![]() ![]() “This way.” Jemmie led them into a room that was cramped, but infinitely cleaner than Barnaby had expected. Even inside, if he stood straight the top of his curls came uncomfortably close to the peeling ceiling. Barnaby followed, ducking beneath the lintel. Penelope rose, eased the door wider, and followed Jemmie into the short hall. After examining him for a moment more, Jemmie edged back from the door. “Yes.” Barnaby left it at that, the simple truth. He studied her face, then glanced up at Barnaby. Jemmie stared into her eyes, then blinked rapidly. We’re here to reassure her-to tell her that we’re definitely going to be looking after you, and that she’s not to worry.” Moving slowly, Penelope crouched down so her face was level with Jemmie’s. She don’t need to hear anything more to worry her.” “If’n you’re here to tell her you can’t take me after all, you can just go. His small face tightened, holding worry and fear close. Jemmie’s lips quivered he pressed them tight to still them. “We know she’s not very well at all, but it’s important that we speak with her.” Jemmie studied her and Barnaby with large unblinking eyes. We wondered if we might speak with your mother.” Smile brightening, she explained, “I’m the lady from the Foundling House.” Waving at Barnaby, she added, “And this is Mr. When he didn’t respond-didn’t open the door wider-but remained staring warily up at her-and at Barnaby beyond-she realized that with the lack of light, he couldn’t see her well enough to recognize her. “Jemmie.” She smiled, pleased her memories had been accurate. At first she thought it had come unlatched of its own accord, but then she glanced down and spotted the narrow, pinched face of a child peering out from the darkness within. The door cracked open with a protesting creak. It was that or succumb, and that she’d never do. While they waited for a response, she swore she would-without further delay-find some way to overcome Barnaby Adair’s effect on her. “This is it.” Halting before it, she raised her free hand and rapped smartly. Teeth gritted against the sensation of his fingers-long, strong, and warm-wrapped about her elbow, his grip, firm and uncompromisingly male, distracting her in ways she hadn’t imagined possible, Penelope uttered a small prayer of relief when she recognized Mrs. He steadied Penelope as she picked her way along. The street had once been cobbled, but few stones remained. No breeze stirred the heavy miasma of smells. The air hung oppressively close no sun could reach between the overhanging eaves to warm the dank stones and rotting timbers. It had been gloomy in Bloomsbury, but as they entered the narrow passage a depressing darkness closed in. She couldn’t complain the cause lay at her door. He wasn’t letting go of her, not in this area if he did she’d sweep ahead, expecting him to follow in her wake-from where he wouldn’t be able to see trouble looming until after she walked into it. He guided her to it, then escorted her along, ignoring her narrow eyes and the thin-lipped looks she cast him. She pointed to the second opening yawning on their right. “Which miserable alley” would have been more accurate. Releasing Penelope’s hand only to grip her elbow, he faced south. The man met his eye, read the message therein, and tapped the bill of his cap. He glanced around, then moved to the side, giving her his hand as she descended and joined him. Meeting Penelope’s gaze with a narrow-eyed look, Barnaby opened the door and stepped down. “Far as I can go,” the jarvey called down. The carriage entered Arnold Circus, then drew in to the side of the narrow street. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |