Chapter Thirteen #5
Griffin stared at Nat. Throwing a few coins to the urchins every morning, sending Wick on an errand, exchanging words with Beetle as he handed over his boots, none of that prepared him for dealing with this child, or this child’s fears.
“It was the wind,” he said. “Or a tree branch. Many things can cause noises such as you heard. It was not your mother.”
Rather than mollifying the boy, Griffin saw Nat’s large, dark eyes well with tears. Before he could speak and make right whatever he’d made wrong, he felt Olivia trod hard upon his toes. Relief far surpassed the pain.
“Of course you will not go with her,” Olivia said.
She gently removed the mangled muffin from between Nat’s hands and used her serviette to briskly dust off his palms. “Lord Breckenridge will not allow it. It is his wish that you will remain here, and no one, not even your mother, can gainsay him. He will also not allow her to disturb your sleep, so you can be certain that when you hear a noise at your window, it is naught but one of nature’s moody tricks. ”
Nat regarded her uncertainly.
“Look to his lordship, Nat, and see for yourself that what I’m telling you is true.”
Nat’s attention swung to Griffin. “Is it so, sir?”
The cast of Griffin’s features was solemn. “It is.” Griffin expected his word to be the end of it, but he watched Nat’s eyes dart to Olivia again, this time settling on her hands, both of which were resting lightly on the tabletop. “You are perhaps looking to see if she has a fork in my side?”
Nat offered a guilty, watery smile.
Under the table, Olivia carefully removed her foot from Griffin’s instep.
Griffin simply nodded to each of them in turn, affecting lordly condescension to indicate his satisfaction with the morning’s work. He was pleasantly surprised when Olivia’s hands and feet remained where they were, although he suspected her show of restraint was for Nathaniel.
The child’s presence at their table was not without its benefits.
“There are no tree branches close enough to scratch at his window,” Olivia said when she and Griffin were alone. “And no wind at all to speak of last night.”
“I know. The same occurred to me.” He closed the book of accounts, pushed it to one side, and leaned back in his chair.
“Perhaps Truss and Wick can engage the boy…Nat, that is…in some activity so that I can have a look without alerting him. He will have no confidence at all in me if he thinks I am looking for evidence that it was his mother.”
“I think we mistook the matter there. He is not grieving her absence as much as he is fearing her return.”
Griffin pushed his fingers through his hair.
“God’s truth, but she was ever a piece of work.
It is little wonder he was so attentive to her.
How frightened she made him of her passing.
” Shaking his head, he blew out a large, noisy breath.
“It does not bear thinking the kind of things she must have told him about me.”
“Nat will come to his own opinion. He is as bright as a new penny and will only require time to put order to what he’s been told and what he sees for himself.”
“Time with me, you mean.”
“You would not begrudge him that, would you?”
“Begrudge him? No. But that does not mean that I know what to do with him. You tried to caution me when I began to offer him an opportunity to earn a few coppers.”
“And it was well done of you to ignore me. You did right by Nat, giving him a purpose and such dignity as a child can manage. You have a deft touch.”
Griffin was not as certain. “Do you think he’s my son?”
“I don’t know. But I think it is the wrong question.”
“Oh? What is the right one?”
“Do you want him to be?”
Frowning, Griffin rubbed the underside of his chin. “Bloody hell, Olivia, but you force me to look at a thing sideways.”
She came around the desk, bent, and kissed his furrowed brow. “It is not a punishment,” she said, chuckling. She tugged on his wrist. “Come, I want to see for myself what might have been at Nat’s window. Set Truss and Wick on him so we may have done with it.”
Nat obediently trotted after Wick when the older boy came for him and announced Truss had work for them below stairs. As soon as they disappeared from the hallway, Griffin and Olivia went to Nat’s room.
Griffin pushed open the window. Foster was already in the yard, making a survey of the ground. He looked up when he heard Griffin call to him.
“Footprints all around, m’lord. Can’t say whose they might be or when they were made. There are an uncommon number of them at the corner. That doesn’t seem right. Can’t think what anyone’s doing there.”
Griffin eased himself out of the window and dropped a few feet to the porch roof. Olivia immediately thrust her head out the opening. He gave her a cautionary glance.
“I am not coming out,” she told him with some asperity. “I am here to make certain you do not break your neck.”
He did not inquire how she meant to do that.
He stepped carefully on the steep incline of the porch roof, looking for evidence that someone else had recently done the same.
He found it at the edge, two small dents where the gutter had been pushed in.
Leaning over as far as he dared, he caught Foster’s attention.
“Look for a place where he might have set a ladder.” He pointed to the approximate location on the ground. “There and there.”
“Right you are. Just so. Two gouges, an inch or so deep.” He bent, examined them more closely. “Made recently. No rainwater collecting in them.”
“Where is our ladder, Foster?” The footman was already on his way to the outbuilding where such things were stored.
Griffin straightened and climbed the slope back to the window. By the time he reached it, Foster was emerging from the building.
“Looks to have been our ladder that was used,” the footman announced.
Not surprised, Griffin merely nodded. He waved Foster back inside and turned to examine the window. Olivia pointed out the scrapings she had already seen.
“Someone was trying to get in,” she said.
“Mmm. I thought we might put it down to a bluey-hunter, but that does not seem to be the case.”
“Bluey-hunter?”
“A thief who steals lead from the tops of houses. It is common enough around here.” Griffin checked the sturdiness of the window frame. It would hold, though nothing would stop a glass cutter. “I think we would do well to suspect it is the work of the gentleman villain.”
Olivia helped him back inside, closed the window, and set the latch. “We will have to move Nat to another room.”
“Of course. I will depend upon you to arrive at a suitable explanation.”
Nodding absently, Olivia asked, “If it is the gentleman, do you suppose he came for Nat?”
Griffin cupped the side of Olivia’s face. “You know that is unlikely, and while I appreciate your desire to protect him, I think we must apply ourselves to protecting you.”