“Oh, no you don’t.” She jumped in front of him before he could start for her bedchamber. “After all the damage you caused, you can help with the tidying up.”
King looked down at her, his green eyes full of amusement. She wished he did not have such lovely eyes. They distracted her. “You want me to sweep,” he said, and it was an incredulous statement, not a question.
“Sweep, mop, wipe the counters and walls. I must open tomorrow, and it will take all of us working together to make that happen.”
“I admire your drive, but I am still a marquess. I do not sweep tavern floors.”
“And you still owe me seven pounds, fifteen shillings. Until you pay me, you’ll sweep, mop, and wash windows, if I say. March, my lord.” She pointed to the door and tried very hard not to show her surprise when he actually complied with her order.
Chapter Six
This was notthe first time someone had tried to force King to engage in manual labor. He’d had any number of headmasters who had attempted to beat him into obedience, and when that didn’t work, they’d impose punishments of backbreaking work. Henry, Rory, and he had always found a way out of those punishments. Today was no different. An hour after Miss Sunshine had put a mop in his hand, King was outside the Silver Unicorn attempting to juggle three corks. He just needed to stay out of the way until the work was done for the day, or until one of his friends came to retrieve him.
“What are you doing?” came a small voice.
King looked down at the little boy, Georgie. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you are tossing corks in the air.”
“I’m juggling.”
“That’s not how you juggle.”
King bristled. “You think you can do better?”
Georgie held out a hand. King dropped the corks into it. Georgie began by tossing one then added the second and finally the third. Apparently, the boycoulddo better.
“Where did you learn that?” King asked.
“Joshua taught me. He knows all sorts of tricks.”
King wondered what those tricks might be, but just then another small child appeared. This one looked to be of a similar age to Georgie. “Georgie, come play kick the ball with us!”
Georgie caught each cork neatly. “I have to ask Vi.”
“Aww. She’ll say no.” Then the little urchin looked at King. “Ask your new pa.”
King took a step back at the words. “I’m not—” But he caught Georgie’s pleading look. He didn’t know why, but it seemed the child wanted him to pretend to be his father.
“Er—Pa?” Georgie said.
King just stared at him.
“Pa?” Georgie cleared his throat. “Can I go kick the ball with Danny?” When King still didn’t speak, Georgie nudged him with a foot. “You have to give me an answer,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Erm—yes?”
“Thanks, Pa!” Georgie gave him an enormous smile and ran off to follow Danny. A moment later, he returned, dropped the corks, which were now sticky, into King’s hand, and took off running.
That had felt good, King thought. No harm in telling the young lad he could go play with friends. The boy was too young to be stuck inside a tavern cleaning.
“Georgie!” came a distant voice from inside. King winced and moved a little away from the door, hoping Miss Baker wouldn’t see him if she poked her head out.
He was attempting to juggle again when Joshua returned from delivering his letters. “No circus would hire you,” the young man said.
“You say that as though it’s a bad thing.”
“When I get old enough, I plan to run away with the circus. I know a few tricks.”
