The young man’s eyes remained unfocused. He was clearly still reeling from his head hitting the post.
She pressed her blade against his throat. “You would dare steal from me?”
His Adam’s apple moved above her blade. “I just wanted to feed me mum. We haven’t—”
“Arrêt!” Anthony’s voice rang out behind her.
At the demand to stop in French, she pulled her blade back a bit, but didn’t remove her dagger altogether. “Why should I stop?”
The soft swish of Anthony’s footfalls as he strode through the tall, dry grass toward them told her he was close, but she didn’t let her attention waver from the youth who would steal from her.
Anthony stopped just behind her culprit. “Let him go.”
“Let him go? Why? He thought to take my bread.” They should bring the young man before the magistrate or whatever law ruled the village. Or would it be Leighhall?
“Sister, do not forget where we were but three years past. What would you wish if you were caught in Talant?”
At the reminder of the night she’d almost been hauled off to prison for stealing a horse, she stilled. It wasn’t that she’d forgotten who she was, but more that she had returned to those days when fighting over a precious piece of pig meant the difference between going to bed hungry or with a half-full belly.
She looked into the youth’s eyes, which seemed able to focus now, and he appeared absolutely terrified.Mon Dieu. He was just a lad, as they said in England. Releasing her hold, she stepped back.
The young man didn’t move.
Slowly, so as not to scare him, she retrieved the bread from the ground where it had fallen, the dry grass keeping it away from the dirt and bugs. “Here.” She held it out to him. “I apologize. Sometimes I forget that I am not like you anymore.”
He eyed her suspiciously, no doubt expecting her to stab him when he reached for it, so she returned the dagger to the sheath beneath her sleeve. “Here. Take it. It’s for you. I can buy another.”
“She will not hurt you.” Anthony stepped up beside her. “She knows what it is to go hungry.”
Still, the young man didn’t move.
Anthony took the bread from her and held it out. “You may take this. Then tomorrow, go to the blacksmith. Tell him William recommended you. He is looking for someone willing to learn. Are you willing to learn?”
The youth nodded.
“Then take this for tonight, and tomorrow you can start buying your food instead of stealing it.”
The young man looked at her and back at Anthony, then finally grabbed the bread and spun around, running into the wood.
“Do you think he’ll go to the blacksmith?” She hoped the young man did, because he wasn’t very good at stealing.
“I don’t know. But better the blacksmith than Leighhall.”
She turned toward him at that. “You also learned that no one from this village will work there?”
“Yes.” Anthony moved to the well and lowered the bucket. “The man goes through servants rather quickly. From what I learned, he’s not in residence but one weekend a month, when he hosts a different kind of house party.”
Intrigued, she leaned her hip against the well and faced him as he dropped the bucket and slowly pulled it up. “What kind of house party?”
“Let us just say it is only partially a Society occasion.”
She cocked her head and stared at him. “Anthony, do not be so coy. Be plain with it.”
He pulled the bucket to the well wall and set it there, holding it as he answered. “Very well. It’s for men and their mistresses only.”
“That fits the man’s personality. From what I learned, his lack of respect for women includes his servants. He thinks because he employs them to cook and clean for him, it entitles him to touch them whenever he chooses. I imagine they quit after one of those weekends.”
Anthony’s brow lifted at that before he scooped the tin cup attached to the bucket into the water and offered it to her.
