Page 35 of Lady Gambit
“Of course. You taste divine and kiss like you’ve mastered the art. Indeed, you have filled my heart with hope. The law ofaverages says I may encounter another man who appeals to me as much as you do.”
He fell silent, which was just as well because the blind man stopped at the entrance to Monmouth Court—a passage leading deep into the warrens of St Giles. Two boys wearing smart clothes and clean caps stood blocking the entrance, looking as proud as the King’s guards.
Mr Daventry removed a pencil from his pocket and scribbled on his calling card. He shoved the card and a gold coin into one boy’s hand. “Take this to your mistress.”
While the boy scampered away down the alley, Delphine studied her surroundings. Nothing seemed familiar. Not the rowdy drunkards gathered outside the inn. Not the barefooted children clinging to their mother’s dirty skirts. Not the hungry mites with their noses pressed to the baker’s shop window, inhaling the smell of freshly baked bread.
Guilt flared as she said a silent prayer of thanks to the Lord. But for the grace of God, this would have been her home.
There were charities to help the needy. Ways she might make a difference to people’s lives instead of wasting her days tidying her armoire.
She gripped Mr Flynn’s arm a little tighter. “When this is over, I shall find more useful ways to spend my time. Aaron rescued me from a fate worse than death. I must repay the debt and help as many poor souls as I can.”
He covered her hand with his own, an innocent gesture that caused a quickening deep in her core. “Walking these streets would make anyone count their blessings.”
“You would make an excellent mentor for orphaned boys.” There were lost children all over the city. “They need hope, and a purpose that doesn’t involve stealing food to survive.”
Ideas burst into her mind. Each one of her brothers had a skill that proved invaluable. She could start a charitablefoundation. First, she needed to gain her freedom by uncovering the secrets of the past.
The boy returned and beckoned them into the alley.
Fear fluttered in her chest as she entered the narrow walkway. The hairs on her nape prickled to attention. Faint memories slid into her mind as she passed the bow windows of various shops.
Look what I’ve found, Mrs Haggert.
Well. Well. Ain’t you the little magpie?
She concentrated on following Mr Daventry, putting one foot in front of the other, her sights fixed on the black paint-chipped door at the end of the passage—the gateway to hell.
“We don’t have to do this,” Mr Flynn whispered.
“There’s no other way to ensure my brothers’ safety.” She did not hide her growing apprehension. In Mr Flynn’s company, buried emotions found their way to the surface. “Though the truth will set me free, instinct says I have every reason to be afraid.”
“No one will hurt you on my watch, Miss Chance.” He spoke with a lover’s warmth and tenacity. “Colleagues, friends, whatever we are to each other, I’ll kill the first man who lays a hand on you.”
She resisted the urge to throw herself into his arms and hug him for his unwavering loyalty. “I pray it won’t come to that. I doubt my declaration will count for much, but I’d die before I’d let you risk your life for me.”
Their eyes remained locked for a heartbeat.
But then the black door creaked open, and her breath caught in her throat. Not even the heat of Mr Flynn’s gaze could chase the chill of fear from her bones.
A stick of a man beckoned them into the four-story house with one bony finger. “This way. You’ll wait for Mrs Haggert inthe drawing room.” His skeletal features and sunken eyes would make any child believe in monsters.
A group of boys appeared on the landing, gawping and whispering amongst themselves. A stern voice barked at them from the shadows, and they scurried away like terrified rats.
The drawing room was like Mrs Maloney’s sitting room, a cosy place with a stoked fire, dark walls and comfortable velvet chairs. A portrait hung above the mantel. The young, dark-haired woman looked almost regal in bearing.
Nothing seemed familiar until she noticed the iron fire tools with the gold ormolu handles.
Whine again, and I’ll take that shovel to your bare arse.
The door opened, and an old woman with white curly hair appeared. She wore a fashionable black dress, red rouge on her cheeks and lips, though it failed to warm her pale complexion or soften her stern features.
The woman took one look at her, and though her wide mouth formed a grin, her black eyes were as cold as glass. “Well, well. What have we here? Foolish chit. Have you learnt nothing? No one returns to the coop. You know that, Caterina.”
Chapter Eight
Mrs Haggert captured Miss Chance’s chin between her gnarled fingers. “You always were a pretty little thing. As dainty as a spring bud. I knew this day would come, though I never thought Aaron Chance would be stupid enough to let you set foot in my house again.”
