My Fair Marchioness (Scandalous Affairs Book 3) by Christi Caldwell (best short books to read txt) 📗

his cue from a woman who’d proven herself entirely more honorable than he, Harris fell to a knee. Reaching inside his jacket, he removed a purse, and withdrawing several sovereign from the little sack, he placed them into her little palm.

The beggar child’s eyes went enormous. “Blimey,” she whispered and then quickly folded her hand around the coins and darted off.

One by one, other little girls rushed over for an offering, and Harris divided up the monies he carried.

“Are ye a prince?” one of the girls asked, her voice rich with wonderment.

“Oh, hardly.” Reaching behind her ear, he made a show of removing a coin and presenting it before her. “More like a magician.”

She giggled and swiped that coin from him before darting off.

Over the top of the curly head of one of the children, his gaze locked with Julia’s.

Her eyes were soft in ways he’d never before seen them. The smile on her full mouth was romantic, and he, who’d never understood—nay, never believed—a man could truly be besotted by any woman beyond anything that was sexual, at last understood the plight of those fools.

Another little tug on his jacket jerked him back to the moment, and he resumed passing out every remaining coin he had. When none remained, and too many disappointed children wandered off, their dirt-stained features stamped with disappointment, it was like Harris took a fist to the gut.

A little girl hovered there, staring hopefully up. “Ye sure ye don’t got any more?”

His heart ached for the desperation there in the little girl’s face. And in her, he saw…Julia. Julia as she’d surely been when she’d been the same age as the child before him.

Harris felt the front of his jacket, and then lifted a finger up. “I have it.” He fished his timepiece out; gold and etched with his initials.

As one, Julia and the little girl gasped.

“Here you are,” he murmured, over their joint shock, and he pressed the timepiece into her tiny palm.

The moment the gold touched the girl’s fingers, she took off running.

Harris looked to Julia. “Shall we—?”

She stared back with horror-filled eyes.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Why would you do that?” she demanded.

He furrowed his brow, and cast confused glance about. “Do what?”

“You gave her your timepiece,” Julia said flatly.

He looked at her, and he’d wager he looked as confused as he felt. “And?”

“And?” Julia echoed, and then releasing a sound of exasperation, she tossed her arms up. “Because you don’t do it, Harris,” she whispered. “You’ll get the girl killed.” With that, she marched off.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said, rushing after her.

Heading for the carriage, Julia didn’t even break stride, not so much as pausing to glance back. “It wouldn’t to you.”

“Then explain it to me,” he pressed when he finally managed to reach her side.

A servant drew the door open. “Because you put her in harm’s way,” she said bluntly.

With that, Julia took Stebbin’s hand and allowed the young man to help her inside the carriage.

Frowning, Harris scrambled in behind her.

The servant shut the door with a hard, decisive click.

“I put her in harm’s way by giving her a timepiece.”

“You made her a mark.” Julia spoke to him the way she might have delivered a lesson to any one of those children who’d gathered about her a short while ago. “A target.”

And in a way, he was as lost as them, shockingly and embarrassingly so. Mayhap even more. “I’m afraid I don’t understand how giving them an item of value is any different than providing them with funds.”

“Coins can be easily hidden and are invariably quickly spent. They’ll fill a belly with food that will be quickly consumed and then gone. They can purchase boots, which are personalized, and that narrows the number of people who might attempt to filch them from a person.” Her dark irises grew haunted, her sightless gaze sluicing through him. “But items of such wealth, a timepiece, a cloak, they stand out when the last thing people in East London can afford is to stand out. People…” Her voice fell to a haunted whisper. “Terrible ones, they will kill to take those items.”

Her words painted a dark image of a ruthless world, a dog-eat-dog one lived in by only the most vulnerable, fighting for basic survival. His entire body… hurt. Her revelations, so matter-of-factly stated, left him gutted inside. “Is this what it was like for you?” he asked, his voice hoarse. Had someone inadvertently, through their attempt at generosity, put her in harm’s way? Oh, God. Once again, shame weighed on him as he was presented once more with the extent of his own self-absorption that he’d failed to understand what her life had been like and what the lives of so many were like.

“This is what it is like for everyone here, Harris,” she said simply.

It didn’t escape his notice that she’d failed to answer him, and in so doing, she’d only confirmed that nauseating fear in the pit of his stomach. He recalled their first meeting, finding her in the duchess’ parlor. She’d been attired in a garment that had revealed its wear and age, but had also revealed an item of value. “The cloak.” Those two words came past a thickened throat.

Julia gave him a questioning look.

“You were gifted that cloak.”

“She meant well, the young lady who handed it over,” Julia murmured, confirming his worst worrying. “But yes, it set us apart. It made whichever of us wore it a target.” Her eyes slid shut, and her face tensed. “It is why I allowed her to keep the article, but only to wear it in our apartments.”

“Who?”

The lady blinked slowly. “Beg pardon?”

“Who did you allow to keep it?” he asked, that question compelled not by the earlier suspicion