The Leopard Prince (Princes #2)(73)

Bennet fought for a second more, and then Harry’s words seemed to reach his brain. He froze.

Cautiously, Harry lifted his hand.

“Harry?”

“You’d better hope.” He spoke barely above a whisper. “The way you sleep, it could be marauders. Even the boy woke before you.”

Bennet leaned over the bed. “Will? Are you there?”

“Yes, sir.” Will had sat up sometime during the struggle.

“Jesus.” Bennet flopped back on the bed, covering his eyes with an arm. “You nearly gave me apoplexy.”

“You’ve gotten soft living in London.” The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched. “Hasn’t he, Will?”

“We-ell.” The boy clearly didn’t want to say anything against his new mentor. “Wouldn’t hurt to be more alert.”

“Thank you, young Will.” Bennet removed his arm to glare at Harry. “What’re you doing, creeping into my bedroom in the wee hours?”

Harry sat on the bed, his back against one of the posts at the end. He nudged Bennet’s legs with a boot. The other man stared at the boot indignantly before moving.

Harry stretched out his legs. “I’m leaving.”

“So you’ve come to say good-bye?”

“Not exactly.” He looked down at the fingernails on his right hand. To the place where one should be but wasn’t. “Your father is hell-bent on having me killed. And he’s none too happy with Lady Georgina for saving me.”

Bennet nodded. “He’s been rampaging around Granville House the last week, roaring that he’d have you arrested. He’s insane.”

“Aye. He’s also the magistrate.”

“What can you do? What can anybody do?”

“I can find whoever is really killing the sheep.” Harry glanced at Will. “And Mrs. Pollard’s murderer as well. It might dampen his temper.” And turn it away from his lady.

Bennet sat up. “Very well. But how are you going to find the killer?”

Harry stared. A pendant on a thin chain around Bennet’s neck had swung forward: a small, crudely carved falcon.

Harry blinked, remembering.

Long, long ago. A morning so bright and sunny it hurt to open your eyes wide to the full, blue sky. He and Benny had stretched on their backs on top of the hill, chewing grass.

“Lookee here.” Harry took the carving out of his pocket and handed it to Benny.

Benny turned it over in his dirty fingers. “A bird.”

“It’s a falcon. Can’t you see?”

“ ’Course I can see.” Benny glanced up. “Who made it?”

“Me.”

“Really? You carved it?” Benny stared at him with awe.

“Aye.” Harry shrugged. “My da taught me. It’s only my first, so it’s not so good.”

“I like it.”

Harry shrugged again and squinted into the blinding blue sky. “You can keep it if you want.”

“Thanks.”

They had lain for a while, almost falling asleep in the warm sun.

Then Benny sat up. “I’ve got something for you.”

He’d turned out both pockets and then dug down again, finally bringing up a small, dirty penknife. Benny rubbed it on his breeches and handed it to Harry.

Harry looked at the pearl handle and tested the edge with his thumb. “Ta, Benny. It’ll be good for whittling.”

Harry couldn’t remember what he and Bennet had done the rest of that day. Probably rode their ponies about. Maybe fished in the stream. Come home hungry. That was how they’d spent most days back then. And it didn’t really matter. The next afternoon Da had found his mother humping old Granville.

Harry looked up and met eyes as green as his own.

“I’ve always worn it.” Bennet touched the little falcon.

Harry nodded and glanced away from Bennet for a moment. “I had started asking around, before I was arrested, and I’ve tried again this last week, discreetly, lest your father track me.” He looked back at Bennet, his face under control now. “Nobody seems to know much, but there’s plenty besides me who have a reason to hate your father.”

“Probably most of the county.”

Harry ignored the sarcasm. “I thought maybe I should search a bit further back.”

Bennet raised his eyebrows.

“Your nurse is still alive, isn’t she?”

“Old Alice Humboldt?” Bennet yawned. “Yes, she’s alive. Her cottage was the first place I stopped when I got back into the district. And you’re right, she might know something. Nanny is very quiet, but she always noticed everything.”

“Good.” Harry stood up. “Then she’s the person to question. Want to come?”

“What, now?”

Harry’s mouth twitched. He’d forgotten how fun it was to bait Bennet. “I had thought to wait for sunrise,” he said gravely, “but if you’re eager to go now…”

“No. No, sunrise is fine.” Bennet winced. “I don’t suppose you could wait until nine o’clock?”

Harry looked at him.

“No, of course not.” Bennet yawned again, nearly unhinging the back of his head. “I’ll meet you at Nanny’s cottage, shall I?”