the gentleman she’d met at Felicia’s wedding...or perhaps he was the same, but she’d assumed he was quite different.
The Kit Cavanaugh she’d seen over the past days was a gentleman of a very different stripe.
The sort of gentleman who could be good company, but who had a serious side. A practical side. On top of that, he seemed to know how to deal with people, especially those not of his class.
She’d met enough aristocrats to know that wasn’t a widely held talent.
Quite what she thought of the Kit Cavanaugh who was walking beside her, she wasn’t entirely sure.
Was what he was now showing her of him real? Or was this the façade?
CHAPTER 4
“Careful.” Kit gripped Sylvia’s elbow to steer her safely across the cobbles of King Street.
His touch sent thrills lancing up her arm; her breath caught, but he gave no sign of noticing, and once they’d reached the wider expanse of Broad Quay, he released her and resumed his steady pacing alongside her.
She decided she was not going to look his way; instead, she surveyed the pedestrians before them. “I haven’t yet caught sight of the boys—they must have rushed ahead.”
It was close to noon, and the crowds on the quay limited how far she could see.
Head raised, Kit was scanning the throng. “A couple of the boys are approaching the bridge.”
As she and Kit neared the drawbridge over the Frome, she got a clear view of the two oldest lads; more heavily burdened, the pair were trudging doggedly along. The other boys with their lighter loads must have gone ahead; there was no sign of them. As by Kit’s side, she wove through the crowd, making for the steps leading up to the drawbridge, she saw the two lads struggle up the stone steps, heave their loads higher in their arms, and tramp out onto the wooden span.
She and Kit were almost at the steps when she heard a loud hail.
Looking up at the bridge, she saw the two school lads being bailed up by a gang of older youths. The four youths pushed and taunted the two schoolboys; it was blatantly apparent that the gang thought to enliven their day by making the younger lads drop their precious packages over the bridge’s railing into the churning waters below.
“Oh, no!” Sylvia tensed to run forward, but Kit thrust the packages he’d been carrying at her feet, all but tripping her.
“Wait here and watch those.”
She had little choice as he strode to the rescue, taking the steps up to the bridge in two strides, then descending on the pack of louts like an avenging angel.
The gang saw him coming and paused, instantly recognizing a predator of much higher status than they. But they didn’t back away from the schoolboys. Instead, the youths waited, assuming Kit—who, whatever he wore or wherever he was, carried his status like a mantle—would stride disinterestedly past and leave their victims to them.
Kit assessed the situation with a keen eye, then veered to halt behind the two schoolboys. He dropped a hand on each lad’s shoulder. “Is there some problem here?”
He directed the question to the lout he judged to be the leader of the gang, a gangling youth of perhaps seventeen years.
Kit allowed his gaze to dwell, coldly, on the youth’s pasty face and waited with icy calm.
Beneath his hands, he felt the two school lads straighten, confidence returning. One of them said, “Don’t rightly know what this lot want with us.”
“Indeed?” Kit arched a brow at the gang leader. “Perhaps you’d like to enlighten us.”
The other members of the gang started to edge away. The leader glanced around, then swung back to face Kit and swallowed. “Ah...no. No problem.” The youth licked his lips and added, “We was just asking if they perhaps needed a hand with them packages, is all, sir.”
Kit allowed a shark-like smile to curve his lips. “It’s not ‘sir’—it’s ‘my lord.’ And how kind of you to volunteer to help.”
The youth’s eyes flew wide. “Wot?”
But Kit was already speaking to the schoolboys. “We have six packages and, all together, I see six lads before me.” He patted the schoolboys’ shoulders encouragingly. “Let’s pass the packages around to these helpful lads, and we’ll be at the school that much faster. Here—let me help.”
Kit plucked a package out of the arms of one of the schoolboys and pushed it into the chest of the gang leader.
Instinctively, the youth grabbed the package.
Before his mates could flee, Kit pointed at them and beckoned.