No Earls Allowed (The Survivors #2)(22)

“Well?” he asked without preamble.

“He spent most of the day in an alehouse called the Ox and Bull.”

“Not a gin house or a brothel?”

Jasper made a noncommittal sound. It was too dark for Neil to see his expression, and he wouldn’t have been able to read it anyway, as Jasper wore his head covering and mask. “I’m not certain what the place is.”

“Not merely an alehouse?” Neil asked.

“There’s something more there. I’d like to watch the place again tomorrow. Your cull was already back here by the time I tracked him to the Ox and Bull. I’d be interested to see what he does if he goes back and who he sees.”

“So would I.” But Neil was aware he no longer commanded Jasper. “I would consider it a favor if you did this for me, Grantham, but I know you have other obligations.”

In the darkness, Neil could feel Jasper’s scowl. His shoulders straightened, and he became Lord Jasper—a man Neil rarely saw. “After all we’ve been through, you think I’d put tracking some petty rogue before your concerns?”

“I don’t even know if I have any concerns. Goring may be straight as they come.”

“I’m not ready to vouch for that. I’ll take another day to observe, if that’s agreeable to you.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“You don’t owe me anything, Jas. I don’t want you to feel as though you owe me anything.”

Silence broken only by the distant sound of a baby squalling and the twang of someone playing a stringed instrument.

“Neil, you’re an even bigger arse than I thought. Of course I owe you. I owe you my life. But”—he held up a hand—“if you think I do this out of some sense of obligation, you’re an idiot and an arse. I do it because you’re my friend. My brother.”

Neil raked a hand through his hair. “I am an arse. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“I do. You feel guilty because you gave the orders that ended men’s lives.”

“Now, wait—”

“Don’t bloody argue, Neil. We all know it eats you up inside. We also know that every single one of us joined Draven’s troop voluntarily. And when Draven asked if we were afraid to die, we knew what we were up against. Your orders brought twelve of us back, so start looking at the men you saved and stop looking back at the men we—all of us—lost.”

Neil wished it were that simple. He wished he could close his eyes just once and not hear Bryce screaming as he burned alive or watch Guy’s eyes go flat as the blood poured from the gash in his belly.

“I’ll look into this Goring not because I owe you, but because I have your back. I’ll always have your back.”

“And I have yours, Jas. You know if you ever have need of me, you have but to say so.”

“I know.” He gripped Neil’s shoulder with one hand. And as he walked away, Neil heard him murmur, “Unfortunately, no one can give me what I need.”

*

The chair in the entryway needed new stuffing, but despite his aching back, Neil dozed. He didn’t dream. He’d become an expert at keeping his sleep light enough that he did not dream. He had no desire to wake the boys with his screams.

And so it was with some shock that he came awake suddenly at the sound of a blood-curdling scream.

Not his.

One of his men, then. The camp was under attack.

He reached for his pistol, then realized he wasn’t wearing it. He wasn’t in camp. He wasn’t a soldier any longer. The curving staircase of the orphanage’s entryway rose before him and the back of the chair rested against the front door. The door hadn’t opened or he would have been jarred.

He heard the scream again—a child’s scream. He grabbed the fireplace poker leaning against his chair and took the steps two at a time. When he reached the second floor, he first passed Lady Juliana’s bedchamber. Her door stood open, and one glance inside told him she had fled her bed in a hurry. The door to the older boys’ dormitory was closed, but across the way, the younger boys’ door was open.

Neil went directly to it and stepped inside, squinting at the light from a lamp set on a table. “What the devil is wrong?” he demanded.

“Shh!” came the response from the far corner, where Lady Juliana sat on the edge of one of the beds. “You’ll wake the whole house,” she chided him.

“I’ll wake the house?” He hadn’t been the one screaming.

He saw who it was. It was the dark-haired boy, Chester. Tears streamed down his face before he buried it once again in Lady Juliana’s shoulder. She was dressed all in white, a long robe of muslin draped over the bed and trailing to the floor. But the material didn’t hide her bare feet. Neil could only be glad she’d taken a moment to don the robe. Over the course of the long night, he’d entertained several fantasies about seeing her in various states of undress, and it was better for everyone if she stayed well and truly covered.

He would have followed the same principle, except he’d forgotten to pull on his coat and now stood in shirtsleeves. She had been right to worry about the lack of a chaperone. If anyone saw the two of them, she’d be as good as ruined and he’d be forced to ask her to marry him.

Neil looked about the room and saw James rubbing his eyes sleepily. Meanwhile, Charlie lay on his side, thumb tucked securely in his mouth. Jimmy slept too, his arms flung upward as though in surrender.