But how could he not? Since bringing her into his home, he couldn’t get her off his mind. And ever since he realized he loved her, all he wanted to do was hold her and talk about their future. He really didn’t care about her past. Not anymore. She had been a thief, but he knew it wasn’t by choice. A person like Louisa would have been forced to live in such a vile way to survive. Circumstances in her life had led her down the wrong pathway to a man like Macgregor. A man Trevor would like to meet face-to-face just so he could give the beast the beating he deserved for whipping Louisa like he’d done.
From the corner of his eyes, a lad—perhaps in his twelfth year or so—stood against a tree, trying his hardest not to act like he watched Trevor closely. Because of what happened with David, Trevor knew to be wary of pickpockets. And this boy was too suspicious.
Trevor slowed as he walked by the boy, almost hoping the vagabond would try to steal. As Trevor passed, he was almost disappointed when the lad didn’t even try.
But when shuffling footsteps snuck behind him, Trevor wanted to grin. He’d teach this vagabond a lesson.
Just as the footsteps quickened and the boy brushed by him, Trevor snatched the boy’s arm, stopping his hand as it began its descent into Trevor’s pocket.
He glared into the vagabond’s wide eyes. “I would not attempt that if I were you.”
Color left the boy’s dirty face quickly and he struggled to pull away. “Please, m’lord. Don’t turn me in. I’m hungry, is all. I need money for food.”
Trevor’s heart twisted upon hearing the lad’s plea, and he couldn’t help but imagine Louisa when she was younger and doing this. The day he’d hit her with his vehicle, she’d look so much like this boy—ratted hair, tattered overcoat, fingerless gloves. “Where are your parents?”
“I… don’t have any, m’lord.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Pardon me?” Confusion creased the boy’s forehead and narrowed eyes.
“Do you work for Macgregor?” Trevor demanded, not wanting to play any more games. The vagabond’s face lost even more color—if that were possible—and Trevor knew he’d received his answer. “I will let you go on one condition.”
The lad gulped and nodded slowly. “What is that?”
“You tell me where I can find Macgregor.”
“Oh, no… no, m’lord. I cannot do that. If he ever found out—” Tears welled in his eyes. “I’d rather go to the gaol, m’lord.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Once again, Trevor’sheart twisted for this frightened child. No wonder Louisa was such an emotional mess now. Macgregor was torturing poor, defenseless children, and someone needed to stop the man. Trevor was determined to bethatperson.
“If you will just tell me where Macgregor is, I will see to it that he never hurts you again.”
The lad shook his head. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s smart, and he’s dangerous.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that. I know a woman who used to work for him. By chance, do you remember Louisa?”
The boy’s eyes darted around, as if looking for someone. Trevor also scanned the area, wondering if another vagabond might be lurking about. When he didn’t see anyone, he looked back at the boy whose eyes were wider than before.
“Aye, I know Louisa.”
Trevor’s heartbeat picked up a notch. Kneeling in front of the boy, he grasped both—very thin—shoulders. “Please tell me what you know about her. She’s lost some of her memory, and I’m trying to help her get it back. Any information you have will be helpful.”
“Well, I don’t know…”
“I shall give you some food,” Trevor added quickly then nodded toward his landau. “I will take you wherever you want to go. Please help me. Help Louisa.”
He couldn’t believe he’d been reduced to begging, but right now he didn’t enjoy feeling helpless when it came to that special woman.
“Aye, I can tell you a little.”
Trevor jumped to his feet and escorted the boy toward the landau. His footman opened the door. Trevor instructed his driver to take them posthaste to the bakery. After Trevor and the boy climbed inside, the footman closed the door.
“What is your name?” Trevor asked.
“Norman Boyd, m’lord.”
