The Virgin Who Ruined Lord Gray - Anna Bradley Page 0,49
slammed the cell door open with a crash.
Miss Monmouth stiffened at the sound of Hogg’s voice. She’d been whispering to Jeremy, but now she rose to her feet. “Jeremy, I’ll be right back, sweetheart. I need to have a quick word with Mr. Hogg here. Perhaps Lord Gray would be kind enough to wait with you?”
Tristan’s gaze followed her as she and Hogg moved into the corridor, then he turned back to Jeremy, who was watching him with wide eyes. It was clear the boy couldn’t think of a single thing to say to an earl, and Tristan was equally at a loss.
“I’ve never talked to a lord much before,” Jeremy said at last, ducking his head shyly.
Tristan’s chest tightened. Someone had taught the boy his manners, but they were little enough use to him here. He opened his mouth to say something comforting—what, he hadn’t the faintest idea—but before he could get a word out, he heard raised voices coming from just outside the door of Jeremy’s cell.
Hogg was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, and Miss Monmouth was saying something to him, her words quick and urgent. Her shoulders sagged when Hogg’s face remained hard, but then she reached into the pocket of her skirt, pulled something out, and held it out to him.
Her silver locket. She stared down at it for a long moment, then offered it to Hogg.
Tristan watched, anger searing his veins as Hogg snatched it up, and turned it over in his hands to test its weight. Finally, he nodded.
A bribe for…something. Something she wanted badly enough she was willing to part with the locket once again. He’d seen the way she looked at it when he held it out to her yesterday, had heard the slight break in her voice when she’d told him it had belonged to her mother. He hardly knew her, and even he could tell how dear it was to her.
She turned her face away as Hogg stuffed it carelessly into his pocket. Tristan got a glimpse of her bleak expression before she schooled her features into the same calm cheerfulness with which she’d greeted Jeremy when they arrived.
That one glimpse was enough.
When she joined Tristan and Jeremy again, she wore a bright, false smile on her lips. “I have good news for you, sweetheart. Mr. Hogg says you don’t need to wear the irons anymore, and you’re to have some broth, and a blanket.”
Tristan stood silently next to her as she related this welcome news, the knot in his chest choking off his breath. She’d traded her locket for better accommodations for Jeremy. She’d given up something dear to her, and gained very little by it. Between the violent treatment from the guards and the disease that infected every corner of this cell, Jeremy Ives was going to die in Newgate. A blanket and some broth wouldn’t change that.
Tristan cornered Hogg while Miss Monmouth was bidding goodbye to Jeremy, who, despite the improvement in his circumstances, was weeping piteously. “That locket the lady gave you. I want it back.”
Hogg eyed him sullenly. “She change ’er mind?”
“No. I did.” Tristan moved a step closer, so Hogg could feel the difference in their height, and held out his hand. “Give me the lady’s locket.”
“Nay. It’s too late fer that, milord. She gave it up fair like, and I’m keeping it.”
“No, I don’t think you are.” Tristan voice was soft, but menacing. The wardens at Newgate were some of the most loathsome, corrupt men in London, and Hogg was no exception. There wasn’t a drop of honor or compassion in him, but what he lacked in sensibility, he more than made up for in greed.
Tristan drew a handful of guineas from his pocket. “You can take these, hand over the locket, and consider yourself fortunate, or I can take the locket off you myself, and keep the guineas.”
Hogg sized him up, then he snatched up the coins, dug around in his pocket, and handed the locket over to Tristan.
“Wise choice.” Tristan slid the locket into his waistcoat pocket. “It would be a great pity if I were to discover young Mr. Ives didn’t receive his broth and blanket, or has been mistreated in any way. You don’t want me as your enemy, Hogg. Be sure you keep your end of the bargain, or I’ll haunt your every bloody step.”
Hogg’s face drained of color. Satisfied, Tristan strode back across the cell, where Miss Monmouth had managed to calm Jeremy