The old man shuffled away. Lanora stepped into the space he’d vacated behind the table. The morning passed slowly as she tried to hand out food with a pleasant demeanor, and not think of Lord William.
Distracted as she was, it was still a notable surprise when one of the street urchins she usually fed outside appeared before her table. “You’ve come in for bread.” Lanora smiled a real smile, pleased she’d finally gained the trust of at least one of the boys.
“Lord Lefthook said you wasn’t trying to cart me off and I should come in and make sure I got bread for me and my mates, so I’ll be needing five loaves, Missus.”
He looked about nine, as ragged and ill-kempt as all the urchins. She wondered if he’d really spoken to Lord Lefthook about her. “You know I can only give you one. It’s the rule, with no exceptions.”
“His lordship said you would say that, too, but can’t I have just a few, Missus, for my mates?”
“You and Lord Lefthook are close, then?”
The boy’s eyes brightened. He leaned over the table. “We’re mates,” he whispered, his gaze darting about, seeking eavesdroppers. “He saved me life last night. He took a bullet right in the side. For me.” The boy made a dramatic gesture across his left side, along with a suitable, visceral grating, tearing sound.
“Did he?” Lanora was impressed, despite her inclination not to believe such silliness. “Well, that was grand of him, wasn’t it? Then you two discussed me?”
The boy nodded. He puffed out his chest. “Was a long walk back to where he had to go, me helping him. We had a right cheery conversation. Bout all sorts of things. Me and him, like mates.”
“Where he had to go? Where was that?”
He shook his head. “I can’t say, and you can’t say to no one that I told you any of that, or they’ll try to beat it from me.” He looked suddenly scared. “Can I have my bread, Missus? You won’t say what I said to no one, will you? Lord Lefthook said you’re a good sort.”
Lanora composed her face into a solemn expression, though at least half of what the boy said was obviously flattery to get more bread. He’d likely sell it to his so-called mates. “I will not tell a soul.” She held out two loaves. “If you can hide one of these right quick, so people see you walk out with only one, you may have both.”
He snatched them up with a grin, one disappearing under his loose, ragged shirt, reinforcing her fear she’d been had. “Thank you, Missus. His lordship was right about you.”
Lanora shook her head, but she couldn’t be angry with the boy. Surely, he needed the extra coin the bread would bring him.
Peering out the door told her the line was almost gone, which was good because her supplies nearly were as well. The last person through the door was Mrs. Banke. Her eyes darted about in a way similar to the boy’s as Lanora handed her a plump purse. She peered inside, a smile making her thin face almost pretty.
“Thank you, Missus.” Mrs. Banke hugged the coins to her chest. “This is more than I’d hoped to get. It’s a great help to me and my girl.”
“Then I am glad.” Lanora gathered up the few remaining loaves.
“You didn’t tell no one, did you?”
She shook her head. These poor people, living in a world where getting the least bit ahead meant you had to fear every passerby. “I didn’t breathe a word.”
“Thank you, Missus.”
Lanora held out a loaf. Mrs. Banke took it, clutching it nearly as tightly as the coins. Ducking her head, she scuttled away.
Lanora went outside, unsurprised to see the band of urchins lurking near the church, watching. What was striking was that many held small bits of bread, gnawing on them while they waited. The boy who’d come in was with them, hands empty. He grinned at her.
Bemused, Lanora set the six extra loaves of the day on the church steps. The boys didn’t even wait for her to turn away before starting to inch forward. Wanting to reassure them, she left.
Heading toward the few rickety hired hackneys waiting in front of the church, Lanora pressed her lips together. Despite Mrs. Banke and the boy with his trust and his tale about Lord Lefthook, her mind would not give up dwelling on Lord William. She should go home, read, and never think of him again.
Instead, she hired one of the hackneys to take her to the address her footman had supplied. Lord William’s mistress’s home. Lanora wasn’t sure what she would find there, but she felt almost driven to set eyes on the place. Maybe she would see this woman who so closely held Lord William’s attention. Or, as it was still early for a gentleman, perhaps he would come stumbling out at some point, and she could confront him.
Recalling what her footman said about someone else watching Lord William, Lanora had the driver stop short of her destination. That seemed to suit him. He looked nervous to be in so nice an area, or maybe it was dropping a woman off on the street dubbed Mistress’s Row.
She approached the intersection carefully, peering around the corner. The structure she sought was a perfectly lovely, if nondescript, townhouse. Curtains obstructed any view through the windows. Though that was normal, Lanora couldn’t contain her suspicion. She glared at the building. Inside was a woman Lord William would rather spend time with than her.
Lanora pried her eyes away. She looked up and down the street. Across from the townhouse, a man lounged against a lamppost. He yawned. His garb was unremarkable, but his presence suspicious. It was obvious he had nothing to do but watch.
She settled against the corner and watched as well. At first, she worried the man would see her. It would be terribly embarrassing to be reported watching Lord William’s mistress’s home, but he never turned.
After about an hour, the day grew warm as the morning fog burned away to reveal a cloudless blue sky. Lanora was bored beyond endurance, and growing tired. After two hours, she was resolved. If the man watched, Lord William remained inside. Lanora would see him exit with her own eyes and try to catch a glimpse of the woman within. Surely, she would bid him farewell at the door. It seemed he was quite passionate about her, after all.
