neighborhood.”
Thrasher scowled. “Ya think I know every kid was born in the Dials?”
“You’d have a better chance than I would. He’s about your age. Probably a product of the flash houses.” When he still got blank disinterest, he changed tactics. “He said he hangs about the Blue Goose. Do you know of it?”
“Sure. It’s a ’ell in St. Giles where the young swells go to lose their money. You got some money you wanna throw away?”
Alex didn’t answer right away. If he could find Lennie Wednesday again, maybe the lad could point out who had given him the note. Maybe Alex could find a way to defang his enemies before they had a chance to strike.
“I’d like to go there tonight,” he finally said.
The boy cocked his head. “If ya want to blend in, dress down an’ don’t say nuffink. Ya wanna go as a swell…” He shot Alex a blinding grin. “Dress up an’ look stupid.”
Alex grinned back. “That should be easy enough.”
Walking over, he plucked Thrasher’s hat from where it sat. “Ask Mr. Finney to stop around when he’s able.”
Accepting his hat, Thrasher hopped over the arm of the chair and held out his hand. “Well, if that’s all I can do…”
The boy was staring at his hand, as if it had managed to hold itself out, palm up, all on its own. Alex wanted to laugh. Instead, he flipped a coin that Thrasher caught like a bird snapping at bugs.
Alex nodded. “Tell Finney they’ll need to begin tomorrow. I’d rather not leave the ladies unprotected.”
Thrasher tipped a finger to his bowler. “Anything you say, y’r worshipfulness.”
* * *
An hour later, Alex was still sitting at the desk staring at a distressingly empty sheet of paper. Acting stupid was going to be easy, he realized. He already felt stupid. He still had no notion of how he was going to convince Fiona Ferguson to see sense and desert her students. He had finally written down his first suggestion when Sir Joseph strolled in.
“I leave the country for six months and you take over my house,” he greeted Alex casually.
Alex looked up to see that his father looked even more worn than the day before. Alex had meant to confront him with the letter. He kept thinking there had to be some rational explanation, but what if there wasn’t? How could he bring it up now, though, when his father’s color was even worse?
So he smiled, as if the world had not been upended. “Soames has been tattling again, I take it.”
Sir Joseph smiled. “Something about a tatterdemalion pickpocket making free with my office behind my back.”
“Soames forgot infant mastermind and incipient scoundrel,” Alex said. “One of Lady Kate’s projects.”
Stepping up to the desk, Sir Joseph noticed Alex’s aborted list.
“‘Buy telescope’? Does this signify success or failure in your attempt to recover Leyburn’s granddaughters?”
Glad he hadn’t written down the other suggestions he’d been considering, Alex came out from behind the desk. “Failure. I have just sent a letter informing the marquess’s secretary that while the marquess’s granddaughters are safe, they have no interest in society, which should make him happy. They are content being computers for the Astronomer Royal and teaching scrubby brats to count.”
His eyebrows soaring, his father eased into one of the green leather armchairs by the fire. “Mathematics? Good lord. Bluestockings.”
Alex joined him and shared a grin. “Worse. Astronomers, although I wouldn’t call Fiona a bluestocking. She is quite formidable, however…actually, I think they both are. You should see their correspondence.”
“It doesn’t sound like your typical debutante to me. Are you sure you shouldn’t simply leave her alone?”
Alex successfully fought the urge to snap at his father. Sir Joseph didn’t know how special Fiona was turning out to be. Or Alex’s debt to her brother. How could he?
“Do you really think we should abandon her, simply because her
Thrasher scowled. “Ya think I know every kid was born in the Dials?”
“You’d have a better chance than I would. He’s about your age. Probably a product of the flash houses.” When he still got blank disinterest, he changed tactics. “He said he hangs about the Blue Goose. Do you know of it?”
“Sure. It’s a ’ell in St. Giles where the young swells go to lose their money. You got some money you wanna throw away?”
Alex didn’t answer right away. If he could find Lennie Wednesday again, maybe the lad could point out who had given him the note. Maybe Alex could find a way to defang his enemies before they had a chance to strike.
“I’d like to go there tonight,” he finally said.
The boy cocked his head. “If ya want to blend in, dress down an’ don’t say nuffink. Ya wanna go as a swell…” He shot Alex a blinding grin. “Dress up an’ look stupid.”
Alex grinned back. “That should be easy enough.”
Walking over, he plucked Thrasher’s hat from where it sat. “Ask Mr. Finney to stop around when he’s able.”
Accepting his hat, Thrasher hopped over the arm of the chair and held out his hand. “Well, if that’s all I can do…”
The boy was staring at his hand, as if it had managed to hold itself out, palm up, all on its own. Alex wanted to laugh. Instead, he flipped a coin that Thrasher caught like a bird snapping at bugs.
Alex nodded. “Tell Finney they’ll need to begin tomorrow. I’d rather not leave the ladies unprotected.”
Thrasher tipped a finger to his bowler. “Anything you say, y’r worshipfulness.”
* * *
An hour later, Alex was still sitting at the desk staring at a distressingly empty sheet of paper. Acting stupid was going to be easy, he realized. He already felt stupid. He still had no notion of how he was going to convince Fiona Ferguson to see sense and desert her students. He had finally written down his first suggestion when Sir Joseph strolled in.
“I leave the country for six months and you take over my house,” he greeted Alex casually.
Alex looked up to see that his father looked even more worn than the day before. Alex had meant to confront him with the letter. He kept thinking there had to be some rational explanation, but what if there wasn’t? How could he bring it up now, though, when his father’s color was even worse?
So he smiled, as if the world had not been upended. “Soames has been tattling again, I take it.”
Sir Joseph smiled. “Something about a tatterdemalion pickpocket making free with my office behind my back.”
“Soames forgot infant mastermind and incipient scoundrel,” Alex said. “One of Lady Kate’s projects.”
Stepping up to the desk, Sir Joseph noticed Alex’s aborted list.
“‘Buy telescope’? Does this signify success or failure in your attempt to recover Leyburn’s granddaughters?”
Glad he hadn’t written down the other suggestions he’d been considering, Alex came out from behind the desk. “Failure. I have just sent a letter informing the marquess’s secretary that while the marquess’s granddaughters are safe, they have no interest in society, which should make him happy. They are content being computers for the Astronomer Royal and teaching scrubby brats to count.”
His eyebrows soaring, his father eased into one of the green leather armchairs by the fire. “Mathematics? Good lord. Bluestockings.”
Alex joined him and shared a grin. “Worse. Astronomers, although I wouldn’t call Fiona a bluestocking. She is quite formidable, however…actually, I think they both are. You should see their correspondence.”
“It doesn’t sound like your typical debutante to me. Are you sure you shouldn’t simply leave her alone?”
Alex successfully fought the urge to snap at his father. Sir Joseph didn’t know how special Fiona was turning out to be. Or Alex’s debt to her brother. How could he?
“Do you really think we should abandon her, simply because her
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