Then Came You (The Gamblers #1)(88)

The bear rested his great head on his paws. His brows quirked at her, giving him a mournful, questioning expression. “ ’E won’t hurt you,” the boy said defensively, reaching in and rubbing the creature’s head. “E’s a good old fellow.”

“Old, indeed,” Lily said, staring at the bear in fascination. His fur was rough and filthy, liberally strewn with gray. There were several large bald patches on his neck and body, gleams of whiteness among the dark fur.

The boy continued to rub the bear’s head. “You can touch ’im.”

Cautiously Lily reached between the bars, ready to snatch her hand back at any second. The bear breathed placidly, his eyes half-closed. She gave his broad head a gentle stroke, and regarded the massive creature pityingly. “I’ve never touched a bear before,” she murmured. “Not a live one.”

The boy sniffled beside her. “Not for long, ’e won’t be.”

“You’re from the circus?” Lily asked, reading the side of the wagon.

“Aye. My father is the animal master. Pokey don’t remember ’is tricks no more. My father told me to bring ’im ’ere and sell ’im for ten pounds.”

“So they can bait him?” Lily asked, her indignation rising. They would chain him to the floor and let the dogs tear him to pieces.

“Aye,” the boy said miserably. “First they start with rats and badgers, to whip the dogs up. Then it’s Pokey’s turn.”

Lily was outraged. “There’ll be no sport in it. He’s too damned old to defend himself!” She stared at the bear and realized that the bald patches were shaved spots, indicating the vulnerable areas where the dogs would be drawn to attack and tear with their teeth. He had been prepared for slaughter.

“I can’t go ’ome without ten pounds,” the boy sobbed. “My father would beat me.”

Lily looked away from his miserable face. There was nothing she could do, except hope the dogs would make short work of the bear, so that his suffering wouldn’t last long. “What a night,” she muttered. The world was filled with brutality. It was useless to try and fight against it. The sight of the defeated, helpless animal filled her with bitterness. “I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice, and turned back to her horse. There was nothing she could do.

“ ’Ere’s the gundiguts now,” the boy muttered.

Lily stared over her horse’s back at a huge, slovenly man approaching them. He had the neck of a bull and arms the size of tree trunks. His face was covered with black bristle and his thick lips opened to reveal broken teeth clamped on a cigar. “Where are ye, little rumper?” he demanded in a booming voice. His eyes slitted in curiosity as he saw the fine Arabian horse. “What’s this?” He strode around the animal, staring at Lily. His gaze took in her elegant cloak, the soft folds of her yellow skirts, the lustrous sable curls that fell over her forehead. “What a fine bit o’ fluff,” he said, setting his lips. “Are ye a giver, milady?”

Lily gave a crude reply that made him laugh uproariously. His gaze alighted on the boy. “Brung the meat, did ye? Give us a look.” The sight of the docile bear huddled inside the wagon caused his thick lip to curl disdainfully. “Big lump o’ dog paste…looks like he’s already been through a baiting! And yer father asks a tenner for this?”

The boy’s face quivered with repressed emotion. “Yes, sir.”

Lily could tolerate no more of the man’s bullying. There was enough cruelty and needless suffering in the world. She’d be damned if she’d let him torture a tired old bear. “I’ll pay ten pounds for him. It’s obvious the poor animal wouldn’t be of use to you, Mr. Gundiguts.” With a businesslike expression that matched her crisp tone, she fished discreetly in her bodice for a small money pouch.

“ ’Is name is Rooters,” the boy said beneath his breath. “Nevil Rooters.”

Lily winced, realizing that gundiguts was a gutter-cant insult.

The man’s sneering laugh cut through the sound of the roaring crowd inside the makeshift arena “We got more than two hundred men in there,” he said, “and they’s already paid for the sight o’ blood. Keep yer mumper’s brass, milady. I’m taking the bear.”

Lily glanced quickly around the area. Her gaze lingered briefly on a length of heavy chain piled on top of some stacked crates. “If you say so,” she murmured, and let the money pouch slip through her fingers. It fell to the ground with a rich-sounding clink. “Oh, dear, my gold and jewelry!” she exclaimed.

Rooters stared at the pouch with patent greed. “Gold, is it?” He licked his lips and bent low to the ground, reaching a meaty hand toward the pouch.

There was the brief clatter of metal and the muffled jangle of a heavy blow. Rooters gasped and dropped neatly to the dirt, his mammoth form unmoving. Lily dropped the massive chain and dusted her hands together with satisfaction. The boy’s jaw dropped as he regarded her in amazement. Swiftly Lily scooped up the pouch and gave it to him. “Take that home to your father. It will more than compensate him for the horse and wagon.”

“But what about Pokey—”

“I’ll take care of him,” she promised. “He won’t be mistreated.”

The boy’s eyes glittered, and he gave her a wobbling smile. Daringly he reached out and touched a fold of her fine woolen cloak. “Thank you. Thank you.” He scampered away into the darkness. Lily watched him go, then hastened to tie her Arabian to the back of the bear wagon. Aware of the activity outside the iron bars, the bear mustered a half roar sending the horse into nervous fidgets. “Quiet, Pokey,” Lily muttered. “Don’t ruin your own rescue.” Gingerly she climbed into the wooden seat of the rickety vehicle and reached for the reins.