Free The Scoundrel Takes a Bride: A Regency Rogues Novel by Stefanie Sloane Page A

boy moved slowly, dragging his feet the entire width of the room to underscore
     his unwillingness.
    Singh took a length of linen from a sideboard and joined Nicholas. “Perhaps you would
     hold this up in front of young Mouse while I assist with his clothing?”
    “I don’t need no help,” Mouse grumbled, bending over to untie his boots.
    “Are we ready?” Sophia asked a moment later as she swept back into the room. She set
     a bowl full of soapy water and a pitcher for rinsing on the floor near Mouse’s feet
     then handed Singh several clean rags.
    Mouse stood up and kicked off his boots, a grim set to his lips. “S’pose so.” He peeled
     off a threadbare coat and cotton shirt, dropping both on the floor.
    “And your breeches,” Singh mentioned helpfully.
    “Those will stay right where they are, Mr. Singh. Even Miss Spoon won’t change my
     mind.” Mouse’s chin set stubbornly, a militant gleam in his eyes.
    Singh looked at Nicholas.
    Nicholas looked at Sophia.
    Sophia narrowed her eyes at the boy, her disappointmentclear. “That will do—for tonight, that is. Tomorrow you will have a proper bath, in
     a tub, without a stitch of clothing on.”
    She bent down to retrieve the pile of rags and pair of street-worn boots and carried
     them to the door, tossing them into the hall.
    “She stole my clothes!” Mouse cried out.
    “If she hadn’t, I would have,” Nicholas replied. “Now clean yourself before my arms
     grow too tired to hold this up any longer.”
    He looked meaningfully at the length of fabric that concealed the boy’s quantity of
     bare skin from Sophia.
    “You wouldn’t,” Mouse squeaked, grabbing a rag from Singh and lunging for the bowl.
    “No, he would not,” Sophia answered, glaring at Nicholas. “Still, I will turn around
     all the same.”
    The boy squeezed his eyes shut and covered his matted hair with the soaked rag. He
     rubbed vigorously, the soapy water stripping dirt away to reveal a surprisingly light
     shade of hair. Water ran down his face and over his thin chest, making slim paths
     of cleanliness through the layer of grime.
    His collarbones protruded like chicken wings beneath his pale skin, each one of his
     ribs all too visible.
    Nicholas winced at the swift sympathy that pinched his heart. He looked away and grunted
     deep in his throat. “Turn about, Mouse. Let Singh attend to your back.”
    The boy let out a suffering sigh. “If you must. But I’m ticklish, so watch yourself.”
    He turned around. Singh dunked and wrung out a clean rag. Nicholas returned his attention
     to the boy and caught sight of something on Mouse’s right shoulder. He squinted in
     order to make it out beneath the soapsuds. It looked to be a brand of sorts, in the
     shape of a chess piece.
    “Young Mouse, tell me,” Singh said, rinsing the boy’s back with clean water from the
     pitcher. “Why do you have a tattoo of a chess piece on your shoulder? Is this customary
     for young English boys?”
    Mouse threw himself forward, tripping on the edge of the wool carpet and falling face-first
     onto the bed. “That’s none of your business is what it is,” he yelled. He rose on
     all fours and scrabbled across the mattress, dropping off the opposite side and disappearing
     underneath the frame.
    Singh looked at Nicholas in disbelief. “What have I done now?”
    “I’ve no idea,” Nicholas replied, slapping his friend on the back reassuringly before
     rounding the bed to reach for the frightened boy. “Mouse, come out from under there
     and tell us what is wrong.”
    The boy began to sob, the rough, scratchy sounds loud in the quiet room.
    “Then I will have to fetch you,” Nicholas announced, a growing concern making him
     impatient. He crouched down and reached for Mouse.
    The boy jerked back and Nicholas’s fingertips only grazed bare skin. He swore under
     his breath and stood just as Mouse rolled out from under the far side of the bed and
     ran for the door.
    Singh lunged