The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(70)

Not long after, Merton not being at all shy about making an impressive entrance, their group came to a stop in front of the Star and Garter in grand fashion. Of course, that was hardly to be avoided with the number of outriders, most of them in livery, he had flanking the coach.

Jemmy scrambled down from his perch. “I’ll see to the horses, my lord.”

“Thank you.” One thing was clear, the lad was horse mad. Con strolled over to the coach, opened the door and let down the steps. “My lady.”

Charlotte’s lips tilted up. “My lord, how kind of you.”

“It is my pleasure.” Once she was on the ground, he pressed his lips to the back of her gloved hand.

While they waited for Merton and his lady, Con led her off to the side, and time seemed to stop as he gazed into her clear blue eyes. Somehow, between the Dove and here, he’d come to the conclusion that he did not merely want her because of his promise and his pride, but he needed her in his life. “Charlotte, I—”

“Come along,” Merton said. “I have been informed that my wife must immediately have sustenance.”

“I as well.” Charlotte placed her hand on Con’s arm. “Let us find a time to be private.”

That would not happen until much later. “Very well. By the by, did you know Jemmy’s tongue runs like a fiddlestick?”

“He is extremely curious.” The corners of her mouth took a definite downward turn. “I hope you were not bothered by him.”

“I am merely interested in what Worthington plans for the boy. I gather he is joining your brothers and sisters for lessons.”

“Indeed he is, and doing wonderfully well. When I found him, he could not read or write. Now he is surpassing Phillip and Theo.”

“Found him?” How the devil did a gently bred young lady “find” a child from the streets? Then he remembered what her brother had told him.

“Um, yes.” She bit her lower lip, and a line appeared between her well-shaped brows. “You know that children are sold to kid kens.”

She posed it as a statement, not a question. “Yes.”

“We have been able to rescue and find the homes of quite a few of those taken. Jemmy was with another boy.” She sighed softly. “We have not yet found his family.”

“You believe he is from the gentry?” Con glanced back at the child. It was possible. Jemmy had the regular features of any boy in Mayfair, as well as what looked to be a budding patrician nose. Then again, he might be someone’s by-blow.

“Most of the children in that particular group were. He had been there for a long time, and has no clear memory of his parents.” They entered the inn and were ushered up a wide staircase. “We are hoping, praying if you must know, that as he becomes older he will resemble someone and be recognized.”

Con greatly doubted that would occur. What, after all, were the odds that someone would come across the boy by chance?

As if she had heard him, she said, “It already happened with a little girl. A lady, who turned out to be the child’s grandmother, saw her playing in the Park and almost swooned. The girl looked exactly like her mother at that age.”

“And the mother?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“Murdered.”

They had reached the apartment Merton had hired. There was a large parlor with two doors on either side of the room. “What will you do if you are unable to find his family?”

“Keep him as one of ours.” She smiled a bit sadly. “Eventually, he will become used to living with us. Right now, he feels compelled to work part of the time in the stables. Matt intends to send him to school the year after Phillip goes.”

“He may just like horses.” Con grinned down at her. “At his age, if I had been given the choice between living in the house and living in the stables, I assure you the stables would have won out.”

Charlotte chuckled lightly. “I imagine they would have.” She glanced around the room. “My, this is elegant.”

It was. Now that they were in the parlor, he could see a balcony beyond a pair of French windows. She strode over to them, drew back the curtains, and stepped out. “Richmond is a lovely little town. I wonder if they have a market.”

Standing behind her, he glanced down at the street below. “I will ask.”

“Thank you.” Once again her smile made him want to drag her into his arms and never let go. “After all, we are in no hurry to return to Town.”

Other than to marry. Yet, before then, he must make sure of her and their future. He looked around the parlor again. The door on one side of the parlor was slightly open, and he could hear her cousins talking in low voices. She would most likely be in the chamber on the opposite side of the parlor from the Mertons. He wondered where his room was located, and hoped it would not be too far away. Although, if Merton was as protective as Worthington appeared to be, it could be on the other side of the inn.

“My lord?”

Con turned around. His valet stood just outside the door, but not from the main corridor.

Obviously, he had been paying so much attention to Charlotte he had failed to notice the smaller corridor located before the main door to the parlor. “Cunningham.”

He bowed. “Your chamber is this way if you would like to wash before luncheon.”