The Deeds of the Disturber - Elizabeth Peters [59]
‘It appears, my dearest Emerson, that the aristocratic element has entered the case after all.’
‘Yes, curse it,’ Emerson grumbled. ‘I had believed myself safe from the journalists, at least. Do your long-suffering spouse one favour, Peabody. Do not take the young lady under your wing. I have resigned myself to danger and distraction, but I cannot endure another of your sentimental rescues of young lovers.’
‘I doubt that the eventuality will arise, Emerson,’ I replied soothingly. ‘Miss Minton doesn’t appear to have a romantic interest. Unless his lordship –’
‘Good Gad, Peabody, she struck him in the face!’
‘You lack experience in these matters, Emerson. Such demonstrations are not infrequently indicative of affection. If you recall some of our earlier –’
‘I don’t want to recall them, Peabody.’
‘Then there is young Wilson, who was with her the other evening,’ I went on. ‘You said you knew him –’
‘He will probably turn out to be the Prince of Wales,’ Emerson said gloomily. ‘I do draw the line at members of the royal family, Peabody. The aristocracy is bad enough.’
When the cab stopped before the house, Emerson helped me out and turned to pay the driver. A fine drizzle, more soot than rain, darkened the twilight; at first I took the shapeless object by the gate for a bag of trash. Then it stirred and I recognized it for one of the poor vagabonds who frequent the streets of London – their only home. Usually the constables on duty kept these unfortunates away from St James’s Square and other fashionable neighbourhoods. This one had apparently eluded the law.
As we approached the gate, the figure drew itself to its feet and held out its hand in mute appeal. I said pitifully, ‘It is only a child, Emerson. Can’t we –’
Emerson was already fumbling in his pocket. ‘We can’t take them all in, Amelia,’ he grumbled – not his usual grumble, but the softer sound that expressed pity and helpless anger. ‘Here you are, my boy’ – coins chinked heavily with the solid ring of silver – ‘buy yourself some dinner and a lodging for the night; the constable will be along shortly, so you had better move on.’
A whine of wordless gratitude was the response as the small hand closed tightly over Emerson’s bounty. Emerson cursed softly as we proceeded to the house.
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘It is a sad world, Emerson. Let us hope there is a better one somewhere for such people.’
‘Humbug,’ snarled Emerson.
‘So you say, my dear, but even you cannot be certain of that. At least one little lad will have hot food and a warm bed tonight. How late we are! Our own dear little ones will be waiting for tea; we must count our blessings and teach them to do the same.’
But only two dear little ones were waiting in the drawing room. Violet’s voluminous ruffles and huge sash made her look almost as wide as she was tall. Percy jumped to his feet when we entered the room. ‘Good evening, sir. Good evening, Aunt Amelia.’
‘Good evening, Percy,’ I replied. ‘I am sorry we are late. Mrs Watson, will you send one of the maids to call Ramses?’
The housekeeper wrung her hands. ‘Oh, madam –’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘Gone again, is he?’
‘I don’t know how he could have got out,’ the poor woman groaned. ‘I kept a close eye on him – I know the dear boy’s habits –’
‘My dear Mrs Watson, Ramses has eluded wilier keepers than you,’ I assured her. ‘Emerson, do sit down and stop tearing at your hair.’
‘I will not sit down,’ Emerson replied furiously. ‘See here, Amelia, your calm does you no credit. I know, Ramses has done this before and has never taken any harm, but there is always a first time, and this cursed city –’
‘I suppose I had better go and fetch him, then,’ I said, rising. ‘Have a cucumber sandwich, Emerson, it will cool your temper.’
But of course Emerson followed me into the hall, and so did the others. At my direction the butler opened the door; he tried to fetch me my coat, but I waved