“Even though I’ve been away these past months, that is no reason for you to forget all that I taught you.” Lucan had been in Lincolnshire, plotting to marry off his closest friends.
“I’ve been busy, I have,” Arthur said, taking in a few gulps of air.
As an orphan, his was a typical tale of a street urchin. The only difference was that he had an older sister. Henny Momper had been attending the Winchester Asylum in the hopes of learning a proper servant trade. Unfortunately, when their parents died, she left the school to watch over Arthur.
Then a year ago, Arthur and Henny were taken off the streets and began working for Lord Whitelock. Since the viscount was known for his generosity, in addition to taking in the less fortunate and providing them employment, this normally wouldn’t have gained Lucan’s interest. However, since he owed Whitelock ten thousand pounds, it had.
“Ran all the way from Lord Marsen’s, I did.” Arthur’s gaze lingered on the pastry in Lucan’s hand. “I heard Lord Whitelock tell the driver that his meeting would take a while and to find himself a cup of tea in the meantime.”
Marsen. Lucan had lost a monkey to him last night. It could have been worse—a thousand pounds instead of only half the sum. The pity was, he’d actually assumed that Marsen was a good sort. Of course, that was only until the jack of hearts had made a sloppy appearance from Marsen’s cuff.
Lucan’s odd friendship with Arthur had taken a turn when the lad began to work for Whitelock. While it might not be scrupulous, Lucan started using an unsuspecting Arthur as an informant.
He hadn’t set out to, but one day, Arthur had been chatting on as he usually did and mentioned Whitelock’s meeting with a gambler—a man to whom Lucan had lost at the tables the night before. Then the following week, Arthur had reported a meeting with a different gentleman. That story was similar, as well—it had been with another man to whom Lucan had lost a substantial sum of money.
Of course, the fact that Lucan had run into a two-year losing streak at the tables, defeated by the very men who had met with Whitelock, could all be happenstance.
But Lucan didn’t believe in coincidence. In fact, he suspected—for reasons unknown—that Whitelock wanted to make sure he couldn’t pay back the debt of honor. And if Lucan didn’t come up with ten thousand pounds in the next few months, Hugh Thorne would go back to gaol and soon face the hangman’s noose.
Was it any wonder why Lucan had had to resort to a wager amongst his own friends? Ten thousand pounds to the last bachelor standing in a year’s time. And now, with Everhart and Danvers happily settled, in a few short months, Lucan would finally win and remove this debt for good.
Lucan handed over the bun, watching the boy’s eyes grow as round as his head. It always helped to have a spy who was employed by the one you were spying on. “And here I was, about to let this go to waste. It’s good thing you came along when you did. I would offer a cup of tea, but clearly I wasn’t thinking of entertaining.” He gestured to the brick walls of the narrow alleyway and the damp cobblestones at their feet.
“There’s always tea tomorrow,” Arthur said around a mouthful. Then, after taking a moment to swallow audibly, he wiped the glaze from his lips and stood ramrod straight as if he were imparting news from the royal palace. “My sister is now the housekeeper of Lord Whitelock’s hunting box in Wales.”
From chambermaid to the viscountess’s companion and now head housekeeper? Usually, servants worked their whole lives to reach such prestige. Not to mention, usually only educated, highborn women—most likely a dependent relation—became companions. Yet Henny Momper had managed the implausible in a year’s time. If it weren’t for Whitelock’s unblemished reputation, people might start to make assumptions.
For the boy’s sake, however, Lucan bit down on his suspicions. “I offer my congratulations. What a boon for your sister and, I imagine, for you as well.” Whitelock’s reputed benevolence was one of the reasons that Lucan had accepted the debt on Thorne’s behalf. It made no sense that Whitelock would make it impossible to pay it back.
Yet circumstances suggested otherwise.
Arthur puffed out his chest. “Before Henny left at the end of last month, she said that after a while she’d make sure to set me up as a groom in the stables there.”
“Good on you.” Lucan ruffled his hair, glad for the boy. At the same time, however, he would miss him. He’d grown fond of the former pickpocket.
“His lordship is still looking for a new companion for Lady Whitelock. He’ll go to Mrs. Hunter’s tomorrow.”