back of the shop, where the damage had not yet extended. If he’d been a few minutes later, the riot would have doubtless turned to looting and given the looks of the crowded room, there would have been much to take.
Thomas ignored its disordered state, heading instead for the simple cot, to lay Hester upon it with care.
He brushed away her hair, helpless against the urge to reassure himself that she continued to live. The bruising that mottled her delicate face infuriated him. The blood was mixed with the grit she had lain upon and her clothes were smeared with the filth that had been hurled at her.
He swallowed, more distressed than he could express. He knelt, taking her hand in his and squeezing it, hoping to elicit a response. “Miss Aspinall? Hester?”
Nothing.
A thought occurred to him. “How did this happen?” he asked, not bothering to hide his fury. “Do you know who started the rioting?”
The apprentice nodded, his face grim. “Stroud,” he reported. “His daughter was to marry the master in a fortnight.”
“He owns a company that deals in woollens, doesn’t he?” Jeremy nodded. Then something else the boy said struck him. “You said his daughter was to marry?”
The lad snorted. “Don’t know, but I can’t imagine he’d countenance one of his own marrying Mr. Robert now, sir. Not the way he was carrying on, calling him and Miss Aspinall the most terrible names.” His colour heightened with remembered anger. “Come with his men to take what was theirs. But it weren’t. Theirs, I mean. Miss Aspinall, she tried to stop them but she weren’t no match. The crowd was growing louder and louder and I couldn’t get her away.”
“She wouldn’t leave?”
“No. She just kept pleading and begging that damned man, and he mocking and taunting and hurling the master’s things here and yon. I saw the way the wind were blowing and I thought of you. I hope you don’t think me presumptuous, sir, bursting in on you like I did.”
Thomas knew he would deal with Stroud later. The merchant would not find him a forgiving adversary. There were a thousand and one ways to ruin a man, and while Thomas had never undertaken them before, now he would execute them with perverse pleasure. He smiled with grim intent. But right now, his priority must be Hester. Every moment of delay could cost her dearly.
“Your actions likely saved her life. That is the most important thing.” He withdrew his purse from inside his coat and handed several coins to Jeremy. “You must flag down a hack and send it here. Miss Aspinall cannot remain in such a situation. When you have done this, go to my offices. Have one of the clerks carry a message to Dr. Aubrey. They will know his directions. Have the doctor meet us at my home.”
To his credit, the boy drew himself up to his full height and, regardless of the social gulf between them, fixed Thomas with a determined stare. “She will be safe with you?”
Perhaps the way Thomas had cradled Hester had given away something of his feelings towards her, and he wondered just what the boy had seen on his face earlier when he’d gazed down at Hester’s unconscious form.
“Perfectly,” he responded, meeting Jeremy’s wide eyes. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him, for the apprentice was off again in an instant, pausing only long enough to assure Thomas that he would return posthaste.
The hired coach arrived quickly. Hester, her head cradled in his lap, flickered between consciousness and unknowingness as the conveyance bumped and jostled towards his London townhome. He did not take the freedom of touching her face, but he did allow himself the liberty of stroking her hair. The brush of the strands against his hands was oddly comforting, for all that he had intended to give ease to her and not to himself.
“Be well,” he crooned, so softly he doubted that even if she had been conscious she could have discerned his words. “Be well.”
Chapter Seven
The day’s
Thomas ignored its disordered state, heading instead for the simple cot, to lay Hester upon it with care.
He brushed away her hair, helpless against the urge to reassure himself that she continued to live. The bruising that mottled her delicate face infuriated him. The blood was mixed with the grit she had lain upon and her clothes were smeared with the filth that had been hurled at her.
He swallowed, more distressed than he could express. He knelt, taking her hand in his and squeezing it, hoping to elicit a response. “Miss Aspinall? Hester?”
Nothing.
A thought occurred to him. “How did this happen?” he asked, not bothering to hide his fury. “Do you know who started the rioting?”
The apprentice nodded, his face grim. “Stroud,” he reported. “His daughter was to marry the master in a fortnight.”
“He owns a company that deals in woollens, doesn’t he?” Jeremy nodded. Then something else the boy said struck him. “You said his daughter was to marry?”
The lad snorted. “Don’t know, but I can’t imagine he’d countenance one of his own marrying Mr. Robert now, sir. Not the way he was carrying on, calling him and Miss Aspinall the most terrible names.” His colour heightened with remembered anger. “Come with his men to take what was theirs. But it weren’t. Theirs, I mean. Miss Aspinall, she tried to stop them but she weren’t no match. The crowd was growing louder and louder and I couldn’t get her away.”
“She wouldn’t leave?”
“No. She just kept pleading and begging that damned man, and he mocking and taunting and hurling the master’s things here and yon. I saw the way the wind were blowing and I thought of you. I hope you don’t think me presumptuous, sir, bursting in on you like I did.”
Thomas knew he would deal with Stroud later. The merchant would not find him a forgiving adversary. There were a thousand and one ways to ruin a man, and while Thomas had never undertaken them before, now he would execute them with perverse pleasure. He smiled with grim intent. But right now, his priority must be Hester. Every moment of delay could cost her dearly.
“Your actions likely saved her life. That is the most important thing.” He withdrew his purse from inside his coat and handed several coins to Jeremy. “You must flag down a hack and send it here. Miss Aspinall cannot remain in such a situation. When you have done this, go to my offices. Have one of the clerks carry a message to Dr. Aubrey. They will know his directions. Have the doctor meet us at my home.”
To his credit, the boy drew himself up to his full height and, regardless of the social gulf between them, fixed Thomas with a determined stare. “She will be safe with you?”
Perhaps the way Thomas had cradled Hester had given away something of his feelings towards her, and he wondered just what the boy had seen on his face earlier when he’d gazed down at Hester’s unconscious form.
“Perfectly,” he responded, meeting Jeremy’s wide eyes. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him, for the apprentice was off again in an instant, pausing only long enough to assure Thomas that he would return posthaste.
The hired coach arrived quickly. Hester, her head cradled in his lap, flickered between consciousness and unknowingness as the conveyance bumped and jostled towards his London townhome. He did not take the freedom of touching her face, but he did allow himself the liberty of stroking her hair. The brush of the strands against his hands was oddly comforting, for all that he had intended to give ease to her and not to himself.
“Be well,” he crooned, so softly he doubted that even if she had been conscious she could have discerned his words. “Be well.”
Chapter Seven
The day’s
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