“I’ll ask my question first. The Duke of Carlisle. What do you know of him?”
The two grooms looked at each other and shrugged. King fished in his waistcoat and found a couple of pennies—remnantsof his former life. He tossed them to the grooms, who caught them deftly. “He left Town,” one groom said, pocketing the coin.
“Why? Has it to do with the Marquess of Shrewsbury?”
“Lost everything to ’im, I ’eard,” the shorter groom said. “Don’t know if it’s true.”
“Everything?” King frowned. “What do you mean,everything? Surely not his title or his estates?”
The grooms shrugged again. Something this momentous would be in the papers. And there would be dozens of copies of every paper in London inside White’s. Unfortunately, King couldn’t go inside to read any of them.
The master of the house would toss the papers in the rubbish bin tomorrow when the new editions arrived. King could come back then and read one. If there was any hint as to where Henry might be, King could try to scrape together the funds to find him.
He turned his back on the grooms, who had returned to their game of dice, and walked away, avoiding St. James Street for fear of seeing someone he used to know. He didn’t have anywhere to go or anyone to see. No reason to stay in London. It would only remind him ofher.
Even now, Seven Dials called to him. Violet was there with her bluer-than-blue eyes and her long, dark hair and the scent of yeast and barley that seemed to cling to her. The pull of her was strong, but King had some pride left—not much, but enough to turn the other way. He’d told her how he felt, and she had made it clear she didn’t share his sentiments. No matter that he saw the fear in her eyes. No matter that he knew—yes, heknew—she had feelings for him.
But he couldn’t make her love him, and he wouldn’t try. He’d spent the first twenty years of his life trying to make his father love him. He couldn’t waste any more of his life trying to convince someone that he was worthy of their love. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong withhim that made him chronically unlovable. Maybe he’d spend the rest of his life alone.
He walked along streets and through parks until he was tired. He’d reached Hyde Park and spotted a bench, where he sat heavily. As soon as he stopped moving, the chill of the night air cut through him. King didn’t care. He was numb. He was tired. He lay down on the bench and stared up at the sky. The witch had realized her revenge after all. He’d taken everything from her, and now everything and everyone King cared about had been ripped away from him.
*
Joshua knew immediatelysomething was wrong. Vi came back into the tavern and took over the bar for him, telling him to go to bed. Her voice was hard and cold, and for once, Joshua didn’t argue. He didn’t like to leave her alone in the tavern, but then, she wasn’t alone. King was there.
Except when Joshua went to the back room, Kingwasn’tthere. His clothes were still lying about, though that pile had dwindled. Joshua looked in the yard for him, and in the flat, but King was nowhere to be found.
An uneasy sensation settled in Joshua’s belly, and he began to wash mugs and wait for King’s return. He couldn’t have gone far, and he wouldn’t be gone long.
But that uneasy sensation grew as the minutes passed and King didn’t return. Joshua heard the tone of Vi’s voice through the door. She was not herself. Something was amiss, and Joshua was beginning to fear that it might be King. Had he left them? No. He wouldn’t do that without a goodbye to himself and Georgie.
But then, why wasn’t he returning?
The last of the patrons left, and Joshua heard Vi closing and locking the tavern for the night. When she came into the back room, she started at seeing him. “I told you to go to bed,” she snapped.
“Where’s King?” he asked, ignoring her tone.
“Go to bed.” She swept past him and bolted the back door. Apparently, King wasn’t returning tonight.
“Did he leave?” Joshua asked. “Is he coming back tomorrow?”
Vi sighed and turned to face him, her expression hard and determined. It reminded him of the way she’d looked when she told him his mother had passed away. He didn’t like it. “He had to go, Joshua. You knew from the start that he was only here for a short time.”
Joshua shook his head. “But that was before we knew him. He was my friend. He wouldn’t just leave.” He narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”
Vi put her hands on her hips. “I didn’t do anything. He’s gone. Now go to bed, and don’t mention him to me again.”
Joshua didn’t argue. He stormed upstairs, tore off his clothing, and tumbled into bed. Georgie was sleeping, curled in a ball, and Joshua was glad for the warmth of his little brother. And yet he couldn’t fall asleep. There had been something comforting about knowing King was downstairs. He had felt safe. Now he felt angry and scared and confused. Why had King left them?
He was still lying awake when Vi came to bed. She went to her closet and closed the door, and he heard her lie down on the bed. Joshua closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but in the silence that fell, he heard something else.
Vi was crying.
*
Joshua was upand out of bed with the sun in the morning. Georgie groaned and rolled over but went right back to sleep when Joshua crept out of the flat. Vi had fallen asleep at some point in the night, probably exhausted from her tears. She almost never cried, and Joshua realized that he’d had it all wrong. It wasn’t her who had done something. It was King. And that rat-faced arse had promised Joshua that he’d never hurt Vi. Well, Joshua would make sure he was sorry.
He just had to find the man first.
