The Wrong Girl(44)

"Tommy, I have some questions for you."

"Yes, my lady."

"Tell me about the first time you met Jack."

There was a slight twitching of muscle in his cheek, a faltering of his steady gaze. "I can't rightly remember, my lady."

"I know you knew him before he came to Frakingham."

He blinked, but said nothing.

"I know that Jack came from a London slum, and that you did too. What I don't know, and what I want you to tell me, is what led him here."

"I couldn't say."

The man was loyal, I'd give him that. "Why are you protecting him?"

"He don't need my protection. But a man is entitled to his privacy, ma'am. If he don't want you to know about his past, then I've got no right to tell you."

"If he didn't want me to know?" I stepped up to him. He was much taller than me, but not as tall as Jack. "Why not me specifically?"

Sweat beaded on his brow, yet he didn't answer.

"If you don't tell me, Tommy, I'm afraid I'll have to go to Mr. August Langley and inform him that you knew about Patrick breaking into the house too. I doubt he'll be pleased to hear that. He might not throw his nephew out, but I doubt his mercy will extend to you. Do you like your job here?"

Tommy gawped slack-jawed at me. "You...you'd chirp to Mr. Langley?"

"I don't want to." I turned away, so he couldn't see me cringe as I lied. "But if I had to..."

"Bloody hell," Tommy muttered. "He'll kill me."

I wasn't sure whether he meant Jack or Langley. "I won't tell either of them what is said between us now. It'll be our secret."

He muttered something under his breath then sighed. "Promise you won't tell Jack I said this."

"I promise."

His body lost some of its stiffness, as if he'd decided to shed his footman persona and put on his real one. "His name's Jack Cutler, not Langley. I met him when he came to join our family."

"Family?"

"Not a real one, but that's what our little group called ourselves. We were orphans, him and me. Patrick too, and some others. We looked after one another. We had to or we'd starve to death, or be taken by the rozzers and be sent to the workhouses. Or worse."

"Worse than the workhouses?" I'd heard about the terrible conditions of workhouses. How the food was riddled with maggots, the beds and clothes with lice, and the children forced to work inhuman hours or suffer a beating.

"There were Haymarket Hectors out to get boys and girls like us," he said. "Prostitution," he clarified when I shook my head.

Oh my God. I felt sick to my stomach, and suddenly so very lucky that I'd only had to endure the solitude of an attic for fifteen years. There was much worse out there for orphans. I'd been fortunate, as had Jack, Tommy and their friends.

"We got by," Tommy said. "Stealing mostly, sometimes finding work doing the jobs no one else wanted. We never froze in winter though. Jack and his...fingers saw to that. Then that big mute comes up and hands Jack a letter one day. Jack can't read, so he takes it to the baker down the street who can. The letter says he's the nephew of August Langley and that he wanted to adopt him."

"And then?"

Tommy shrugged. "Then he came here, bringing me with him. Langley didn't want me though, so he made me a footman because Jack says he's not staying if I don't too. He's a good friend. Like a brother. We've always taken care of each other."

"So...is he August Langley's nephew? You said his name was Cutler, but now he goes by Langley."

Tommy shrugged. "Maybe he is, maybe he isn't. All I know is, the old man gave Jack an education, horses, an allowance. Why would he be so generous if he weren't a relation?"

"I suppose." Yet it didn't make sense. According to Sylvia, there'd been three Langley brothers—her father, Jack's father, and August himself. Yet Jack had been a Cutler not a Langley. And what of Tommy's and Patrick's doubts on the matter?

I thought about asking him if Jack had a more nefarious motive for staying, but decided not to. He was as loyal to Jack as he could be, and if he did know anything, I was sure he'd deny it.

"Thank you, Tommy. I'm sorry to have put you through this."

He sighed. "I suppose it had to come out sooner or later. You'll keep your promise, won't you, m'lady? You won't tell Jack you and me spoke?"

"I won't. Are you afraid of him?"

"No, but I don't want him to be disappointed in me. He trusts me, and that's the way I want it to stay."

I squeezed his arm and he dipped his head, but not before I saw his cheeks redden. "Don't worry, I won't say anything. Believe me, I understand what it's like to have Jack disappointed in me."