“He’s not trouble,” Georgie said, hugging the marquess’s leg.
“Yes, he is. Look, you’re already getting attached to him.”
King set the clothes down on the bar. “What are you really afraid of, Miss Baker? First you said I wasn’t helpful. Then I was trouble. Then your brother is becoming attached to me. I think no matter what anyone says, you’ll find an excuse.”
Yes, she would. Because she did not want him here. She didn’t know what she really was afraid of.
Well, yes, she did. She was afraid of him and of her body’s reaction when he was close. Moreover, she was afraidshewould become attached to him, need him, and she knew he would never stay. He’d disappear as soon as the opportunity arose. She could not afford to rely on anyone but herself.
But when she looked at her brothers, at the hope in their eyes, she couldn’t be the one to dash that hope. She was alwaysthe one delivering bad news, the one telling them they couldn’t have this or that. It was exhausting.
She closed her eyes. “I will certainly regret this,” she said. “You can stay.” The boys cheered, and she held up a hand to silence them. “Only until the two pounds, fifteen shillings is paid. And I’ll take room and board out of your wages too.”
“That means you’ll be here a long time,” Georgie told him. “It will take years to pay all that back.”
“Not years,” Violet said. “But a few weeks, at least.” She couldn’t trust him to stay here longer than that or trust herself not to do something stupid, like throw herself at him.
“I accept,” King said. “That’s the word of a gentleman. Once I’ve given my word, I keep it.”
Violet snorted. “If you say so.”
He started for the back room. “Now, I’ll just take these clothes upstairs and put them away.”
“You’re not sleeping upstairs,” she said.
King paused and looked back at her. “You have another bed somewhere?”
“You can sleep in the back room. That way if anyone enters the tavern when we’re sleeping, you’ll hear and chase them away.”
He narrowed his eyes then moved into the back room and looked about. “There’s no bed in here.”
“It’s a good thing you have all those clothes, then. I’m sure the pile of them will be comfortable. Plus, there’s a small stove we use for heating water and cooking. If you can find coal, you can use it to keep warm.”
“Find coal? Am I to work in a mine? One buys coal.”
“No money for that,” she told him.
“You have five—”
“Now, excuse me while I purchase something for supper. I’ll be back shortly. Bar the door behind me.”
She grasped a basket on her way past the bar and walked quickly through the tavern, eager to be back before full dark fell. It was strange to have the Silver Unicorn quiet and dark at this time of the day. Now that she had King, she’d be able to open tomorrow. She’d use the blunt she had to purchase spirits, and the customers would have to stand until she could afford more tables and chairs.
She walked to the corner, keeping her head down, and her money in her fist in her pocket. A small but sharp dagger was strapped to her thigh just below where she’d tied on her pockets. Both were accessible through the slit in her skirts. At the corner, she spotted Charlie Apples. She supposed his name wasn’t actually Charlie Apples, but everyone called him that because he sold apples.
“Hullo, Charlie,” she said. “Three apples, please.” Then she remembered King. “Make that four,” she said, grudgingly.
Charlie lowered the sack on his back and produced four small, bruised apples. “Here you are, Vi. Look at these beauties.”
She gave him the coin and waited while he made change. Then she placed the apples in her basket and put the change in her pocket, inside her fist.
“Looks like the Silver Unicorn is closed tonight,” he said.
“Archie didn’t feel well,” she said, aware passersby might be listening. “But I have a new publican until Archie feels better. We’ll be open tomorrow.”
“Who’s the new man?” Charlie asked.
“No one you’d know,” she said, and started away.
