the baby from her and cradling him against his chest. The child was an insubstantial weight, still at the stage where it seemed like a stiff wind might carry him away. He settled his hand more firmly at the baby’s back.
She gave him a dour look. “Do I look like I’ll be climbing into trees any time soon? And I’d like to know how to shoot an arrow with these in the way,” she said, gesturing at her chest. “I told you to talk to Hattie from the fair.”
Kit hummed his agreement and turned his nose into the baby’s head, breathing in the smell of milk and fresh linens and whatever else made babies smell the way they did. “What’s his name?”
“Sam. Not that we’ve got around to christening him yet.”
Hannah hadn’t been christened, either. Kit couldn’t make himself do it alone, not with Jenny in prison. And then, after everything, it was the least of his concerns. “That’s a good name,” he made himself say. “Go on and let me look after him for a bit. If he needs you, I reckon you’ll hear him holler.”
Janet, who maybe knew something about Kit’s past, or maybe just saw something in his face, or maybe just was grateful to have a few minutes without the baby, leaned over and kissed Kit’s cheek before vanishing into the throng.
Somebody produced a bottle of gin, and somebody else arrived with a stack of pies. Baby Sam still sleeping on his shoulder, Kit carefully lowered himself into a chair. The child startled slightly at the movement, and Kit patted his back, whispering hushing noises into his ear.
Betty came over with a tankard of ale. “You all right?” she asked.
“Not quite over the shock,” he admitted. “You?”
“He’s lucky I haven’t broken his nose. Has he told you where he was all this time, other than that it was a secret?”
Kit shook his head.
“I’ll tell you, I don’t like it.”
Kit stayed silent for a while, thinking only of the slow breathing of the child in his arms. “Neither do I,” he finally said. He wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to express how glad he was to have Rob back, but how profoundly uneasy he felt about it. It crossed his mind that what he really wanted was to speak to Percy; Percy, he felt certain, would understand what it was like when a thread of distrust worked its way through love. Kit imagined what it would be like to be able to unburden himself to Percy, and even for Percy to be able to do the same to Kit. It felt out of reach, miles away from their tentative alliance, miles away from what they had done together the previous night.
But he wanted it, and he thought Percy did, too. He didn’t know if they’d manage it, but Kit intended to try.
Chapter 35
It was beginning to occur to Percy that highway robbery was only going to be the beginning of his life of crime, because he was also going to need to dip his toes into the world of kidnapping. He wouldn’t put it past the duke to attempt to keep Marian from Eliza. Spiriting her away was not the problem—even as loud and inclined to wriggle as she was, she could be concealed under a cloak and then—well, Percy hadn’t the faintest idea what one did with children, even if one acquired them by more traditional means than kidnapping.
“You’re admirably portable,” he told her. “We at least have that working in our favor.” She responded, as per custom, by making a noise that sounded like “fffff” and squeezing his finger in her fat little fist.
“Yes, quite,” he agreed.
Percy had sent the nursery maid back to bed and could hear her soft snores through the closed door. He could simply walk out of the house with the baby in his arms and be halfway across town before anyone even noticed the child was missing. He would probably even have time to stop in his rooms and fill his pockets with a handful of valuables.
They could live off that for some time, if he could figure out how people lived in an ordinary sort of way. He could ask Kit how one went about hiring rooms and acquiring food and milk. He was extremely cross with Kit at the moment but didn’t doubt that the man would have no problem being an accessory to kidnapping—not under these circumstances, at least. How very humbling, needing to