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Florence held out her hand. “I kept two. Torie says that the bunny was probably not fed properly, so we’re going to give him better food and then compare.”

Dominic frowned at the squished brown pellets. He evidently disapproved, but once a child was covered with muck, Torie didn’t see that a few rabbit pellets made a difference.

“I gather Odysseus now has a family name?” Dominic asked.

“Odysseus is too grand, given his funny ears,” Valentine said. “We’re calling him Oddie, because he is.” He had taken the rabbit from his cage again, and he was stroking him between his ears. “Oddie likes this. See how his eyes close? Perhaps his mother licked him just here.”

“Who were those men, and why didn’t you come with us?” Florence asked. “Simons took us out the back door of the hutch.”

“Obviously, Father had to buy the baby rabbits,” Valentine answered. “Didn’t you hear what that man said about broth? I’m very glad, because the hut was not a salubrious atmosphere. Salubrious is—”

“I do know that word, Val, thank you,” Torie said. “I agree with you. Perhaps we can set the mother rabbit and her babies free in Green Park. The park has a wild wood, so likely they can make friends.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Florence pronounced. “Oddie must stay with us, though. He has no family, because all his siblings were sold. He was left behind.”

“Which means he wasn’t made into broth,” her brother pointed out. “He’s the lucky one.”

“Look, he’s gone to sleep.” The rabbit was nestled down, his nose hidden in the crook of Val’s arm.

“I should like both of you to sit on the seat rather than the floor, like proper gentlefolk,” Dominic said.

Perhaps that was why children were raised by two parents. After one person wearied of educating young heathens, the other could step in.

When the twins were both seated, their heads bent over the sleeping bunny, Torie slid toward Dom until she fitted against him like a puzzle piece.

“Are you truly all right?” she whispered. “Was that your blood?”

He shook his head. “Not a drop.”

“I’m deeply sorry that I ever suggested Smithfield. I’ve only been to market fairs at home, where you can buy cows, but also whistles and rattles. I thought we could buy a doll for Florence and hear a ballad or two. We could watch acrobats or a pantomime, have some gingerbread, and come home with a rabbit.”

“My fault as much as yours,” Dominic said, shaking his head. “I believed Smithfield would be filthy and thought we might encounter a pickpocket at most. Not outright criminals.”

Torie didn’t realize she was clutching her middle until Dominic lifted away her hand and started rubbing comforting circles on her tummy.

“I put us in danger,” she whispered.

“No more than I did. Next time, we’ll go to Bartholomew Fair, where we can buy gingerbread and dolls, as well as watch a pantomime.”

“I’m not sure about London markets after this,” Torie said dubiously.

“We had bad luck. The rabbit hutch was isolated from the crowd surrounding the cattle sales, which emboldened those men.”

“I believe they were acquaintances of that horrid Crouch,” Torie said. “We saw him outside, in the back.”

Dominic suddenly stilled. “Did he attempt to detain you?”

“Simons went out first, and Crouch was waiting. You must give him a reward, Dom. Simons knocked him down with a terrific blow on the jaw, kicked him around the corner, and then led the children out as if nothing had happened. They had no idea.”

“Crouch was nowhere to be seen when I let all his rabbits out.”

Torie nestled even closer, thinking that if she had to fall in love—an uncomfortable sensation, so far—she hadn’t chosen badly. “Your father let all the bunnies go free,” she said to the twins.

“Brava!” Florence cried, throwing her hands in the air.

“No, bravo!” Valentine corrected. “He is male.”

“Will you return to the House of Lords?” Torie asked, under cover of a spirited discussion of Latinate gendered interjections.