To Deceive A Duke

Chapter 14

Clarissa takes the quickest route out of Whitechapel, wanting to put as much distance between her and the Cavendish brothers as possible. Her heart is still pounding from the encounter, she can't quite believe she held her nerve that long. The way both men looked at her could scare the bravest of souls into surrender. She is relieved when she recognises the edge of Whitechapel's borders, but her relief is short-lived when she crosses into the Cavendish controlled City area. 

Now Daniel knows her face, it won't be long before his people do too. She keeps her head down and doesn't make eye contact with anyone, trying to blend in as a first-class lady on a morning stroll. She hovers by the tailors, pretending to admire the ribbons decorating the window displays while straining to hear any nearby conversations. After a few futile attempts, she gives up on her eavesdropping and heads towards The Strand. She turns down a particularly busy street and catches a glimpse of a boy's cheeky eyes that has her stopping on the pavement. She quickly crosses over to him and before he can react she grabs him by the ear and drags him into a shadowy corner of a nearby alley. The papers in his hands go flying into the dirt along with her parasol. 

"Oi my papers," Iwan shouts, squirming in her grasp. She ignores his struggles, holding his tight.

"What are you doing here?" She demands, her voice firm.

"Selling the news of course." He says, sticking his chin out defiantly. "I got to make money."

"Why are you selling in The City?" She rephrases, her temper threatening to rise. She crouches down so she can look directly into his eyes. He shifts trying to get away but she seizes his shoulders and holds him still. "Tell me."

"Peter sent me to look." He says, avoiding looking at her face, he tucks his chin in and turns his head. His eyes fixed on his worn shoes. 

She shakes him but not hard enough to hurt, "Do not even think of lying to me."

 Iwan starts stamping his feet, tears forming and threatening to pour down his cheeks, "I am scared," He cries, sniffling. Clarissa waits for him to elaborate but he just pouts at her.

"Scared of what?" She asks, more gently, crouching down so her face is level with his, "What's wrong?"

"I am scared for Flo, for Mary and Anne." He says quietly, "I don't want them to die."

"Iwan they aren't going to die, they are protected." She says, her heart breaking at how small his voice sounds, "I know it's unsettling to read about the dead girls in the news but that's not going to happen to our girls."

"Are more people going to die?" He asks. She sighs, such difficult questions from such a young boy. 

"I don't know," She says finally, unwilling to lie to him, "But I am going to try to stop it."

Iwan nods, subdued.

"Hey," She lightly knocks his chin up so she can look into his eyes, "Promise me you won't do anymore independent snooping." 

"I promise." He mutters reluctantly, he quickly throws his arms around her shoulders. He squeezes her and her heart warms slightly. He smells like a mixture of cigar smoke and fresh bread. When they pull apart his forehead is creased, she straightens up and smiles, amused.

"Looking for this?" Her purse dangles off her wrist, taunting the young boy. He scowls but makes no move to grab it. 

"Let's go home." She orders, picking up her discarded parasol and nudging him in the back with it. 

He begrudgingly follows her. On the way, he talks her ear off about how Peter is finally letting him shoot a normal pistol as opposed to the small one he was given for his 7th birthday.  He rambles on about his training and education and Clarissa is delighted to hear about his progress in school as well as his improvement as a fighter.