Michael toyed with his nearly empty wineglass, a smile playing about his wide mouth. “Took the dagger away from him, that’s what. And when he lunged at me with his bare hands I grabbed him by the scruff o’ the neck and shook him. I might’ve simply tossed him into the Thames, but…”
He trailed off, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
“But you didn’t,” Silence supplied. “Why not?”
He glanced at her and finished the last gulp of wine. “Truth be told, he reminded me a bit o’ m’self, once upon a time. A ragged boy, alone and fightin’ for everythin’, even his next meal.”
Silence looked at her hands. He’d said he’d had a mother—and perhaps even a father. Why had he been alone, then? Her stomach cramped thinking of him, a pretty boy, fighting for something to eat.
It was as if he heard her thoughts. “Ah, never pity me, Silence, m’love.”
She looked up and saw his black eyes, his sardonic mouth, and the haunted memories in his face.
He nodded, toasting her with his empty wineglass. “Whatever trials and tribulations I may’ve had, they were deserved. Most well deserved, mind.”
“MICKEY O’CONNOR’S THE one behind our problems with gettin’ grain,” Freddy said.
Charlie looked up slowly from his supper. “Is he now?”
The information wasn’t surprising. For the last week his grain suppliers had either been strangely reluctant to sell or had already been all sold out of their grain supplies.
Charlie grunted. “You’ll have to find me new suppliers then.”
Freddy looked unhappy at the news.
“What else have you heard?”
“There’re soldiers in St. Giles,” Freddy said gruffly.
“What of it?” Charlie said as he forked up a bite of beef. It dripped gravy as he brought it to his mouth. “Soldiers are everywhere in London.”
“ ’Tis said these have been sent to clean St. Giles o’ thieves and murderers and other crime.”
“Have they?” Charlie sat back and glanced at his man. Freddy as usual was avoiding looking at his face—his gaze was focused mostly on Charlie’s full plate of food. “That’s interesting. Who sent them?”
Freddy frowned, digging furrows into his brow, which did not help his appearance any. “No one knows. They’ve been ridin’ about in pairs, catchin’ up anyone seen loiterin’ about. ’Course the smarter ones went to ground as soon as the soldiers rode in. They get mostly the old women who sell gin and the like.”
Charlie grunted. “Still, if they’re after gin sellers they’re bound to run into my business.” He tapped his knife on the edge of his pewter plate, thinking. “Be best if we can point them in another direction. A direction we choose.”
Freddy nodded slowly. “Where?”
A sudden thought appeared, fully formed in Charlie’s brain. He took it and examined it, peering at it from all sides.
And then he nodded. “At Charming Mickey’s heart.”
“MO’,” MARY DARLING cried the next morning.
Silence obediently bounced the baby on her knees, chanting a song about a horsey. It was so good to see Mary pink-cheeked and well again! But it was also exhausting entertaining the baby in only one small room.
“Mo’!” Mary urged as soon as Silence paused in the bouncing game. “Mo’! Mo’! Mo’!”
“Oh, sweetheart, I think the horsey is quite tired out,” Silence said as she put Mary down.
Mary fretted and then began making her way along the stuffed chair Silence sat on. She was heading to the fireplace, knowing full well that she was forbidden the alluring delights of the fire.
Silence pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and cast about for a distraction. “Here, Mary. What do you think of this?” She opened her sewing kit on the floor.
The baby quickly dropped to her hands and knees and crawled over.
“Yer lettin’ her play with yer needles?” Fionnula asked doubtfully from the door.
Silence looked up gratefully. “Oh, thank goodness, you brought tea. I was running out of things to do with her.”
“I can see that,” the maid said as she set down the tea tray.
“Well, it was better than the fireplace,” Silence muttered, extracting Mary’s busy fingers from a small skein of mending thread.
The thread was hopelessly tangled. Silence stared at it as Fionnula set the baby down and gave her some toast and a small cup of milk.
“Mary’s just so bored here,” Silence murmured. She was bored as well, she realized. Silence had spent the last several months running a busy orphanage, work that kept her occupied from sunup to well past sundown. She simply wasn’t used anymore to sitting and doing nothing.
On that thought she looked at Fionnula hopefully. “Is Mr. O’Connor at home today, do you know?”
“Saw him goin’ into his room just now.” Fionnula nodded at the connecting door.
“Really?” Silence rose and crossed to the connecting door and knocked.
The door was opened almost at once.
Michael leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, a wicked smile playing about his sensuous lips. He was so very big this close—every time it surprised her and made her breathless. “Well, now, and when did ye decide to start knockin’ at me door?”
Silence fought to keep her face from flaming as she remembered the last time she’d peeked through Michael’s door.
She swallowed. “We’re bored.”
“Is that so?” Michael glanced down.
Silence followed his gaze and saw that Mary had crawled over to investigate. The baby grabbed a handful of her skirt and stood up. She kept one hand on Silence’s skirt and popped two fingers from the other into her mouth as she stared solemnly at Michael.
“She looks a rare treat,” Michael said softly, watching the toddler.
Silence smiled down at Mary. “She does indeed.”
She glanced up and her heart squeezed at the gentle look on Michael’s face.
As if she understood she was the subject of conversation, Mary lifted her arms—to Michael. “Up!”
Michael arched an eyebrow. “Mouthy little thing, ain’t she?”
But he bent and lifted the toddler.
Mary Darling looked so small in his arms. The pirate cradled her body against his chest, her face on a level with his.
Mary stared into his eyes and then took her fingers out of her mouth and poked him in the chin.