her, fog billowing with each step. Next to a stack of wooden boxes, she stopped. Kit flattened himself against the wall and held his breath. She looked around, then slid down to the ground and tucked her feet under her. Hugging herself, she crouched, her breath ragged in the night. Nearby a cat crept out and slunk along the alley. Male voices, low and rough, murmured. Someone laughed. A baby cried and hushed. The truth of her situation slapped him in the face. He’d suspected she had gone hungry, but never imagined she had nowhere safe to sleep. The idea twisted in his gut. No one should be so desperate.
“This is why?” he said.
She shrieked and stood.
He stepped out of the shadows so she could see him.
She let out a combined gasp and sigh. “Kit?”
“How long have you been sleeping in the alleys?” he demanded.
With a sob, she put her hands over her face. “I’m so humiliated.”
He approached and asked gently. “There is no reason for embarrassment. I’m merely…surprised.”
Without removing her hand, she sighed, sad and resigned. “The theatre manager refused to give me an advance except for the farthing I used to buy my bread this morning. None of the respectable boarding houses I tried would take me without a letter of introduction or a week’s payment in advance.”
Aghast, he stared, still grappling with her reality. Then finally, he managed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was too ashamed to tell anyone.” She stood hugging her portmanteau, her shoulders slumped.
“You’re lucky you didn’t get robbed, or…worse.”
“I don’t have much choice. I’d hoped to remain behind and sleep in the theatre tonight but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a meal.”
He took a step closer. “Now that you’re finally being honest with me, how long since you have eaten?”
“I have been honest with you. I just didn’t volunteer certain information.”
“How long, Susanna?”
She chewed her lower lip. “I had a plain bun this morning.”
“And before that?”
She paused. “I had a bit of bread pudding two days ago.”
His stomach clenched. “And before that?”
She huffed. “Why does that matter? As soon as I start earning money, I can eat a proper meal every day.”
“It matters because you look as if you haven’t eaten a proper meal in weeks—or longer.”
She said nothing.
Kit paced. He couldn’t leave her here like this. There were a few reputable boarding houses but they wouldn’t take her in the middle of the night even if he offered them a great deal of money. His mother would probably take her in, but she’d misunderstand his intentions toward the girl. And his father would be an overbearing snob to her. His sister? Now that was a possibility. She and her husband would be gracious about giving Susanna a place to sleep until Kit could find more permanent lodgings for her. Of course, if he took Susanna there, she’d eventually figure out who he was. However, no better solution presented itself.
He held out a hand. “My sister lives nearby. She would be happy to let you stay with her until other arrangements can be made.” He smiled. “She’ll probably invite you to stay for the whole Season.”
Susanna shook her head. “I cannot impose.”
“Trust me, she will love it. Esther will make you feel welcome. She loves to feel needed and is always going about throwing herself into one cause after another.” As a child, she often brought home stray kittens and fallen birds and injured rabbits.
“I am not someone’s cause. I’m tired of being a pawn to forward the interests of others.”
He almost cursed out loud. “I didn’t mean you were a cause. I only mean that she’d love to help you.”
“I don’t want her charity,” she said flatly. “I’m sick to death of relying on someone’s charity.”
“Your aunt’s so-called charity, for example?”
After a moment’s silence, she said in a hushed voice, “She was always going on about
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
Jan Washburn
Terri Blackstock
Norah Simone
Barry Kemp
G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
Linda Barnes
Lisa Jackson