Chapter Sixteen

"J osie, you have to quit moving," Simon whispered as he tried to keep his pup from squirming. "Settle down and get comfortable, girl. We have t'be very quiet, Josie. Miss Lizzie needs us, so we need to stay close to her. Shh! I hear voices. They're coming."

The little dog seemed to understand his plea and, after spinning around once, finally curled up next to Simon's head and placed her head protectively over his. They stayed as still as they could while the carriage groaned and moved as people climbed aboard. "I love you, Josie," Simon whispered. "You're my best friend."

As though she could comprehend, the little dog licked his ear. It tickled and made Simon bite his lip to keep from laughing. Josie loved to lick his ears. He probably had the cleanest ears of anyone he knew.

With his head up against the front of the box, he could see Miss Lizzie's booted feet through the decorative holes in the bench. He was relieved, as all the holes made it easier to breathe. Miss Lizzie was sitting on the bench next to Lady Beadle, opposite where he and Josie were hiding. It wasn't the most comfortable way to ride in a carriage, but at least he'd be dry. He thought back to when he rode in the back of the tinker's wagon to get away from the Man. It had been his only chance to escape, and he had been cold, wet, and hungry. And determined.

The Man hadn't recognized him the other day when Simon saw him across the street from the Sweet Shoppe, nor did the Man spot him that morning, which gave Simon hope he would continue to have good luck. He needed to watch out for Miss Lizzie because the Man had been staring at her. Simon had seen a wolf look at a rabbit like that once. He didn't know why the Man wanted Miss Lizzie, but he had seen him snatch his brother and other children to work in chimneys. They had no choice but to go.

The Man was the meanest person Simon had ever known. He didn't care about what he did to others or how many of Simon's friends died in the chimneys, or under rocks when a tunnel collapsed. The small boy sent a silent prayer to God to watch over his baby brother, Bobby. Not a day went by that Simon didn't think of Bobby. No way would he have left his brother behind, but the Man had separated them. Simon didn't know where the Man had taken Bobby. But he knew he had to stay alive to find his brother. After seeing all the boys who died because of the Man, he knew he had to save himself.

But one day I will find you, Bobby, and I'll get you away from the Man.

*

Lizzie settled in her seat and snugged her pelisse closer around her neck, hoping they had bright sunshine on their trip. The black coach wouldn't draw too much attention. And she liked the midnight-blue color of the leather seats and the four small lamps, two on each side. Having light while traveling early in the morning or after sundown would be nice.

She moved the black curtains aside and glanced out the window at the dreary clouds lining the sky and noticed the sun peeking from behind them. She hoped it would make a full appearance. She loved sunny mornings, although snuggling under a warm blanket with a cup of chocolate and a book on a cloudy morning was a cozy way to spend an hour or two. Lizzie hated traveling during a rainstorm, fearing the winding roads and the mud could slow them down, or worse, lead to an accident or a loose wheel. A shudder shook her.

"You're cold. Take more of this blanket, my dear," Lady Beadle suggested. "We have a long ride ahead, and you must take care of yourself. The last thing you need is to catch a fever on the journey to Lord and Lady Romney's house. How will you care for your brother if you are ill?"

The carriage opened on the other side, and Lord Armstrong climbed in. "I apologize for my tardiness."

"Don't give it a thought, William. But we are glad to get underway," Lady Beadle said.

"Ah, well, you know how insistent my darling Celia is," he said, adjusting his coat beneath him. "At the last minute, she insisted I add lemonade and her favorite oatmeal and raisin biscuits to the hamper. The biscuits are fresh from the oven. I'll admit…they are good."

"It won't be long before I'll be wanting one or two of those," mumbled Lady Beadle. "Your cook uses those plump, sweet raisins. I can almost taste them."

"We anticipated that," Lord Armstrong said. As if summoned, one of the footmen opened the door and handed him a small wicker basket. "Thank you, James." The footman nodded and closed the door.

Lizzie couldn't help but laugh. "I've never tasted oatmeal biscuits, but they sound delicious."

"Ladies, we have a footman and four outriders, so don't be alarmed to see men on horseback around us," Lord Armstrong said. "I wanted to ensure we had no trouble on the way to Folkestone."

All Lizzie had thought about since receiving Edward and Bethany's letters was her injured brother—she could think of nothing else. But as the carriage lurched forward, signaling the beginning of their trip, she couldn't shake the unease that enveloped her. The Armstrongs' carriage was new and plush inside, and without the kind of flashy monogram that was on many of the aristocracy's carriages. She was grateful for that, because highwaymen targeted the fancier carriages. Despite the armed outriders, she wanted to ask Lord Armstrong if he too was armed, but held her tongue. She was being ridiculous. This was not the first trip he had arranged. And he had taken their safety very seriously—much more seriously than she could have arranged. She had been prepared to take a mail coach to reach her brother if necessary.

"What do you think, Lizzie?" Lady Beadle asked, bringing Lizzie's focus back to the conversation.

"I'm sorry. I suppose I was woolgathering. Forgive me," Lizzie said.

"We will travel as far as is reasonable but will need to stop for the night to rest the horses," Lord Armstrong said. "I sent a footman ahead to make arrangements. We were discussing having a short stop in a few hours and having refreshments. Would that suit you?"

