“You’ve already made me so happy by allowing me to marry Marjorie,” Percival spoke more softly this time, both realizing that it would not do well for her reputation for someone to overhear them discussing her. Once their upcoming marriage was announced, they would be able to discuss such things in public.
Their conversation quickly led in other directions. Alexander inquired about Percival’s family and their wellbeing, about their latest endeavors and the like. By the time Alexander had finally decided to take his leave, he realized it was too late to call upon Marjorie or even to drop by the inn to check on the children. Besides, he did not wish to do it without her, for without her everything lacked essence. It was still a good deed, one he enjoyed and one that brought him a sensation of happiness, but without her it was significantly diminished.
He bid his friend good evening and returned home. Tomorrow, he would seize his chance to spend the entire day with her. One last day before Percival decided to pay her a call and reveal his intentions.
Chapter 17
Alexander was woken up by loud knocking on the door to his bedchamber. He opened his eyes, thinking that perhaps his dreams had merged with reality, but another bout of knocking assured him it was not so. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, eyeing the room for his banyan. Immediately upon finding it, he wrapped it around his body, tightening the silk belt around his waist, then walked over to the door.
Upon opening it, he was welcomed by Collin’s unusually worried face. “I am dreadfully sorry to disturb you so early, my lord, but there is a little boy here to see you.”
“A little boy?” Alexander grimaced, sleep still lurking in the corners of his consciousness. For a moment, he thought he was still asleep, and this was nothing but a dream. Why else would Collins be announcing a small boy come to see him early in the morn? It was so ridiculous it had to be a dream. But another glance at Collin’s wrinkled face proved he was indeed wide awake.
“He claims he comes bearing news of Miss. Leeson, and he– “
“Marjorie?” Alexander interrupted him. He must be one of the children from the inn. The mere fact that he was here instead of her was enough to cause alarm inside his mind. “Where is the boy?”
“I bid him wait in the main corridor, my lord.”
“Take me to him at once.”
Collins headed down the winding staircase first, followed by the master of the house. Alexander did not even have time to put on his slippers, and instead felt the cold wooden flooring of his grand mansion, but not even that prevented him from rushing to hear the news that the boy came to bring him.
Immediately upon descending the stairs, Alexander noticed him. It was the same boy who dared to shake his hand in a gesture of manly gratitude. He was standing exactly where he was bid to, his dirty little hat in his hands, all wrinkled. There was a large hole on his left trouser leg so that his entire knee peered out of it. Small scrapes which were starting to heal were clearly noticeable.
The boy raised his head in the direction where the sound was coming from, and their eyes met. The boy lowered his gaze immediately, as a sign of respect. “Milord,” the boy greeted him, unwilling to lift his gaze back up.
“Thank you, Collins, that will be all,” Alexander dismissed his butler, who as always, disappeared without a trace within a matter of seconds. “Hello, young man,” Alexander greeted him back courteously. “I’ve been told you come bearing news of my friend Marjorie.”
“Yes,” the boy nodded, his gaze still fixated on his own feet. Only then did Alexander notice that he was wearing only one shoe. The other foot was wrapped up in two, dirty socks.
“You may look at me when you address me,” Alexander urged gently.
The boy hesitated, as if he still weren’t convinced that it was all right, but he eventually gave in. His dark eyes fell upon Alexander’s, reading them, piercing through the surface. Alexander wondered if such children were able to see things that most other people did not, for the eyes never lied. The eyes were, after all, the windows to a man’s soul.
“Now, tell me what happened.”
“Miss Marjorie fell down the stairs at the inn,” the boy shook as he spoke. It was obvious that the mere memory of what happened put him in much distress.
Alexander’s eyes widened in shock. The thought of having something happen to Marjorie far outweighed his hurt at having her marry someone else.
“Is she all right? Is she hurt?” he asked, breathless, afraid of what the answer might be.
“She ain’t fallen from the top, luckily,” the boy continued, his both hands now twisting the hat in his hand, as if trying to wring it dry. “Only the last few steps, but seems she twisted ‘er leg.”
“Her ankle?” Alexander inquired, as his heart slowly reestablished the usual rhythm instead of the frantic one, he had been subject to in the last several moments.
“That upper part of the foot, milord,” the boy nodded.
Alexander sighed with relief. “I think we still need to have a doctor look at her, just to be on the safe side.”
“I reckon so, milord,” the boy agreed, his dirty blonde curls falling over his eyes. He was in desperate need of a haircut, and a bath. And he needed some new clothes, too.
“What is your name?” Alexander wondered.
“Jonathan,” he replied. “But everyone calls me Tiny, on account of me being so small.”
He was indeed small, Alexander thought. His manner of speech belonged to a much older boy than he appeared to be. That could only mean that he was small-statured for his age. Now, his nickname only proved it.
