Page 45 of The Pursuit of Lord Kit Cavanaugh

That had been nearly an hour ago, and the cold had long ago seeped through Kit’s coat. Rather than his usual greatcoat, for the occasion he’d had Gordon find an older, more threadbare jacket, a caution he was now regretting.

He blew on his hands.

Then the door to the Cockle and Crake swung open, and on a gust of warmer air, two slight figures stumbled into the street.

The Stenshaw lads were well away.

Kit smiled wolfishly, then glanced at Smiggs, who nodded. Together, they stepped out of the alley and followed silently in the Stenshaw boys’ weaving wake.

The youths were so drunk, they didn’t notice the larger men trailing them.

As he’d arranged with Smiggs, Kit waited until the boys reached the runnel that ran down the side of their mother’s house.

Then he and Smiggs pounced. They each caught one boy by the collar, hauling him up and back and slapping a gloved hand over his mouth to muffle any cry.

Once he and Smiggs had the boys subdued—simply by twisting their collars until they were in danger of choking—Kit lowered his head and murmured, loud enough for both boys to hear, “You don’t want to rouse the household and have your mother see you like this.”

Both boys froze.

In the dimness, Kit smiled. “Good. Now, if you remain quiet and answer my questions truthfully, my friend and I might let you go without any further damage. Do you understand?”

Above the gloves covering half their faces, both boys’ eyes showed white, and they quickly nodded.

“Right, then.” Kit eased his hand from the face of the boy he held, and the youth sucked in a quick breath. But he made no sound beyond a faint, frightened whimper.

“First,” Kit said, “you can tell me about the fire you set behind the school on Saturday.”

He didn’t have to press; both boys immediately started gabbling about how it had been only a lark, and that they’d just thought to make their mother happy by getting the school to move, and much more in that vein. At no point did either boy think to deny they’d set and lit the fire.

Once they ran down—by which time both were sniveling—Kit said, “Very well. Now, what about the break-in at the workshop on the Grove?”

The boy facing him blinked at him uncomprehendingly, while the boy Kit held before him turned his head to frown in puzzlement at Kit. “What?”

They weren’t that good actors; they weren’t acting at all.

“We don’t know about any workshop,” came from the boy Smiggs held, while the boy Kit restrained blurted, “We haven’t been anywhere near the Grove.”

Both boys’ eyes were wide; Kit could sense their welling panic, no doubt occasioned by his sudden switch to events unknown to them.

Kit met Smiggs’s gaze, saw his longtime henchman fractionally shake his head, and inwardly sighed. He thought for a moment, then lightly shook the boy whose collar he held. “Have you been following the lady from the school, thinking to unnerve her?”

All he received were puzzled blinks.

Lips tightening, he persisted, “Someone has been following her. Was it you?”

“No,” they chorused.

The pair exchanged a look, then the one in Smiggs’s grip said, “We never thought of that.”

“Don’t,” Kit advised, his tone promising instant and terrible retribution. He caught first one, then the other boy’s eyes. “In fact,” he went on, in that same chilling tone, “I would strongly recommend that you both give everything and everybody associated with the school a very wide berth. That includes the teachers, the pupils, and anyone who visits. Should I find you’ve approached or interfered in any way—caused any problem at all, even from a distance—I’ll be back, and next time, I’ll bring the constable with me.” He’d kept his voice low throughout. He paused, then demanded, “Is that clear?”

The boys swallowed, bobbed their heads, and chorused, “Yes, sir. Quite clear.”

It seemed neither boy had realized who, exactly, had bailed them up. Kit wasn’t about to enlighten them. He released his hold on the collar of the youth he’d held, and Smiggs did the same with his brother.

“I suggest you get inside,” Kit murmured, and both boys fled down the runnel.

Kit met Smiggs’s gaze and tipped his head toward the street. He followed Smiggs out of the confined space, and they started walking toward the river.