"Oh, yes. That would be lovely. I would like nothing better than to stretch my legs in a few hours."

"Excellent," the viscount said, withdrawing a small book from his pocket. "I brought along some reading material and hope you won't find me rude if I read it. It's research for a bill I plan to propose in Parliament when I return."

"Certainly. I brought a book along, too. I was hoping it would take my mind off worrying about Michael," Lizzie said, withdrawing her copy of Emma and opening it to the beginning, determined this time to read past the first chapter. Despite her efforts to like the heroine, thus far, Lizzie found her unlikeable because of her snobbishness. After what she had been through with Peter's family, she had little patience for the narrow-minded elite. Had Lady Beadle not purchased it for her, she might have discarded it.

"Oh, wonderful. You brought Emma . I thought the book had considerable merit. I don't want to spoil it for you, but I quite liked the way the heroine finds her way," Lady Beadle said. "I hope you don't mind." The older woman lifted a small satchel. "I brought my satin pillow, just in case the stimulating conversation fails to keep me awake."

Lizzie snorted as the carriage hit a bump. "Oh dear! I apologize. How unladylike of me." She could feel the heat making its way up her neck. However, thinking again of Lady Beadle's comment made her smile. "My apologies, Millie. I just realized how it must have seemed when I pulled out my book. Of course, I'd find conversation much more fun, but I assumed everyone would want to read."

"Pish!" Lady Beadle said, laughing. "Besides, I almost brought a book. But each time I try to read it, I fall asleep. So I decided to bring a pillow instead." She gave a sly smile.

Lord Armstrong and Lizzie laughed.

A thumping noise followed by a muted whimper beneath Lord Armstrong's bench drew their attention.

"Shh. Hush, Josie. They'll hear us."

Lady Beadle narrowed her eyes and nodded toward the bench, where the thumping had resumed. "I think we have visitors."

Lord Armstrong tapped on the ceiling, and the carriage stopped. He stood and lifted the bench, and Josie hopped out, followed by Simon, who stood and brushed off his waistcoat and pants.

"Simon! What are you doing here?" Lizzie exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Miss Lizzie, but we snuck in when I saw the Man watching you this morning. He was watching you like he did others before he took 'em. Me and Josie was walking this morning and saw him. I couldn't let 'im hurt you."

Lizzie hugged Simon. She had felt as though someone was watching her this morning as they were loading things into the carriage. But from where? She had hoped this trip would take her away from the ghastly Lord Blackwood and his lifeless eyes.

She could have kissed Simon for his courage and bravery, even though he was sneaky about it. His admission made her feel that she wasn't imagining things, that Blackwood had indeed been spying on her. Surely she could now leave that nightmare behind.

"That's quite a story. Do you happen to know the name of this individual who was watching Mrs. Pritchett?" Lord Armstrong asked.

"He's the Man. That's all anyone ever called him. He took my brother and made him work in the chimneys. Took those of us who got too big to slip up the chimney and made us dig tunnels. Two of my friends died when the tunnels collapsed. He didn't care. And when he looked at Miss Lizzie, it was like she belonged to him. The same way he looked at Miss Lizzie this morning. I couldn't let him take her." Simon's voice broke. "Lady Beadle, please don't be mad at me and Josie."

"Why didn't you tell someone you saw him staring at Miss…Mrs. Pritchett this morning?" Lord Armstrong asked gently.

"Mostly because I was thinking I needed to find a way to go, and I was studying the carriage."

"Sweet boy. We aren't mad at you," Lady Beadle said. "I do wish you had let us know. Mr. Kingsley will be worried. But we would enjoy your company on our trip. I'll have to send word as soon as I can."

Lizzie saw tears welling in Simon's eyes, but he brushed them away. "He's not making this up," she blurted. "I felt someone staring at me this morning but tried to tell myself I was imagining things. I looked around but didn't see anyone…this time."

"Were there other times, Lizzie?" Lord Armstrong asked.

She nodded. "I saw him staring up at the dining room window after breakfast."

"He was staring at us while we were shopping—from across the street," Lady Beadle added.

"No, I saw him. The Man was staring at you , Miss Lizzie," Simon said.

Lizzie shuddered.

"Did you recognize him when he was watching you?" Lord Armstrong asked.

Lizzie nodded. "Lord Percival Blackwood."

Lord Armstrong blinked. "Are you certain?"

"Yes," Lady Beadle said. "I saw him too. And don't forget, Lizzie, he also accosted you the night of the party."

The viscount ran his hand through his hair. "I wish I had known about this. Unfortunately, I can do little about it until I return to London."

Simon shook his head. "You don't understand. The Man doesn't only live in London. He also lives near the water. That's where the caves are—where he made us build tunnels. I ran away. That's why I was on my own with Josie. I had no place to go—and I didn't want the Man to find me."

Lizzie couldn't shake an impending feeling of dread. She glanced out the window, thankful for the outriders and Lord Armstrong's presence, and was also glad Simon and Josie were safe with her and Lady Beadle. But despite the added protection, she was worried—and she couldn't help but shake the sense of fear that had permeated her to the core. She prayed they would get to the Romney estate and Edward and Michael without delays. Edward, Lord Armstrong, and their friends would know what to do about Blackwood. And she could remain at Graceview helping Bethany tend to Michael with dear Lady Beadle, Simon, and Josie safely with them.