“So why do you look like one then?” Poppy glanced up and down the ragged clothing and fought to keep her smile from breaking free when the young boy tugged at his tattered trousers and poked his stick-thin leg out.
“I don’t know where ya come from lady, but round ‘ere boys wear pants.”
“Oh,” she nodded with a glance at the rest of the group. “Well, in your gang, it seems the girls also wear pants,” she mused with a nod toward the group.
The boy frowned at his friends for a moment while he thought about that. Indeed, a girl in pigtails stood at the edge of them wearing a pair of over-sized trousers held securely at her waist with what appeared to be a piece of tatty rope.
“I think you need to distance yourself a little, just so you don’t get misunderstood.” She grabbed his bony shoulder and physically turned the young boy around to face his friends. “Now, run along before I clock you one with this very heavy carpet bag I am carrying, and you have a very harsh lesson in curiosity – and swimming.”
“Swimmin’?” The b
oy peered over his shoulder suspiciously at her and then looked doubtfully at the river, as though he had never seen one before in his life, and the thought of getting wet horrified him.
She nodded meaningfully toward the river. “Swimming,” she declared coldly. “I think you could do with a wash, young man,” she added in her most matronly voice.
She propelled him rather forcefully forward and watched him take a couple of steps and then turn around hesitantly. Her eyes met his for several moments. He lost some of his belligerence beneath the firm look she levelled on him but, unfortunately, that didn’t appear to put him off his task of robbing her. He had been sent to her to empty her pockets, and he clearly didn’t want to surrender the temptation of earning a few bob. Although she didn’t immediately turn around, she was aware of someone approaching from behind, and rather suspected it wasn’t the man she was here to meet. The person walking toward her, step by solitary step, was not much bigger than his partner in crime.
“I know your kind work in twos, but if you think for a second that this lady is a soft target, I can assure you that you are sorely mistaken,” she declared a little more loudly. She knew from the way the figure behind her immediately froze that he was indeed another of the urchin’s friends and clutched her bag tighter in preparation for the imminent attack.
Losing her patience now that gentlemanly help was nearby, she glared at the boy behind her. “I said no, now go away and take your friend with you.”
The urchin glanced at the man and then looked back at his friends who were shifting impatiently, clearly eager to be on their way now that a witness was nearby. Before Poppy could tell him again to leave her alone the lad behind her suddenly lunged for her bag at the same time that the urchin raced toward her.
“No,” Poppy protested as she was seemingly engulfed in grasping hands that pulled at her clothing as well as her bag.
She kicked out at one of the youngsters, who cried out in pain when she caught him on his thigh. Thankfully, he hobbled off clutching his offending limb. Poppy hesitated. She wanted to help him but before she could even try to step forward, the wiry boy behind her suddenly grabbed for her bag again. She clung on for dear life and screamed. Caught by surprise at the swiftness of the assault, she was horrified that the boy nearly succeeded in snatching her valuable bag out of her hands. Determined not to lose so much money she slapped his wrist with her free hand as hard as she could. The audible slapping against his flesh began to leave red marks, but he stubbornly refused to release his hold. Instead, he planted both booted feet and put his weight behind his tugging. In doing so, Poppy began to be dragged along the path by him.
“Here, you boy,” the gentleman suddenly shouted, having witnessed the assault.
The rapid thump of footsteps as he raced toward them bolstered Poppy’s courage, and she began to prise the boy’s fingers off the handle of the bag at the same time she tried to kick him.
“I will see you behind bars for this, you scroat,” she snapped.
“Gotta catch me first,” the boy suddenly grinned as he let go of the bag and raced toward his friends. He ducked and dived around the stranger barrelling toward them, and burst out laughing when the gentleman nearly fell over when he grabbed nothing but thin air. The lad cockily took a moment to stop running to throw taunts at the gentleman before he re-joined his friends. Eventually, satisfied that he hadn’t lost face after all, the boy and his gang all disappeared down the path, their laughter echoing hollowly on the stunned silence they left behind.
“Are you all right?” Luke demanded as he strode toward her.
“Yes, thank you. I am just a little shaken, that’s all,” she replied as she pushed awkwardly to her feet and began to brush dirt off her soiled dress.
“Good. Stay there,” he ordered. He didn’t wait to see if she would do as she was told. With his quarry so close, Luke raced after the gang he was there to catch. In contrast to the way he looked; the numerous hours he spent in the saddle working for the Star Elite made him incredibly fit, and he had no difficulty catching up with the youngest of the gang whose much shorter legs and new bruising left him slower and weaker than his associates. Determined to capture at least one of them now that he had them in his sights, Luke barely gave the distressed young woman a second look as he hunted down his prey. Having selected the one he was going to capture, he studied the rest of the group and tried to memorise as much of their features as he could for a later time. He suspected that he had already seen enough to be able to recognise most of them again if he happened to come across them in the street and, as he gave chase, he promised himself that he would cross their paths again.
Hoping that Marcus or Joshua were near the main gates to be able to catch one of them on their way past, Luke lengthened his stride and settled in for a long run.
CHAPTER TWO
Left beside the river, Poppy stared after the rather handsome gentleman and watched the powerful way his long legs ate up the distance as he chased after the youngsters. His entire demeanour, from the cut of his clothing to the proud, almost aristocratic way he carried himself screamed of a power and social status that went far beyond hers.
Why then was he chasing after those pick-pockets with all the determination of a pit-bull? Why was he even bothering? Normal aristocracy wouldn’t be seen dead running anywhere in public, least of all after a gang of tearaways who outnumbered him six to one, yet this man was racing after them as though his very life depended on it.
“Good luck,” she whispered after him, surprised by his determination to keep up with children at least twenty years his junior.
She had never seen anyone like him before. London was full of aristocratic gentlemen but none of them were like this one purported to be. This man was different. She couldn’t tear her gaze away and watched him right up until the moment he disappeared from sight.
As soon as he had gone she wished he would come back, and not only because she disconcertingly found that she wanted to see him again. Just knowing there was another adult around, especially someone tall and strong like him, made her feel considerably safer.
“Oh dear,” she whispered. “Is he the one I am supposed to meet?”
Inwardly she hoped so, but then again hoped not because he would then be an acquaintance of Clarence’s, and a somewhat dubious one at that.