Page 16 of Indecently Daring

“Well, you’ve had quite an exciting day so far.”

Harry snorted. “A bit more excitement than I ever want again, I assure you, but are they both well? Jeb and Miss Cadogan?”

“Perfectly fine,” Mrs Stanhope said soothingly, settling down to pour the tea as the maids filed out again. “Both of them are tucked up in bed with a hot bowl of soup, which is where you ought to be, I might add. Do at least eat something, please.”

Harry helped himself to sandwiches. He’d never been able to stand being fussed over; the idea of being tucked up in bed and waited on when he was perfectly well made him restless and irritable. “You are very kind, Mrs Stanhope, but there is no need. A hot cup of tea and a slice of that delicious looking cake and I shall be right as ninepence.”

“Oh, surely we can do better than tea,” her husband said with a frown. “I’ve a very fine cognac. Just the thing to warm the cockles of your heart.”

“No.” Henry shook his head. “No, thank you,” he amended, realising that had sounded rather sharp and ungrateful. He took a large bite of his sandwich, chewing determinedly.

Stanhope looked surprised by his refusal, but shrugged. “Very well. Tea it is, then.”

Relieved, Harry accepted a cup, then finished three sandwiches, three biscuits, and two slices of cake without the slightest twinge of remorse. He had surely earned them today.

He looked up at a knock on the door, and the butler appeared.

“I beg your pardon, Reverend Martin, but Master Jeb is anxious to see you.”

“Is he all right? Is he sick?” he demanded, surging to his feet.

The butler’s eyes widened. “No, indeed! Oh, no. In fine form, I should say. A fine little lad he is, and already a favourite of our housekeeper. No, it is only the boy wishes to speak with you.”

Harry let out a breath of relief. “I’ll go up at once. If you would excuse me,” he added to Mr and Mrs Stanhope as he hurried from the room.

He found Jeb sitting up in an enormous bed, surrounded by lace-edged pillows and covered in so many quilts and blankets he looked a bit like a disembodied head.

“Well, you’ve fallen on your feet, lad,” Harry said, striving to sound amused and to fight back the urge to hug the boy until his ribs cracked.

Honestly, he was getting sentimental in his old age. He knew he ought not to have a favourite among the boys, either, but Jeb was a cheeky little tyke and reminded Harry very much of himself at the same age.

Jeb returned a sheepish smile. “I never saw such a big bed in all me life,” he confided, sounding rather awestruck. “Is the lady all right? She’s not… not sick or—”

“I’m told she’s perfectly fine,” Harry said, perching on the edge of the mattress.

“You ain’t seen her?” Jeb asked anxiously.

Harry shook his head. “I haven’t seen her,” he corrected with a smile. “That would not be appropriate, seeing as she is tucked up in a warm bed like you are, but Mr and Mrs Stanhope assure me she’s fine, so there’s no need to fret.”

“She saved my life,” Jeb said, his lip trembling a little. “I was ever so… ever so… fri… frightened.”

The boy gave a hiccoughing sob and threw himself at Harry.

“Ah, there, there, Jeb. You’re a brave lad. A lucky escape you had, right enough, but I think the big fellow has plans for you yet.”

“The big f-fellow?” Jeb asked, sniffing and wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Harry handed him his own handkerchief. “God,” he explained gravely.

“You reckon he didn’t drownded me for a reason?” Jeb’s eyes had grown very wide.

Harry smiled, pushing the boy’s thick hair back from his forehead. “I think you’ve a good deal of living to do, Jeb. The world has a great deal to show you yet, and there are many adventures to have. So be a good lad and get some rest now, and don’t worry anymore. You’re safe, and everything is fine.”

“I… I don’t suppose me ma…?”

Harry felt his heart ache at the hopeful look in the boy’s eyes. It was only Jeb and his ma, who earned her living sporadically, sometimes as a barmaid, before she disappeared to who knew where when the whim took her. No one seemed to know who Jeb’s father had been, but Jeb had certainly never laid eyes on him. Sadly for the boy, his ma was unreliable and had a tendency to disappear for weeks, or even months, if a fellow offered to keep her. Poor Jeb had been running wild and causing mischief wherever he could until Harry had taken him in hand and into his school.

“I don’t expect she’s heard yet,” Harry said, praying that were true, though the woman didn’t seem to have much resembling a maternal instinct. He’d tried to speak to her, to offer her help where he could, in finding her regular work, and in gently showing her how much Jeb needed her in his life. But she thought Harry an interfering busybody who wanted to stop her from having any fun in life. As her life had little resembling fun in it outside of drinking and a series of widely and publicly criticised love affairs with unsuitable men, Harry could see how she’d think it.