Colin said, remaining by the door. “If word gets out that the House of Urchins is not only pockets to let, but harboring cutpurses and thieves, you won’t raise a single groat from your wealthy friends.”
“It’s worse than that,” Anwen said, though what could be worse than consigning a dozen boys to prison? “I’ve involved my family in the effort to raise funds, and any stain on the reputation of the House of Urchins will reflect on my family’s consequence. If I bungle this, they’ll never again let me involve myself in a similar project and they won’t involve themselves either.”
And that she could not allow. The boys mattered, and having something to do besides waltz, embroider, swill tea, and rest her feet mattered too.
Colin propped a hip on a potting table, palm fronds and a lemon tree framing him with greenery.
“I gather one of the four oldest boys tarried too long before breakfast this morning, and all four were sent to detention. I set them to cleaning the stable, and they did a creditable job. My objective is to tire them sufficiently that they haven’t the energy to wander, and to give them a job they can take pride in.”
“I would never have thought to do that,” Anwen replied, “and yet, it’s perfect. The stable is a disgrace. MacDeever has too much work to do, and Hitchings seems oblivious to anything but the scholarly curriculum. You have younger brothers, is that how you knew what to do?”
“I was a captain, a lowly enough officer that I had to actually supervise my men. They were mostly humble young fellows more interested in getting up to mischief than routing the French.”
Anwen knew how that felt—to be interested in getting up to mischief—thanks to Lord Colin. She scooted onto the potting table six inches from where he stood.
“So you started the boys off with cleaning the stable, a punishment that’s in fact a relief from their miseries. What else do you have in mind, and how soon can we meet with Hitchings to explain that his approach requires modification?”
Lord Colin leaned closer. “We are meeting with Hitchings?”
“The ladies’ committee should be represented, in the event there’s some capacity in which we could be of aid. If John’s stealing purses, the situation is dire, and no resource should be spared to put it to rights.”
“The situation is dire,” Lord Colin muttered. “Very well, join us at the meeting. I suspect I’ll have an easier time talking old Hitchings around if we bring Winthrop Montague along and the chairman of the board as well.”
“Excellent suggestions,” Anwen said, hopping off the table. “Now I suggest we do repair to the garden.”
Lord Colin crossed his arms. “Because?”
“Because Charlotte and Elizabeth will be finished searching for us there, and we can continue this discussion without their helpful interference. I’d as soon keep the conservatory as my hiding place of last resort for as long as possible.”
She was out the French doors in the next instant, Lord Colin following with gratifying alacrity.
Chapter Seven
“You’ve apparently enjoyed the longest ride in the park in the history of Hyde Park,” Lady Rhona MacHugh said.
Colin stopped at the foot of the garden steps. “And a fine day to you too, sister.”
“Don’t start acting like a brother.” Edana used her foot to push out a chair at the table they occupied beneath a stately oak. “We worry about you.”
They made a pretty picture on a pretty afternoon, two lovely redheads at their leisure in the MacHugh back garden. But then, Colin had kissed Anwen Windham farewell not an hour past. He’d be in a sunny mood even if rain were coming down in torrents and a foul miasma had wafted in off the river.
He took the proffered seat. “What have you two been up to while you were so worried about me?”
“We got a letter from Hamish.” Rhona passed over a single folded sheet of paper. “Married life agrees with him.”
The letter had been addressed to Colin. “Reading my mail, are you?”
“It was from Hamish,” Edana said, filling a teacup for Colin. “If there was trouble, we’d want to know.” She added milk and sugar, gave it a stir, put four biscuits on the saucer, and passed it over.
