Ahead of them, a ginger-haired boy was hanging upside down from the chandelier, his knees hooked around the heavy metal ring. Pippa recognized Teddy, the boy who’d fallen the last time.
“Look at me!” Teddy sang. “I’m an acrobat!”
“Have a care—” Pippa began.
But Teddy had already swung too far, his knees losing their grip, his small body plunging toward the ground. Pippa rushed forward, but Hawker got there first, plucking Teddy out of the air with a giant fist.
“Watch yourself, lad.” The burly man set the boy safely on the ground.
Teddy tilted his chin up…and up, taking in Hawker with big eyes. “Are you a pirate?”
“I’m a butler.”
“Can I ’ave your eye patch?”
“What do you want it for?”
Teddy angled his head. “I want to look as rough-an’-ready as you.”
Hawker grunted. “It’d take a lot more than an eye patch.”
“I ’ave a chipped tooth. See?” The boy pulled back his lips, showing the missing corner on one of his front teeth.
“Congratulations.”
“My name’s Teddy.”
Apparently unfazed by the non sequiturs, the butler said, “Hawker.”
Digging in his pocket, Teddy pulled out a lint-covered sweet that looked suspiciously used. “Do you want a treat?”
“You keep it. And the next time you’re on that light, hang by your hands, not your knees,” Hawker advised. “Less likely to bash in your noggin that way.”
As Fair Molly ushered their group on, leaving Teddy staring after Hawker as if the latter walked on water, Mrs. Peabody said severely, “You should not encourage such behavior, Hawker.”
The butler shrugged. “I ain’t encouraging it. But no point in trying to stop the tides, either.”
“It is dangerous,” the housekeeper insisted.
“Aye, and so is life. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t live, does it?”
Mrs. Peabody pinned her lips together and walked ahead, her skirts swishing with annoyance.
“You oughtn’t bait her so,” Pippa chided.
Hawker gave her an innocent look—as innocent a look as a one-eyed giant with a shaved head could muster. “Ain’t my fault she has her drawers in a constant twist.”
When they arrived at the parlor, Cull was there waiting, once again masked. His gaze sought Pippa out first, and her heart stuttered at the raw longing in his eyes. Memories of last night flooded her: they’d devoured one another and still wanted more. For a few precious hours, they’d found a private Eden. The smile that flickered on Cull’s mouth felt like a promise that they would return.
Then his eyes shuttered, and he was once again the Prince of Larks.
“Welcome.” He addressed the group. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”
The group found their seats around the battered coffee table. Flanking Cull were Long Mikey, Fair Molly, and two other mudlarks Pippa didn’t recognize: a boy built like a candlestick with a large head of spiky raven hair, and a man in his twenties who rivaled Hawker in size. A younger pair of larks served tea in chipped cups and offered the guests a plate of ginger biscuits.
Smiling her thanks, Livy took one of the biscuits. She bit in…and her eyes bulged in their sockets. Remembering what Cull had said about his cook, Pippa hurriedly passed her friend a handkerchief. Livy snatched it and brought it to her mouth, discreetly ridding herself of the evidence.
“We are convening today to discuss the latest developments,” Cull said.
