Free Wild Boy and the Black Terror by Rob Lloyd Jones

she said. “In fact, I think I saw him steal a—”
    “Enough, Clarissa. You both need to learn restraint.”
    Clarissa tensed. She didn’t take well to being scolded, even by Marcus. She sank deeper beneath the coat, hiding the flush she could feel spreading across her cheeks. “You ain’t my father,” she muttered.
    The carriage jolted again, and a strand of hair slipped over Marcus’s golden eye. He brushed it back with a gloved finger. “You should not dwell on what happened with your father or your mother.”
    “You don’t know nothing.”
    Clarissa felt bad for snapping. The fact was, Marcus knew everything about her past. That was his business. But just knowing about things was different from living through them. He hadn’t been there when her father ran off with one of the freak show performers, and he hadn’t watched it drive her mother crazy, turning her into “Mad Mary Everett”, that bitter witch. He wasn’t chased by her hunting dogs. He had no idea how that felt.
    Clarissa curled up even smaller on the seat. She couldn’t remember the mother she once loved. All she could picture were those raging eyes. She could still hear that hate-filled cry when her mother discovered her helping Wild Boy escape. “
Get them. Get both of them.”
    “That woman’s dead to me,” she said.
    Eager to change the subject, she threw back the coat and grinned at Marcus. “You and Wild Boy are much more fun anyhow, even though Wild Boy’s a thickhead.”
    Marcus opened his mouth to disapprove, but she cut him off. “He ain’t as clever as you think, you know. I mean, he is, but he ain’t. He’s no cleverer than I’m good at circus skills, is he?”
    She prodded her guardian’s knee, seeking a response. The smallest of smiles cracked Marcus’s stony face, but it was enough.
    “You are equally talented,” he conceded. “That is why you
both
must learn to master your emotions. Your past is your past. That is where it should remain. If not, it will control you.”
    Was it that easy for Marcus? Clarissa wondered. What did she really know about her guardian’s past? Even Wild Boy hadn’t been able to detect much. Eventually they’d given up trying to find out. They were both just happy he was on their side.
    “I cannot protect you for ever,” Marcus said.
    “Stop saying that,” Clarissa replied. “Course you can. Anyhow, once we crack this case for the Queen, you won’t need to. She’ll probably make us lords.”
    “That is utter nonsense. But you are correct in thinking that solving this case would prove your value to the Gentlemen. That is why we are visiting Lady Bentick this evening.”
    Clarissa sat up. “Eh? I thought this was some fancy dinner to teach me about society.”
    The carriage slowed. With the end of his cane, Marcus parted the curtain to look outside. “Clarissa, I have no desire to teach you about society. Certainly a few manners would do you no harm, but on the whole, society is a dreary place for which you are far too interesting.”
    “You mean we’re on the case right now?”
    “We are following a lead.”
    “Wild Boy didn’t say nothing about no lead.”
    “It is not something of which he is aware. I wish it to remain that way until I have more information. There is a possible…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “A possible connection between the Queen’s story and Lady Bentick. It is a delicate matter that requires careful handling. I arranged this dinner to make enquiries. Wild Boy would have insisted on coming, and we both know that he could not.”
    “He’d probably have jumped onto the back of this carriage if he knew.”
    “Precisely.”
    She laughed at the idea, but talking about Wild Boy was even more painful than Marcus’s probing about her past. This was the first time they’d been apart, even for a few hours. She had considered staying with him, but hadn’t wanted to let Marcus down. And, well, it felt nice to wear a posh dress, even