“Don’t get to close to the edge,” she warned the boy as he vigorously hurled the bread at the poor ducks.
Ruby felt a tingling sensation and turned to find a man watching her. Not overly tall, but broad shouldered. He was dressed like Mr. Robins did, in a suit and hat, but not of the class of the noblemen on the blanket behind her. His eyes were focused on her intently. Ruby turned away, and when she looked back, he’d gone.
A chill passed through her. Why had he been watching her?
“Ruby, I got one!”
“You are not aiming for them, Toby. You are feeding them.”
Dismissing the man from her mind, she focused on the boy, and not the large disturbing man seated on a blanket just a few feet away with a group of people who in the normal course of life would never meet.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Forrest could see Ruby from where he sat conversing with Mr. Winston. She was laughing as Toby threw bread at ducks. The boy wasn’t tossing pieces gently; no, he was running down the bank and hurling them. She had a hold on his jacket and was telling him to be gentle in between laughing. At least she’d relaxed now.
She’d looked ready to faint when they first approached. Clearly, she did not think his party and hers should be mixing, which was true, but his family was in no way normal.
Why had she been on that street last night looking terrified? Pale, and if his guess was accurate, shaking. She’d been horrified when she saw him and his cousins.
She’d run away before he could stop her. He’d worried the entire way home about her.
Looking at her friends, all of whom lived with her, he wondered if he could get information out of them that she was not likely to give him.
Mr. Winston was intriguing, as was Mrs. Chen. He and his family had chatted with them. Miss Kent, who had looked ready to expire when he first spoke to her, now appeared more relaxed.
They were an odd mix.
“Are there more of you in the Knight family, Adam?”
The question came from Daniel, who was sitting with the boy with Ella on his lap. Forrest loved that his daughter had so many uncles and aunties.
“There are more of us, but we do not live with them. My family does not live in London.”
“He lives with us,” Mrs. Chen said in her heavily accented English. “There are many of us in Nobby Lane. It is a wonderful place to live and call home.”
His eyes went from Adam and the walking sticks he used to his sister. The memory of that night six months ago slipped into his head. The hackney he’d been in had knocked a boy down. Looking closely at Adam, he was shocked to realize it was him.
“He is like Zach,” Abby said from beside him.
“Pardon?”
“Toby is like Zach.”
Abby was beautiful and sweet with a backbone of steel, which he was sure she’d needed being the only sister among the strong-minded Devilles.
“Yes, Daniel is a great deal gentler.”
“For the most part,” Abby conceded. “But not always.”
She knew a little of his past, but not all. The love Daniel Dillinger felt for his wife and child was evident in his every look and touch.
“She is nice, your Miss Knight.”
“Ella’s Miss Knight,” he added.
Abby turned to look at him; he saw the Deville blood in her eyes and coloring.
“I’ve never asked you about life before you came to England, cousin.”
