Page 40 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
“Please, Your Grace, could you make sure that Kit is all right? It’s so terribly dark, and with the storm...”
“I’ll make sure he’s all right,” the duke promised and left her alone.
She sat for a long moment, holding Henry’s hand by his bed. The warmth of Kit’s robe and the fire blazing in the hearth slowly sank into her, erasing the cold from the storm, if not the memory of it.
“Everything will be all right, Henry...” She thought of how relieved she was to be here with him, under the safety of Kit’s roof rather than her little cupboard at that boarding house. She stroked Henry’s hair back from his face and tried to relax.
It was only later that she remembered something that had bothered her at the back of her mind. Lord Tiverton had called her Miss Townsend, but she had never once mentioned her name to him or his butler tonight. How had he known who she was?
* * *
Kit crouched by Mr. Samuels,who was stroking the neck of one of his beloved horses, weeping softly. The powerful storm had softened into a thick, misting rain. Kit was freezing and soaked clear through to the bone, but he wouldn’t leave the driver or the dead man on the street. Nor could he leave behind the rush of fear that he’d felt when he’d seen Suzannah’s bedraggled form as she’d stumbled into his home, crying for help. His mind had leapt to the worst conclusion, that his enemies had struck out at her to get to him. Yet the truth made him feel no better.
His skin felt tight and his bones vibrated with the echoes of his fear and panic, but he’d done all he could for the moment, and the sooner he handled this situation with the driver and the other man’s body, the sooner he could get back home. And when he did, he would take his green-ribbon girl into his arms and not let go for hours until his panic and fear receded.
A wagon rolled up and a constable hopped down, his boots splashing in the muddy water that was still thick upon the streets. Kit explained what he had learned from Suzannah and the driver about the incident.
The constable, a middle-aged man named John Rivers, called for a group of men sitting in the back of the wagon to help load the deceased man’s body into the back. The constable promised another wagon would be sent to collect the dead horses. The third horse, the one belonging to the dead man, swayed a little, still making sounds of distress. Its front foreleg was lifted a little off the ground, but it didn’t appear to be broken.
“Poor beast,” Rivers sighed. “Best put him out of his misery.” He pulled out a pistol and started toward the horse.
Kit stood there, the rain drowning out all other thoughts as he stared at Mr. Samuels mourning his horses, then gazed at the third horse, who in mere seconds would also be dead. Suzannah’s face filled his mind in a blinding flash.
“Rivers! Hold on a minute.” He rushed toward the constable and caught the man by the shoulder. “Wait,” he said. “Please.” Then he nodded back to Mr. Samuels. “Just a minute,” he said again.
The constable lowered his pistol, and Kit approached the grieving driver.
“Mr. Samuels.”
The man turned to Kit, his brown eyes wide with pain. “They’re gone. I raised them since they were foals, and now they’re just gone.”
Kit swallowed, trying not to lose his composure. “I know, butthathorse...” He nodded at the one still alive. “That one might yet survive if a man who knows his horses took him under his care.”
Mr. Samuels wiped rain and tears from his eyes. “I can’t afford it, my lord. My coach is broken, and my horses are... I have no way to feed my family now, let alone take care of that one.”
Kit was quiet for a moment before inspiration struck him. “I am in need of a permanent driver, and I only recently purchased a new coach that you could drive for me.” Kit met his gaze solemnly. “I’ll pay you well above the going rate and for the care and expenses of that horse if you will care for him along with helping take care of two horses I’ve recently purchased myself. You may also move your wife and children into the servants’ quarters of my townhouse, if you wish. I am currently understaffed, and we have plenty of space.”
Mr. Samuels blinked, his lips wide in shock. “I don’t know what to say, my lord.”
Kit held out a hand to him. “Say yes. Tell me you’ll be my driver.”
“But why me, my lord?” Mr. Samuels asked. “I’ve only worked for you for less than a week.”
“Because I trust men who care for animals the way you do. It says much about the type of person you are.” He’d never seen a good man hurt an animal.
The driver looked between Kit and the injured horse before nodding.
“I accept.”
“Good.” Kit now turned back to Rivers. “We’ll be taking the horse with us.”
“What?” The constable stared at him. “But the beast is injured. Surely you wouldn’t want to waste your time on him. Besides, he’s not even yours.”
“I’m aware of that,” Kit assured him. “If the deceased man has any family, I will pay them double the horse’s value before he was injured.” He provided the constable with his name and address.
Rivers raised an eyebrow. “So, you are one of them gents that live in Devil’s Square, then?”
Kit would have smiled, had he not felt so bone weary. “I am. Will that be a problem?” he asked.
