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âWhere were you if you were the son?â The questioner sounded sceptical.
That didnât surprise James. He sometimes had trouble believing his story himself. âMy father abandoned me, he and Miss Deakin, whom he married though my mother is still alive. It was something to do with money; they couldnât have an heir in the way. So they farmed me out with a relative, who was no relative. And they gave out that I was dead.â
âWhy didnât they just kill you, wouldnât that have been simpler?â It was the sceptical cooper again.
âI donât know,â James said. âMaybe itâs not so easy to kill a son. I donât think he was all bad.â
âBad enough, from what I heard,â said another of the coopers.
âIf itâs hard to kill a son, Iâll warrant itâs a deal easier to kill a nephew,â said the kindly cooper. âA man who surrounds himself with the likes of that bowsy wouldnât think twice about murder.â
âHe was offering money,â the sceptical one reminded him. âMaybe we should let the family work out their own business.â
âI wouldnât blame you if you wanted to give me up,â James said. âAnd I canât offer you any money.â
âThereâll be no talk of giving anyone up, or of money either. Not while Matt Brady is in this yard.â
Jamesâ stomach unknotted slightly at the manâs words. The other coopers muttered their assent, even the sceptical one.
âYour father was a foolish and quarrelsome man,â Matt Brady said. âHe owed money all over the city, and if he hadnât got himself killed for his own pride, he might have got it some other way from someone with good reason. But your uncle is more than foolish, heâs a dark-souled thug who they say has killed for the pleasure of it. What kind of man will you be, if you ever get that far?â
âI hope an honourable one,â James said. âI mean to fight my uncle when the time is right.â
This statement was met with sniggers.
âWell, lad, youâll need to keep alive for that,â Brady said, and James remembered McAllisterâs words of only hours before. Staying alive was, he saw now, an even bigger challenge than he thought. How much did his uncle know? Had that brute really recognised him, and were they hunting for him throughout the city? He had been foolish to reveal his identity here.What good could it possibly do him? It would take very little for word to get back to his uncle â a tale in a tavern, a casual mention to a friend. He was angry at the pride that tempted him to take an unnecessary risk, and silently swore that he wouldnât be so quick to reveal himself in future, but he was glad he had chosen Matt Bradyâs yard to hide himself in. For every evil he encountered there seemed to be an answering good. If only things could continue like that, he might be safe.
Matt Brady gave him some bread and a coin, and again told him to be careful. James thanked him, took his leave, and made his way cautiously to the top of the lane until he emerged into the bright light of Fleet Street. He had completed a large circle, and was now just around the corner from the front gate of Trinity College. He hurried in the opposite direction, scanning the streets for anyone who might be observing him, whether sheriffâs men or his uncleâs thugs. He hurried until he gained Essex Street and spied Harry at his station near the Custom House. Only then did he breathe easily again.
Twelve
The Darcy Gang
‘I t could be worse,’ Harry said as they leaned against the wall of a shop in the piazzas. ‘He could have caught you.’
They chewed their bread silently.
‘You’ll have to lie low for a while,’ he continued thoughtfully.
‘What else have I been doing?’ James said as he stared at the pavement. ‘I’ve been lying low ever since I