Page 54 of The Lawrence Browne Affair
“Go abroad.”
“I have no money.”
“You have the jewels. I’ll give you ready money, if that’s what you’re talking about.”
Georgie shook his head. “My brother and sister live in London. And you’re here. There’s no life for me on the Continent. But if I stay here, I’ll put you all in danger, and I won’t do that.”
And you’re here.That made it sound like Georgiewouldstay, if not for this Brewster bastard. “I’ll come too,” he said rashly. “We’ll tour the Continent. Your criminal friend can’t possibly hunt you across Europe.”
Lawrence had been to London as a young man and to Exeter twice to visit his tutor. Those trips had been . . . deeply unpleasant. Christ, the idea of going so far as the village church sounded ghastly. Even in the safety of his study, he could imagine narrow streets, strange buildings closing in on him, unfamiliar people like so many rocks in his boot.
But he would do it for Georgie. Just like he had gone downstairs last night to see Simon. And that had turned out fine, hadn’t it? Better than fine.
“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep.” Georgie laid a hand on Lawrence’s arm. “Neither of us is in a position to make any promises at all.”
Lawrence wanted to protest. There were a dozen promises already forming on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to promise to love and protect Georgie as best as he could, as long as he would let him. He wanted to promise to follow Georgie to the ends of the earth or anywhere else he needed to go.
But Georgie was right. He wasn’t in any position to make those promises. He could barely walk downstairs to greet his own son, and his entire body flinched at the prospect of having to venture even farther.
For all he had come to depend on Georgie, he knew that Georgie could not depend on him in return.
So instead of uttering useless promises, he nodded his head in bitter assent.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Georgie slipped through the corridors that had become as familiar to him as the narrow alleys and back passageways of London. He kept his footsteps silent, even though there was no reason for secrecy. Some habits were hard to break.
He tapped on Simon’s door. The child was supposed to be resting after lunch, but Georgie doubted that would last long. Sure enough, he heard the sound of giggles and scuffling coming from within, and when he pushed open the door, he found Simon and Barnabus engaged in a heated debate over the fate of a long black sock.
When the dog noticed Georgie, bearer of treats and giver of excellent head scratches, standing in the doorway, he immediately let go of the sock, causing Simon to tumble backwards in a riot of laughter.
“Down,” Georgie ordered the dog, who obeyed as best he could while wagging his tail at top speed. Georgie realized with a start that he would miss this furry mongrel. When he finished with a job, he never let himself shed a tear over the places and people he would never see again, but he already knew that his usual defenses were of no use to him at Penkellis.
He’d miss ramshackle Penkellis, with its senseless tangle of corridors and decayed greatness. He’d never see it in the spring, when the overgrown garden must teem with masses of wildflowers. He’d miss getting to know Simon better, and he wished he had time to figure out why the child had seemed so unwell the first few days after he arrived. He’d never hear Janet and Mrs. Ferris’s explanation of what stolen cauls had to do with smuggling rings. He’d never know what Lawrence’s next project would be.
Maybe the problem was that it didn’t feel like the end of a job. Not only was he walking away empty-handed for the first time, but he felt like he was about to leave the best part of himself behind. At Penkellis, he had gotten a taste of what life would be like with a purpose, with a sense of belonging, the very things he had scorned in his flight from the gutter. He had never understood what use fine feelings were to a man who was half-starved.
But now he thought he did.
That was why he couldn’t take the jewels. It would have been so easy to slip them into his coat pocket and get on the next ship for Calais, or even go back to London and use the rubies to buy off Brewster. But then every time Lawrence thought of the necklace, the ring, the gaudy watch fob, he’d wonder if Georgie had really gotten what he came for after all. And Georgie didn’t want Lawrence to remember him as a glorified thief who had made off with the family jewels.
He cleared his throat. “I thought you might want to visit the stables to see Mr. Medlock’s carriage and horses,” he told Simon. “You’ll need your warmest clothes.”
Georgie didn’t need to bring Simon to the stables, nor did he need to make sure that there was enough hay and straw for the horses and that the servant who had been press-ganged into service as a stable hand was competent in his new position. But he wanted to. These small tasks had made him feel like he belonged here, and even though he had known all along that this was an illusion, he wanted one last time to feel needed, to pretend that this was his home.
They set out for the stables, Barnabus trotting alongside. The snow fell heavily enough that when Georgie looked over his shoulder, their footprints were already covered by fresh snow. Lady Standish and Lord Medlock would be stuck at Penkellis until tomorrow at the earliest. As soon as the snow melted enough to pose no danger to carriage wheels, they’d be on their way to London.
Georgie would be gone before then. He needed to reach Mattie Brewster before any gossip did. Otherwise there was the risk that Brewster’s men would come to Penkellis, and Georgie couldn’t let that happen. It was time for Georgie to pay for all the wrong he had done, and the price would be leaving Penkellis.
“Listen!” cried Simon, tugging at Georgie’s sleeve.
At the sound of snow-muffled hoofbeats, Georgie went rigid, imagining it was Mattie Brewster coming for him. But Brewster couldn’t have found him yet, and even if he had, he’d hardly come on horseback, least of all on the huge black stallion that was bearing down on them.
But still Georgie’s heart pounded in his chest as the rider brought the horse up short in front of Georgie and Simon.
“Blast it all, why don’t you watch where you’re going?” the rider shouted from his mount. “I nearly trampled both of you. Can’t see a damned thing in this storm.” Muttering what sounded like foreign profanities under his breath, he swung off his horse and came to land in front of Georgie and Simon.
He was tall and wore a magnificent, many-caped greatcoat. His hat had been the height of fashion before being ruined by the snow.
