Regency Surrender: Rebellious Debutantes: Lord Havelock's List / Portrait of a Scandal. ANNIE BURROWS
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He was scowling as he led the boy down the aisle. He didn’t slacken his hold on his collar, either. Which was probably wise. Who knew but if he let the lad go, he wouldn’t run straight back to whatever gutter he’d sprung from, and the associates who’d probably led him into his life of crime in the first place?
Damn Morgan for foisting this guttersnipe on him. Obliging him to leave, just when he was beginning to coax Miss Carpenter out of her shell.
Still, he supposed this little test had proved that she was capable of coming out of it when sufficiently roused. She’d been shaking like a leaf, but she’d managed to speak out against what was clearly a gross injustice.
For the sake of a child.
He pulled up short, turned and glanced back at her.
To find her gazing back at him, with a rapt expression on her face.
She hid it at once, by bowing her head and turning away, but he’d caught something in her look that had been encouraging. It was approval. And warmth. And, not to put too fine a point on it, something that verged on downright hero worship.
There would be no trouble getting to speak to her next time he paid a call. He could use the pretext of telling her how the boy had settled in to his new life. And take it from there.
‘I want me penny,’ said the boy, the moment they emerged from the great church door into the drizzle that they’d gone inside to escape.
‘Your what?’
‘My penny,’ said the boy. ‘That other cove said as how you’d give me a penny if I lifted his purse, then ran straight into you and let you catch me.’
‘I,’ said Havelock firmly, ‘am not going to give you a penny.’
‘I might have known. You swindler...’
‘I’m going to give you something better,’ he interrupted.
‘Oh, yeah?’ The boy’s face brightened.
‘Yes. I’m going to give you that job I promised. A man has to keep his word, you see? Especially when he gives it to a lady.’
Overnight the drizzle drifted away, leaving the sky cloudless. When the girls awoke, there was a layer of frosted ice on the inside of their bedroom window.
They shivered, red-nosed, into their clothes and rushed downstairs to the warmth of the parlour.
The moment she got downstairs though, Mary wished it wasn’t quite so cold in their room, or she could have found some excuse to stay there. For her aunt was still upset with her over what the girls had told her of their outing to Westminster Abbey.
‘I cannot think what came over you,’ said Aunt Pargetter as she poured Mary’s tea. ‘To have raised your voice to Mr Morgan...’
‘I am sorry, truly sorry, if my behaviour has offended you.’
‘It didn’t offend me,’ said Lotty, wrapping her fingers round the cup that contained her own, freshly poured, steaming hot tea.
‘Nor me,’ added Dotty. ‘I only wish I’d had the courage to speak up for the boy when that nasty verger threatened him with gaol. He couldn’t have been any older than Will.’
‘It wasn’t a matter of courage,’ Mary protested. She wasn’t a courageous person. Not at all. ‘I just...’ She shook her head. To be truthful, she had no idea why she’d picked that particular moment to finally speak her mind. She just... She’d had to endure so much, in silence, for so long. She knew what it felt like to have nothing. To be at the mercy of strangers. And yesterday, it was as though a lifetime of resenting injustice, of knowing that the strong naturally oppressed the weak and trampled down the poor for being of no account, all came to a head and erupted without, for once, her giving a fig for the consequences.
‘I just couldn’t help myself.’
‘I’m not denying you were right to feel as you did,’ said Aunt Pargetter. ‘But to risk driving away such an eligible suitor, by openly challenging him like that...’
‘Mary did just as she ought,’ said Mr Pargetter, folding up his newspaper and getting to his feet. ‘The consequences must take care of themselves.’
A tense silence hovered over the breakfast table after he’d left the room. Until Dotty cleared her throat.
‘You know,’ she said, ‘it didn’t do Mary any harm in Lord Havelock’s eyes.’
‘No,’ added Lotty. ‘He looked at her as though he thoroughly approved of her standing up for the boy.’
‘Hmmph,’ said her aunt. ‘Well, I suppose that is something.’
And though her aunt let the subject drop, the atmosphere remained tense throughout the rest of the morning, as they all waited to see if either of the gentlemen would call upon the house again.
Either Dotty or Lotty kept a vigil by the window, while Mary kept close to the fire, steadily working her way through a basket of mending.
Until at length, Lotty let out a squeal of excitement.
‘It’s him! Them! Both of them! They’ve just got out of their carriage!’
Her cousins rushed to the mirror to check their appearance, before dashing to the sofa and striking relaxed poses. Which were only slightly marred by the way their chests rose and fell so rapidly.
It puzzled Mary to see the girls greet Mr Morgan with such enthusiasm, when his callous behaviour the day before had shocked them all so much.
She could have understood it if they’d flown to Lord Havelock’s side, and showered him with praise, and pulled him down on to the sofa between them.
Instead, he was left standing just inside the door, watching them with a kind of amused disbelief.
Couldn’t they see how...superior he was to Mr Morgan, in every way? When she thought of the way he’d lifted that boy out of the verger’s reach...
Just as she was reflecting that she’d never seen a man use his physical strength to protect the defenceless before, he turned, caught her watching him and smiled at her.
Her stomach gave a funny little lurch. Her heart sped up.
She hastily lowered her head to stare at the sewing that lay in her lap.
She wasn’t interested in him, not in the way Lotty and Dotty were interested in Mr Morgan. She just...she just couldn’t deny it was flattering to have such a handsome, personable young man smile at her like that.
She hadn’t been able to forget the look he’d shot her as he’d left the Abbey with the pickpocket still held firmly by his collar, either. Or the feeling