Olivia Twist(73)

“Ollie?”

“Yes, it’s me!”

A thud, followed by a squeak, prompted Olivia to jump back as a dark outline lowered toward her. Brit was a genius. Of course, the control lever would only be accessible from the third floor. Before the ramp even slid into the grooves provided for it, Olivia’s feet were on it. She ran up the steep incline and leapt onto the landing. “Why aren’t you out looking for him?” she demanded as Archie spun the wheel backward, lifting the plank away from the staircase.

Archie’s green eyes blinked at her, clearly confused. “How did you—”

“Because I’m here,” croaked a voice from the doorway.

Unable to believe her ears, Olivia snatched a nearby lantern and thrust it toward the doorway. He was all right!

“Brit!” Olivia rushed forward and threw her arms around the boy, pushing him back into the room.

“Ouch. Ollie, leave off.” Brit struggled and pulled back from her embrace.

“Are you hurt?” She released him and lifted the lantern. “What happ—” Her voice choked off at the sight of his face. His left eye was purple and swollen shut, his right cheek cut open, his lower lip busted and bleeding. “What happened to you?”

The bolt slammed into place and Archie joined them. “Ollie, how did you know Brit was in trouble?”

The hairs stood up on the back of Olivia’s neck, a warning jangling over her skin. “I need to tend Brit’s wounds and I’ll explain.”

Seated in front of the massive hearth, surrounded by what seemed like a hundred boys and at least two girls, Olivia cleaned Brit’s face and began asking questions. From what she could gather, Brit had been kidnapped that afternoon by some of Monks’s goons. They’d blindfolded him, taken him to their hideout, beat on him, and then released him. And most curious of all, Archie had never sent her a note. She knew Brit had shared her true identity with his second-in-command in case of an emergency, but Brit had returned before the boys had too much time to panic.

“So, they didn’t give you any clues to why they would do this?” Olivia asked for the second time.

Brit winced as she dabbed a wet cloth against the gash on his cheek. “No.”

“Was Monks there?”

“No, just heard the gits sayin’ Monks would have their hides if he found out they let me go.” Brit looked up at the ceiling before his solemn dark eyes met Olivia’s and his brows wrinkled over his freckled nose. “I think they were meant to kill me.”

A wave of such intense emotions rose inside Olivia that her hand hovered halfway to Brit’s lip. She stared into the fire as her chin trembled. How could she protect them from someone so ruthless? So utterly evil? Not even Jack, with his cleverness and strength, could stop her half brother. Jack was only one man, after all.

Brit ordered the children to get their pallets laid out for the night and then leaned in, whispering, “I’m all right, Ollie. These are just bruises.”

She blinked back her tears and met Brit’s gaze, his bravery so very like Jack’s. “I know. But what about next time, Brit? I’m putting you all in danger and it has to stop.”

“What does that blasted Monks have to do with you?”

Olivia threw a glance to the other children, but they were all busy preparing for the night. She took a deep breath and confessed, “Because he’s my half brother, and he’s using you to get to me.”

A sharp vertical frown line creased Brit’s smooth forehead, his eyes searching her face for several long seconds. “Then he’s the one who sent you the note tellin’ you I was missing. We just need to figure out why he wanted you to leave that ball.”

Olivia shook her head and pulled Brit into a quick hug.

“Whot was that for?” He frowned, a blush rushing up his neck as he looked away and scratched his head.

Trying to buy time to reign in her emotions, she sat back and lifted a cloth from the bowl on the hearth, ringing out the pink-tinged water. “Hold this on your eye,” she instructed, and handed him the damp material. “I’m going to miss you the most, you know.”

Brit went very still, his unswollen eye locked on her face. “Ollie, no. We can fight this. What about Dodger?”

Finding an inner strength she didn’t know she possessed, Olivia replied with a steady voice, “Jack will still come by. But I can’t. It’s too risky.” She stood up and dusted the ashes from the seat of her trousers. “Besides, you don’t need a den mother anymore.”

Brit stood beside her, his one uncovered eye even with hers—and filled with tears. That almost broke her. Clenching her teeth until her jaw ached, she forced down her grief. To ensure this brilliant boy, and all the others, had a future, she would walk away. It was the only thing she could do to save them.

Olivia trudged down Oxford and turned onto Cavendish Square. When she’d left the hideout, the hackney had been long gone, but she didn’t hire another. The walk would do her good, perhaps help her make some sense of what had happened that night. But she was no closer to finding any answers. Reaching the security of her familiar, tree-lined street, the dam on her tears broke free. She’d left without a word to the boys. Only Brit knew the truth.

And Max. She’d longed for freedom to be with the man she loved. But it was not at all how she’d wanted it to happen. Max had been her friend, and she’d hoped to have the time to explain her decision. But his ultimatum had taken the choice right out of her hands.