Fenwickâs.
âYou know perfectly well what heâs done,â Mr. Radford said. âHeâs left school.â
The girl shrugged. âWho wouldnât?â
âYou donât.â
âWell, no one tole meâÂâ She stopped abruptly, and looked hostile. âHere now, I know your tricks, Raven, like everybody does,â she said loudly. âDonât be thinkinâ Iâll squeak on Toby or nobody else. I donât nose on my friends.â Then more softly but with the same truculence she muttered, âNot and ask for a slicing, would I? And you tell Bridget she can thank herself for it.â She flounced away.
Mr. Radford shook his head. âCome along then, Mrs. Faxon. I knew we wasted our time with this lot. They stick together. This is what they call honor among thieves, in case you were wondering.â
R adford had to give her credit. Lady Clara passed through the first trial without being sick or even showing signs of swooning.
But then, she was Longmoreâs sister, for all she looked so little like him.
They went on to the boysâ classroom, where anarchy seemed to prevail, although the teachers bravely did their business and a few brave boys worked at learning.
There he picked the likeliest lad in the bunch and took him aside in the same way theyâd drawn Jane away from the others. Not outside the room, though. That would be the perfect way to learn absolutely nothing.
The boy Jos displayed even more hostility than Jane had treated them to, and in the same vein.
Having left the boysâ area with the same kinds of dismissive comments heâd used in the girlsâ schoolroom, Radford led Clara and her maid outside. He said nothing. They said nothingâÂshocked speechless, no doubtâÂbut hurried along with him to the hackney stand in Hatton Garden, where they climbed into an ancient coach.
âThatâs all?â Lady Clara said once the vehicle was moving. âHow many more ragged schools must we visit before we learn anything?â
âWere you not paying attention?â he said. âThey told us everything.â
âThey all seemed to know you,â she said. âThose girls . . . Jane . . .â She trailed off and looked out of the window, though heâd defy her to see anything through the scratched, dirt-Âencrusted glass.
âThey know I donât need every syllable spelled out for me,â he said.
âSpeaking of syllables, I could barely understand Jane,â she said. âThe boyâÂJo, was it?âÂmight as well have been speaking Mesopotamian.â
âNor why your ladyship ought to understand, I canât guess,â Davis said. âAnd to think I should see my lady in a place alongside the likes of those creatures, and that insolent girlâs rags touching your skirts.â She glared at Radford.
He shrugged. âYou can burn miladyâs attire later. In the dead of night, if you like.â
âAnd how should we do that without attracting attention, sir ?â the maid said, making the sir sound like you fiend from hell . âDo you suppose I spend any time in the kitchen, that they wouldnât wonder at it? Do you imagine a dress burned in my ladyâs bedroom fireplace wouldnât set the whole house talking, and her ladyshipâs mother hear of it?â
âSend the dress to me, or leave it for me somewhere,â he said in a bored voice. âIâll burn it.â
âNever mind the dress,â Lady Clara said. âWhat did you learn?â
âThat Jane referred to a party who liked cutting Âpeople.â
The maid looked at her mistress. âWhy will you not let me kill him?â she said. âThis is a horrid man. Your ladyship has got mixed up with some horrid men, ever sinceâÂâ
âDo be still, Davis,â Lady Clara said. âIâll thank you for not airing my dirty
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia