“I am offering you money, sir,” I say, struggling to keep my voice sweet and a little confused. “That is what you asked for.”
“It’s not enough.”
I look down at my hand to double-check the coins. Hell, yes, it’s enough. From Gray and Isla, I’ve learned more about charity than I knew in modern-day Vancouver, where I’d walk past panhandlers with an “I don’t see you” expression and make a mental note to donate to a shelter instead. Here, a few small coins go a long way. What I’m offering is double what he should expect.
“Forgive me, sir,” I say, “but I need my last shilling to get home again.”
“You can walk. You’ll give me that last shilling... and everything else in your pockets, along with that ring on your finger and the necklace?—”
“There you are,” a voice rumbles behind us. “I wondered where the devil you took off to.”
I turn to see Gray and bow my head. “I am sorry, sir. I tried to take a shortcut.”
He grunts. “And look where that got you.” He lifts his gaze to the man still holding my arm. “I am going to presume you are holding my assistant’s arm because you helped her up from an unfortunate fall.”
The man’s gaze sweeps up Gray and back down, his eyes narrowing as he assesses. Then he says, “If I did, I believe I am due some recompense. Who knows what could have befallen the child back here.”
Gray hands him a shilling. “There. Thank you for your kindness.”
The man looks at me, that narrow-eyed gaze telling me I still owe him the money I offered.
“How generous, sir,” I say to Gray. “I was about to pay this good man myself, but as you have done so, I will take my leave of him.” I look at the fingers gripping on my arm. “I am quite recovered, sir. You may remove your hand.”
The man hesitates. Gray tenses, jaw setting, and with another look at him, the man releases my arm, mutters something and disappears into the shadows again.
Gray ushers me along the alley, and I mutter, “Do not do that.”
“Do not do what? Rescue you from ruffians twice your size?”
I snort. “He was just a troll, guarding his bridge and demanding a fare for passage.”
“Which you had offered, and he was not accepting.”
“I was working it out.”
Gray looks down at me.
“You need to let me work it out, Duncan,” I say, my voice softer. “I do appreciate that you were close enough to intercede. If I hadn’t been able to get out of it, I’d also have appreciated actual intercession. But I need to find strategies for all situations in this world.”
“What would you have done in yours?”
I consider as we step onto another street. “If he’d just asked, I’d have given him money. Grabbing my arm changes things. That’s a threat. I’d have shown him not to expect women to be easy marks.”
“And you would not do that in this world?”
I turn a look on him. “Remember why I spent a night in jail this spring? Also, knocking him down is a whole lot harder in this body and this clothing.”
“All right. So I should watch until you need my help? Presumably signaling to you that I am near.”
“Mmm. Signaling me means I know I have backup, which changes things, but sure. Signal me and then stand down until the last possible moment.”
“The split second between him pulling out a knife and ramming it between your ribs?”
“Pfft. I’m wearing a cloak, dress, corset cover, and corset. He’d better have a sharp knife and a sharper sense of anatomy.”
Gray sighs and steers me around a woman passed out drunk.
“I’m guessing we lost Lewis?” I say.
