The tension-filled air grew more fraught.
“Jervis? That basterd ain’t dead yet?” Rory groused.
“Man has friends in ’igh places,” Benny said.
Harlowe started, and his horse reacted. He reined in his mount. The shadowy images in his head from a few weeks before edged in. Three, maybe four people, but he couldn’t make them out. Who were they? Where were they?
“That so, Benny? Wot about the gel,” Rory said.
“There be lots o’ gels, guv. Gels can be bought for two, three a ha’penny.”
And wasn’t that a disgusting truth. Harlowe clenched his fingers around the ribbons. His horse danced again, reminding him to loosen his grip.
“We think this gel is young. ’Er sister’s young. Their ma died givin’ birth. Any ’elp be worth yer while. ’Er name’s Mellie, the sister said.”
One of the smaller boys stepped forward. “Wot’s the sister’s name?”
Harlowe shifted on his horse, his senses sharply alerted. “Penny,” he said, squinting into the dark.
The boy moved into sight and pulled off his cap. “I be Mellie. Ye gots me sister?”
Harlowe’s heart pounded, but he smiled at the girl. “She has a new dress and has requested one for you,” he said softly.
There was a lengthening pause before she said, “I’ll go. But ye best not be lyin’ to me.”
Harlowe turned his attention back to the tallest boy. “You the leader of this horde of rabble, Benny?”
“Aye, wot’s it to ye?”
Harlowe tugged out a handful of coins and handed them over. “Feed your flock, Benny. I thank you for your help.” He held out his hand. “Come on up, Mellie.”
When she hesitated, Benny shoved her in the shoulder. “Go on, Mellie. Don’ be a fool, chit. This be yer shot out o’ hell.”
Mellie’s hand was tiny in his massive paw. She weighed but a feather, and she reeked of the worst sediments of the Thames. Nothing hot water and soap wouldn’t cure, he told himself, trying unsuccessfully not to inhale.
“Let’s go home, Mellie. You’ve a new mother awaiting you.”
The gang of children melded back into the night without a sound.
Harlowe and Rory turned their horses towards Cavendish Square.
Silence reigned for a time.
“Is this new mum yer ladywife?”
“Yes.”
“So, that makes ye me new papa?”
Harlowe considered her words carefully, a little stunned by them. “Why, yes, I suppose it would.”
“I ain’t ne’er had no papa b’fore.”
“It won’t be easy,” he assured her. “I shall be quite stern. Regular schooling, bed at a decent hour, and the like.”
“Schooling?” Shocked awe met his ears. “Ye mean likes readin’ and such.”
He grinned, knowing she couldn’t see. “Yes, indeed.” He opened his mouth to tell Rory they would go in through the kitchens but changed his mind. “Lead us to the front entrance, Rory.”
