The Runaway

Chapter 1

October1843

I cradled Matthew to my chest, searching desperately for shelter. We had been evicted from our space over a week ago and no one would employ me. I was far too pregnant to be able to hide my condition from anyone. My money was running thin, most of it going to feed my son. I hadn't had a proper meal in weeks. My movements, as lethargic as they were, moved us along the bustling streets of London. My body ached for a bed, for anything more than water. I feared that my baby would not survive much longer.

"Momma," Matthew moaned, fisting his hands around my collar. I knew he was starving beyond belief. I only had enough change for one small meal left for the two of us. Very few vendors would sell to me, and I was afraid that we would starve. I had already begged three vendors, but because of my state, their pious ideals refused my business.

"I know, my love. Just a few more minutes," I whispered, pressing another kiss to his head. I hated to see him suffering, but it was better than staying with his father.

"I miss Aunty."

"I do too, my love. She's still trying to leave Uncle without him noticing." That bastard of a man had his minions looking for Emmet and I for months. Luckily, Isabella had an ally, Mr. Green, who was our courier. Richard made my blood boil under my skin. He had the audacity to abuse Isabella and me, to neglect his daughters and favor Matthew. He treated me like my father treated my mother, like my brother treated me. They made me sick to my core.

"I want to go home," He whispered, looking into my eyes. I had nothing to say. I knew he wanted to go home, as did I. But I could not endanger our lives any longer. I was nearly knocked off my feet from my lack of attention, and the poor innocent passerby had stumbled as well. I clutched Matthew closer as well as my stomach, out of fear I suppose.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" A man asked, grabbing my upper arms. I flinched out of his grasp, a gross habit I had. My gaze snapped to his and I froze. I had never seen such kindness in one man's eyes before. He looked troubled, conflicted really. His hands felt like hot iron on me, searing themselves into my arms.

"Aaron, stop flirting and get over here," the man shouted, turning his head slightly. This other man, Aaron, I guess, came jogging over. The men looked so similar, yet, they were not. The way they carried themselves labeled them undeniably as aristocrats, but their faces were soft and caring.

"I'm not flirting, old man. Where's the fire?" Aaron came to an abrupt halt, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Daniel, what's going on? Do I need to get the constable?"

"Get Uncle Edgar and bring him back to the house, she needs help. Hurry, and do not stop to talk to a 'pretty woman'." The man ordered, releasing me for only a moment. He wrapped an arm around my waist and placed the other on Matthew's back. If I had the strength, I would have shied away from him.

"I promise, I won't hurt you, Ma'am. You need help, that's all I am trying to do. You just have to trust me." He begged, looking into my eyes. I knew I didn't have a choice. Matthew needed this. My unborn child needed this. I nodded my head before pressing a kiss to my son's head.

The gentlemen did not live far from the market place, their house was much nicer than I had ever expected. Compared to Richard's jail, this place was a home. I could feel the love and laughter exploding as soon as we entered the threshold. It felt as if children had run amuck on several occasions, made noteworthy paintings and even sang silly children's songs. It felt like the kind of home that my son and my nieces deserved.

"Sarah, Annie, I am in need of your assistance!" The man yelled, escorting me to the couch. Two women, short in stature, came running out of a side room.