But this was a step in the right direction.
“On one condition.” He folded his arms across his chest, and she could almost believe he was only pretending to glare down at her.
Nonetheless, she tempered her excitement. “And that is?”
“You are never to come here without protection again.”
“But I—”
“And your driver does not count.”
Surely, he couldn’t be serious.
“I’m serious.” Drat!
He was not mock glaring at her now. This was all out, straightforward glowering.
“I’ll have the term added to the contract.”
Lydia signed. “That won’t be necessary.” It was a little thing, really. And once construction was underway, the building would be buzzing with activity—around the clock, if she had any say. “I won’t come here alone.”
She met his gaze in an attempt to convey her sincerity, and his softened.
For a moment, she could almost believe they’d gone back in time. But then—
“Oh!” She ducked and shouted out when a bird swooped down at her from the rafters. It didn’t really come close, but…
Jeremy was looking grim again.
“I’ve seen enough. Once I’ve studied the plans, I’ll do a thorough walkthrough with the project foreman.” He grasped her elbow, steering her toward the door.
“We have preliminary plans drawn up. I’m afraid I didn’t think to bring them.”
“You can send them to my offices by messenger.”
“You have offices?” Lydia glanced over at him.
“Did you think I spent all my time pursuing leisure?”
He pushed the door open, and they stepped outside again. Without fail, the scent of the docks energized her. “You are dabbling in commerce?” It made sense, really. Although quiet and watchful, he’d always kept himself busy.
He was a good deal like Blackheart in that way. Only without the bossiness of her brother.
“I’m purchasing a shipping company—Ludwig Bros.” Rather than showing any sort of excitement, his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened.
“And this is why Lord Baxter insisted you help me? You need to convince some of his wealthy friends to invest?”
He turned her in the direction where her driver ought to be waiting. “Perhaps.”
Lydia walked silently. She’d heard of Ludwig Shipping before. She’d overheard Lucas and Blackheart discussing it. A shiver ran through her, and Jeremy pulled her closer.
He could act the uncaring rogue all he liked, but when push came to shove, he would always be a gentleman.
The street came into view, and she frowned. “Coachman John said he’d wait right here.”
Jeremy pursed his lips and then gave her an admonishing look.
“I’ve no doubt he’ll return shortly,” she added.
If either of them had been paying attention to their surroundings, Lydia might have been able to defend herself against the small boy who appeared from nowhere and slammed into her legs.
Jeremy prevented her from losing her balance, but she dropped her reticule.
“Pardon me,” she began. The poor child was collecting her belongings for her, but when she reached out for them, he spun around, and from what she could tell, had all intentions of dashing off with it.
And he would have succeeded if Jeremy wasn’t so agile.
The boy was skin and bones, his trousers too small, his shirt filthy, and his jacket at least three sizes too large.
Her grim-looking companion dangled the poor thing by his collar.
“Going somewhere?” He lowered the child so his feet touched the pavement again but didn’t loosen his hold. “I believe you have something that belongs to this lady.”
The boy squirmed. He couldn’t be much older than five or six and looked as though he hadn’t eaten a full meal in weeks. He had full lips and a face that resembled those in paintings. But his eyes… they were a violet color, almost too large for his face, set wide and fringed with thick, dark lashes.
Rather than childlike innocence, however, suspicion and contempt lurked in them.
“Le’ me go, Mister! Your ‘urtin’ me!” He twisted his little mouth, and a deep scowl etched on his forehead, barely visible behind shaggy black strands of hair.
Lydia couldn’t help but notice that his fingernails were overly long and terribly dirty.
“You’ll do well to hand over the lady’s purse, first.”
The child’s struggling stopped, and he frowned. “’Ere ya go.” He held out her reticule, and Lydia cautiously took it from him.
“And your other hand.” Jeremy jerked the boy, who whipped his face around to stare up at him in surprise.
“I don’t ‘ave nuthin’ else—”
Jeremy jerked him again, and the boy turned back, opening his other hand to reveal the small coin purse that had been in her reticule.
Lydia took it but then promptly loosened the strings and opened it. “A reward for finding this for me.” She placed a coin into the boy’s hand.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Lydia!” Jeremy dropped his head back, rolling his eyes. “A reward?”
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” She ignored him in favor of the boy.
Those violet eyes narrowed. “Wot do ya need wif me name?”
“My name is Lydia. I’m purchasing the Tuesday Warehouse to open an orphanage. I simply wanted to know to whom I might extend a personal invitation.”
“I don’ loike orphanages.”
“But there will be plenty of food for children like you, and toys, and a warm bed. I just thought I’d let you know. There will be dozens of builders fixing it up over the next several weeks. And when it’s finished, you are welcome to come take a look. Even before it’s finished, if you like. Just ask for me.”
“Liddy?”
She laughed. It was close enough. “And your name is…?”
“Me name is Ollie.”
“An apology for Lady Lydia, Ollie,” Jeremy said.
Lydia could see that Jeremy’s hold was beginning to loosen. A gust of very cold wind chose that moment to rush down the street, and even as she longed for the comfort of a warm fire and a hot cup of tea, her heart ached knowing that this child wouldn’t have either.
“I apologize, M’ Lydy.” Ollie shivered, and Lydia glanced at Jeremy with a wince.
A carriage pulled up beside them, but it wasn’t one of her brother’s. “Hold this.” Jeremy slid Ollie’s collar into her hand. “Don’t let him get away.” Lydia obeyed even though she did not really believe that the child would run from her.
Jeremy shot a warning glance in Ollie’s direction before greeting the driver.
His driver.
Opening the door, he reached inside and went rummaging through the box beneath the bench seat. While trying to see what Jeremy was up to, Lydia clung to Ollie, not because she wanted to imprison him so much as she wasn’t willing to watch him disappear into the cold to god only knew where.
When Jeremy emerged, he was holding a bundle of…
Clothing.
“Here, why don’t you try this one?”
Lydia loosened her hold as Jeremy assisted the child out of the oversized flimsy jacket he’d been wearing and into a properly sized woolen one. He then promptly wrapped a scarf around Ollie’s little neck.