They followed like a string of ducklings, weaving between the brave souls still out in the bitter wind. Some of them paused to peer into shop windows or comment on a passing carriage. Mungo and Calder kept their eyes fixed on Eliza’s slim back as she navigated the crooked lanes.
The circumstances she’d endured had made her strong,but Mungo had seen the cracks. The shadows in her eyes she tried so hard to hide.
She turned left, then a right, a second left, and then stopped, her head turning as she attempted to remember which way to go next.
“Left,” Mungo said.
Alex looked at him. “How is it you know that?”
“He does have that thing,” Ellen said, joining her brother to stare at him.
“You still have the voices?” Calder asked.
Everyone turned to look at him as one and stared at Mungo.
“Voices?” Leo said with deceptive calm. “What voices?”
“My brother has voices that tell him things like directions and alert him to?—”
“Enough, Calder,” Mungo ordered.
But his brother had never taken direction well. “He saved our mother once from a fire,” he continued. “The lamp in her bedroom had tipped while she slept.”
“Calder,” he warned.
“You hear voices?” Alex demanded. “All this time, and you’ve never said a word.”
Bram was scowling now.
“You lot have the abilities, not I,” he protested.
“God’s blood, yet another secret. In all the time I’ve known you, I just thought you were devilishly lucky to always avoid danger and had an excellent sense of direction.”
“Bram, I don’t hear them all the time. Rarely, in fact?—”
“Christ, he’s one of us,” Alex said.
“Makes sense, really,” Ellen said with a smile. “We’ve always known he was special.”
And just like that, one of them had humbled him again. He’d not told them so many things about his life, and stillthey would accept and forgive him. Perhaps it would take a while with Bram, however. He was glaring at Mungo.
“I find I quite like the fact you are like us,” Alex said.
“I’m not. ’Tis minor in comparison,” he assured them. “And now is not the time to discuss this further.”
They all nodded their agreement and moved on. But Mungo felt Eliza’s eyes on him. He resisted the urge to look at her.
“It’s down there,” she said seconds later, pointing a gloved finger to the right where a narrow lane started.
Scars lay under that glove. Mungo would need to speak with Mr. Greedy about them. He may have a salve to stop the pain.
“Right then, let’s take tea,” Alex said, chewing a piece of toffee.
The tea shop sign swung in the wind, the painted teapot on it chipped, the lettering faded almost into illegibility.
“I think Miss Downing needs to speak to the Holton Agency people, and we will take tea,” Bram said. “You lot”—he waved at his niece and nephews—“see what you can pick up. Come, Calder.”
“I’ll be Polly Watts’s brother,” Gray said.
