"Thomas?" she called softly.
In a heartbeat Lucien had firmly grasped her arm, the moonlight glinting off the dagger he held in his hand.
"Wait here a moment," he commanded, his features oddly grim.
"No, Lucien. I will not be left behind."
Just for a moment he appeared poised to argue. It was obvious that he desired to keep her tucked away from danger. Then, noting her determined expression, he gave a resigned shake of his head.
"Very well," he conceded, "but remain behind me."
With a startling graceful movement Lucien slipped through the door, leaving Jocelyn to follow behind. She was careful to keep close, still bothered by that ominous sense of dread.
Ridiculous or not, it could not be shaken.
They had managed to enter the cavernous room and take several steps forward, when the familiar form of Thomas abruptly stepped in their path.
"'Ere, now. It be Miss Kingly's gentleman."
Lucien came to a smooth halt. "Good evening, Thomas. Is all well?"
An unexpected grin split the dirty, angular countenance. "I'd say. A bloke came earlier with a whole cartload of food."
"What bloke? "Jocelyn demanded, stepping from behind Lucien with a startled frown. For months she had been caring for these children, and never to her knowledge had another shown the slightest interest in their welfare.
"Oh, Miss Kingly." Thomas gave a cocky bow. "Evening to you."
Jocelyn's frown did not ease. "Who brought you the food, Thomas?"
The lad lifted a bony shoulder as he waved his hand toward a distant corner.
"He is over with Freddie."
Turning her head, Jocelyn slowly stiffened as she recognized the thin, balding man attired in black.
"Vicar Fallow," she breathed.
Almost as if hearing her soft words, the vicar slowly turned and regarded her from across the room. Even at such a distance the pale eyes seemed to chill her deep within. They glittered in the darkness with an unholy light, sending a rash of prickles over her skin.
Then she was sternly chastising her absurd fancy.
This gentleman had revealed nothing but generous kindness. First by chasing off the villains who had attacked her in the street, and now tonight, by offering starving children a much-needed meal.
She should be delighted with his appearance at the warehouse, not shuddering with distaste.
Keeping that thought firmly in mind, Jocelyn managed to conjure a smile as the vicar hurried across the floor to offer her a faint bow.
"Miss Kingly."
"Vicar," she murmured. "It was most kind of you to bring food to the children."
He moved his hands to his bony chest in a modest gesture. "I fear it is not much."
Jocelyn glanced to where the children greedily gorged themselves upon the large platters of food.
"It is far more than they had before."
"Perhaps." The vicar waited until Jocelyn returned her gaze to his thin countenance. "I only wish it were possible to take them away from such squalor. They should have homes with loving families."