“Your name?”
Again, nothing.
“A constable might assist us. Or a doctor, since you seemed to have lost your ability to talk.”
“We can’t leave. Not yet.” His hurried words were succinct and, though he was young, educated. So he wasn’t from the streets.
“And why is that?”
Something nudged the carriage and his small frame seemed to heave a huge sigh of relief.
The carriage shook again, and Rebecca knew that Barrett had taken care of whatever it was that had shaken the conveyance in the first place. The door opened and Barrett held up an identical version of the child sitting across from her.
“Good heavens,” she breathed. “There are two of you?” She shook her head. “Toss him in, Barrett.”
Naturally, Barrett set the child gently to his feet inside and shut the door. The boy took his place next to his brother and they clasped hands.
She glanced at the first boy. “I take it he is what, rather who, we were waiting on?”
He nodded.
“Let us start again. Your names, if you please.”
Boy number one did the talking. “I’m Oliver and this here’s my brother Owen.”
“It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Lady Rebecca. Now, tell me. Where are we going?”
The boys looked at one another then back at her, their eyes wide.
Oliver, the apparent designated speaker, said, “We’d like to go home, please.”
“And where is home, pray tell?”
“Somerset, my lady.”
“Somer—” she sucked in a sharp breath. “Why, that is a two-day drive, young man. How on earth did you end up in London?”
Oliver’s mouth tightened into a line she was already starting to associate with what was a stubborn side of him.
Rebecca held a long breath, looking out the window, before letting it out. Owen had yet to utter a word. “Somerset.” She drummed her gloved fingers on her knee then faced them. “All right. I shall escort you to Somerset. You won’t mind if we locate some clean clothes for you?”
Oliver, or was it Owen? nodded.
“Will that dastardly man be chasing us?”
They looked at one another, then back at her. Oliver shook his head.
“That’s something anyway.” She lifted the trap. “The house, please, Barrett.”
The ride to 15 Berkley Square was a twenty minute drive due to the clogged streets. It would have been faster and more efficient to walk, but Rebecca didn’t trust that horrid man not to follow. At least with Barrett manning the carriage, she felt relatively safe. They pulled into the drive and stepped out. “See what you can locate in the way of decent clothes for the boys,” she told Barrett. “I’ve no idea where one finds clothing for growing boys. Perhaps tunics? Leading strings? I shall leave it to you. Then be ready to push on. We’ll leave for Somerset fairly soon after.”
“Of course, Lady Rebecca.”
A sense of intuition touched her and she leaned in, as if someone might overhear. “I think it wise to not publicize we are providing for two children rather than one.”
He nodded and clucked the reins.
Rebecca ushered her charges into the house. She stripped off her bonnet, handing it to Lars, the Rivers’ staidly butler. Her gloves came next and the atmosphere in the hall riddled in shock.
