Silk and Shadows(33)

"Good girl. It probably won't come to that, but I'm glad you're willing." Peregrine doubted that Weldon would ever be brought to trial for his crimes—there were so many other interesting possibilities for his enemy's destruction—but if it came to that, Jenny would be invaluable. "In the meantime, you need to rest and prepare for a new life. Mr. Slade will see that you get a new wardrobe, for one thing."

"Good," she said vehemently. "Then I can burn the clothing she made me wear.''

He suppressed a smile. Jenny was definitely a kindred spirit. For all her look of spun-sugar fragility, she would make a dangerous and implacable enemy. "You said last night that you would like to become a lady's maid. If that is your choice, perhaps an experienced maid can be hired to teach you what you need to know. Would that be possible, Benjamin?"

The lawyer nodded. "I see no problem. After you're trained, it shouldn't be hard to find you a decent job."

Jenny turned her face away to conceal her embarrassing tears. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thanks ever so much."

Her rescuer stood, dark and enigmatic. "Don't give me too much credit. You'll do all the hard work yourself." As he donned his hat, he said, "If you need to speak to me, Mr. Slade knows how to find me. Sleep well, Jenny."

She watched as he bade farewell to his employee and left. He was a strange one and no mistake. When she'd first seen him, with his devil's green eyes that looked right through her, she'd been right worried. Even after what he'd done for her, he made her nervous, though that wasn't the same as being scared.

When Mr. Slade returned, Jenny said, "Where does Mr. Peregrine come from? When I first saw him, I thought maybe he was Irish, until he opened his mouth, but I never heard an accent like his. Not that it's much of an accent," she qualified, "but he doesn't speak like anyone I've ever heard."

"He's Prince Peregrine, and he comes from a wild place in Asia that most people have never heard of," the lawyer answered. He cocked his head on one side. "You speak very well yourself. Better than..." He stopped.

"Better than you'd expect a whore to talk?" she supplied helpfully.

He flushed. "Yes. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you, but..." He ran an exasperated hand through his thinning hair.

"No insult to say I'm a whore, I was one," she said, taking pity on his embarrassment. "Was. Never again."

He gave her a half smile. "You're an unusual young woman."

"I talk better than any other girl that was ever in the house, and I can read and write, too," Jenny said proudly. "When I was little, there was an old lady who lived in the building next door. Miss Crane was a teacher, but she'd come down in the world, which is why she lived in my neighborhood. I used to run errands for her and clean her rooms when her rheumatism was acting up. In return, she taught me things. She liked teaching, and I liked learning. She had lots of books, and she let me read them at her place, where it was quiet."

"Is Miss Crane still alive?"

"No, she died in her sleep one night. After she was gone, Pap sold me. I think maybe it was her that stopped him from doing it sooner. He was sort of scared of her."

The lawyer shook his head, bemused. "Once I thought that my life was a hard one, but I see that I didn't know what I was talking about. While you are my guest, use the library whenever you like." As she struggled to suppress a yawn, he added, "Time for bed, Miss Miller. Come along now."

Her eyes narrowed. Even though Peregrine—fancy him being a prince!—had said Mr. Slade wouldn't try to bull her, it sounded suspiciously like he expected her to warm his bed.

Uncannily, he guessed what was in her mind. "You'll sleep alone, tonight and every other night. From now on, you're Miss Miller, a respectable young cousin of mine who has fallen on hard times, and is staying with me until a situation can be found."

He hesitated a moment, then sat at his desk and pulled a strongbox out of a lower drawer. After unlocking it, he took out several bills before putting it away. Jenny's eyes widened when he handed her the money. It was twenty whole pounds, enough to live on for months. Confused, she looked up at him. "If you don't want me to sleep with you, why are you giving me money?"

"So you won't feel trapped here," he said. His gray eyes were so kind that she wanted to cry again. "I hope you won't run away, both for your own sake and in case we need you to build a case against the man you called 'Master,' but I want you to know that you're not a prisoner."

Her gaze went to the drawer where he'd put the strongbox. "Aren't you afraid that I might run away with your money now that I know where it is?"