She shook her head. “I got jumped heading toward Seven Dials.”
“The money.” He never should have let her or her stolen wallet out of his sight.
“No, they didn’t even know I had any. It was the hamper they were after—the food.”
He sat back, horrified. Someone would attack a girl forfood?A few more blows to the head and they might have killed her. All over a bit of meat and bread.
“Oh, Eliza.” He brought a hand up to trace the swollen knot just above her eye. She winced, but did not shy away from his touch.
Mark couldn’t leave her here. He couldn’t abandon her to the streets. She might be tough, but this young woman was in no condition to be wandering the city and sleeping out of doors.
“Are you under arrest?” he asked. He turned to the desk sergeant, who lingered in the doorway. “Is she under arrest?”
The fellow answered, “No, though we did wonder how she came to be in the possession of a hamper from Fortnum & Mason…”
Eliza glared at the policeman as she explained to Mark, “They asked me to fill out a report. I had to make a statement.”
She was the victim of a crime who had the misfortune of being poor, yet Scotland Yard was concerned about a food hamper? It was unconscionable! Thank God she wasn’t being detained!
“So you’re free to leave, then.” He stood and fished his card case from his breast pocket. He flipped it open and held out his card for the sergeant. “If you’ve any more questions for Miss Summersby, direct them to my address.”
“Very good, sir,” the desk sergeant said, showing himself out.
Mark turned his attention back to Eliza. She was smiling through the pain.
“What, girl?”
She laughed a little. “I told him my name was Smith.”
Yes, she would lie to the coppers, wouldn’t she? He offered her his hand. It took her some effort to stand. Even on his arm, she wasn’t steady.
“Can you walk? I’ve a hansom outside. I shall take you back to Green Street. You’ll be safe there.”
He helped her down the narrow corridor. It would have been easier to carry her, but he knew the girl had her pride. Arm-in-arm, they limped through the station house with their heads high.
Out on the pavements, he did lift her into the hansom.
She sat back into the threadbare squabs. Her shoulders bumped his. “I’m sorry I sent for you. I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
“It’s not a problem, Eliza. I am glad you thought of me.”
“The coppers said you work for the Bank of England. I didn’t realize you were so important.”
He shrugged. “I’m not so important that I cannot help a friend in need.”
“Are we friends now?” she asked.
“I suppose we’ll have to be.”
CHAPTER SIX
There wasn’t a part of her that did not hurt. Every time the cab lurched or hit a rut in the road, Eliza bit back the pain. She could not show Sir Mark van Bergen how weak she truly was.
What a little fool she’d been to drag his hamper through the streets. She had intended to share it with some orphaned children she knew, but had been set upon before she made it to Seven Dials.
She’d fought like the devil, but in the end, she’d given up her bread and meat. She’d given up the fine hamper that she’d hoped to display in her own rooms someday. It had reminded her of Mark and his kindness, and Eliza had wept to see it go.
Thank God, she still had her pocketbook. No one would have suspectedherto have fifteen hundred pounds stashed in her skirts. As soon as she found a safe place to hide the money, she’d rent a room somewhere far from these bloodthirsty streets.
