As Lucy strolled with her family along the string of shops on Oxford Street, the little girl grasping Henry’s hand peered up at her father while holding her nose.
“Edward smells bad.”
Lucy leaned toward the smiling infant in her arms and sniffed. Henry grinned. “And what is the verdict, Mrs. Beaumont?”
“It seems your son has soiled himself. His sister is quite correct. Edward smells bad.”
“Itoldyou,” Margaret said precociously. Lucy marveled that a four-year-old could so master the art of dramatic emphasis.
“I suppose that means our little shopping expedition must end prematurely,” said Henry.
“I suppose you are correct, as you sometimes are, despite your best efforts to be wrong.”
His mouth twisted into a half grin. “Nobody’s perfect.”
They began the return trip to Huntington House on Grosvenor Street. They had covered only a dozen steps when Lucy sensed the telltale pressure of someone lifting her purse. She clutched her son tightly and pivoted sharply to catch a middle-aged man passing the stolen purse to a female accomplice. Recognition dawned immediately.
“Mr. Bevins! Is that you?”
Both pickpockets froze and stared at her with alarm. Then the man’s eyes went wide. “Miss Locket! I did not know it was you! If I had known it was you, I would never have…”
He spun to the female accomplice. “Return the purse to the lady immediately.”
The woman hesitated with obvious confusion. “But…”
Bevins snatched the purse from his accomplice’s startled hands, bowed humbly, and extended it toward Lucy. She accepted it gently.
“I am sorry, miss,” he said with genuine apology. “Please forgive me. I did not know it was you.”
She smiled warmly at the startled man. “I forgive you, Mr. Bevins. After all, it was you who taught me how to detect a liar. I have been able to put that skill to good use these days.”
“Thank you, Miss Locket. Sorry, Miss Locket.”
“Mr. Bevins, you old cutpurse. It is monstrously good to see you again. However, I suggest you choose a new career. You would not want Sir Steadman to be set on your trail, would you?”
“No, m’lady.” He bowed repeatedly while backing away. “Thank you, m’lady. I will carefully consider a new line of work, m’lady.”
The man snatched his companion’s wrist when he reached her, whirled about, and moved briskly away through the crowd.
“Humph,” Lucy said. She turned back to her family. “What a fortuitous encounter.”
Henry just shook his head at her, a wry smile gracing his features. Margaret peered up at her father. “Who was that man?”
“He was a thief who stole your mother’s purse.”
“Why did the man return it?”
He laughed and swept amused eyes toward his wife. “Because your mother is fierce and adept with a sword.”
Lucy frowned at Henry with bemused disagreement. Margaret switched her gaze to her mother with shining eyes. Then she tugged her father’s jacket.
“Yes, Margaret?”
“When I grow up, can I be fierce and ’dept with a sword, too?”
Henry threw back his head and laughed deeply. “My dear, I would have it no other way.”
The little girl beamed up at him. “Good.”
