GypsyDukeEpub (27 page)

Kitty opened her eyes and took another deep breath. Her heart felt calmer already. She remembered a verse that had always held her in good stead.  Psalm 56:3- what time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.

In the Bible, King David always had someone trying to kill him, and he often cried out to God, but he trusted, too. Kitty would have to trust that God was sending help to her.

A dry cough had Kitty staring up at the shop owner, and it was obvious from the disapproving expression on his face that he didn't remember her from the other day, which was just as well. She didn't need a load of gossip spread about this misadventure.

"Well, missy. What makes you think you can make yourself at home on my floor? And dressed like that. You take your filth elsewhere."

Kitty stood, pushing away from the display to take a few steps toward the front door. A firm grip on her arm stopped her.

"Oh, no you don't. Not out my front door. This is a respectable place." He dragged Kitty along after him to the rear of the store. "You take yourself out the back so's none of my customers can see."

He let go of her arm, and Kitty thought she would fall. It was now well into the afternoon, and she hadn't had a bite to eat since the day before. With all the excitement from her escape, she hadn't noticed, but that last bit of running had nearly done her in. She felt light-headed, and her stomach was woozy.

She staggered slightly, reaching her arm out to steady herself, only to find herself in the grip of a woman. "Lord sakes, Tobias, can't you see she's near dead on her feet? You can't throw her out like that."

Dirty as Kitty was, the woman wrapped her arms around her and led her to a chair. There were bolts of brightly colored fabric and rolls of shimmering ribbon littered about the small space, but what drew Kitty's attention the most was a plate of crumpets and a pot of steaming tea at the table.

Kitty's stomach lurched, making a loud mewling sound. Her cheeks blushed as she gripped her stomach tightly. How dare her stomach betray her like that!

The woman gasped. "My dear girl, are you hungry?"

"Bertha, we can't feed every stray that shows up at the door. We'd
soon be out of business."

"Christian charity requires nothing less, and besides, we don't feed every person what comes along, just the hungry ones. Now go on back in the shop with ye. I think I heard the bell."

Kitty was afraid the man would veto his wife's suggestion, but after one thoughtful look in Kitty's direction, he stepped through the curtain that separated the store from the workroom.

"There now." The woman patted her hand before reaching for the teapot. "I expect you could use a spot of tea. I know I could. Would you care for a crumpet? Made 'em myself not a half hour ago."

She didn't wait for Kitty to answer, filling a cup and setting it and a crumpet in front of her. "There ya go, eat up."

Kitty smiled wistfully. She really wanted to say thanks before she ate, but that crumpet was doing powerful things to her stomach and she hadn't had anything to drink for such a long time. She bowed her head, uncaring of what the woman might say.

"Oh, you're right, dear. Imagine me fergettin' that." She quickly bowed her head and said a prayer.

Kitty took a sip of her tea, hot and sweet, scalding her throat a little, but it was so refreshing. She took a nibble from the crumpet, and her mouth watered. She took another bite…and another.

She was just popping the last crumb in her mouth, when she realized she hadn't stopped once for another drink of her tea or to rest her crumpet on the plate. And now there was another crumpet waiting.

Her eyes flew to the woman called Bertha, but the woman smiled at her with compassion. "Been a while since you ate, dear? Go ahead. Have another."

Warmth flooded Kitty's face, but she picked up her cup, drinking the cooling tea in one gulp before reaching for the other crumpet.

Bertha was having her own tea as well, but now that Kitty had a cup of tea and one crumpet in her, she was obviously curious. "What's your name, dear?"

Kitty placed her crumpet on the edge of the plate. "Kitty."

Bertha's eyebrows rose. "Just Kitty? I couldn't help noticin' that fine dress you have on there. My Tobias may run a dry goods store, but sometimes he can't see what's right in front of his face. And you're covered with dirt if you don't mind me sayin', though your manners are quite proper, even for a girl what hasn't eaten for awhile."

Kitty blushed anew. What could she say to that? I'm the daughter of an earl on the run from kidnappers and a gyspy? Not likely. She smiled at Bertha. "Kitty is fine."

The woman patted her hand again. "All right then, Kitty. But if you
decide you want to tell me why you had to run in the shop and hide, I might could help you." Kitty's eyes flew to Bertha's kind face. "That's right. I saw you fairly fly through that door like all the Runners in London was after you."

Kitty continued to stare, not sure what to say.

Bertha sighed. "Anyway. Enjoy your tea. And when you're done…" she let her voice trail off as she moved around the cubicle.

Kitty chewed more slowly this time. It was a lot to consider, telling someone else what had happened to her. On the one hand, Bertha could send a note to her father or Robert and John, and Kitty could be home in no time. Then again, one person from the ton could find out and she'd be ruined, along with her parents, John, and the duchess. She couldn't take that chance.

Kitty scowled. What kind of society did they live in when respectable people couldn't ask for help without receiving ridicule or even exile at the hands of the beau monde.

"Kitty? What is it, dear? That's a fierce look you've got."

Kitty cleared expression from her face and rose from the chair. "I thank you for your many kindnesses, but your husband is right. I cannot stay here." Kitty moved to the door, and with her hand on the knob, looked back. "I will repay you, when I can."

Bertha held out a hand. "Are you quite sure…"

"Yes, thank you. I will be able to go on now."

She turned the knob and stepped out once again into searing hot sun. The shop might have been overly warm, but at least it was in the shade and didn't smell.

Kitty had become intimately acquainted with the alleyways of London this day, and it was not a pleasant acquaintance. She held her hand before her face. Oh, what she wouldn't do for a bath!

A few more steps, and she would find herself back on the main thoroughfare. Was it a mistake? She didn't know, but it couldn't possibly be safe for her to be alone in the alleys. There was safety in numbers.

And with that thought came awareness. She was no longer alone in the alley. Kitty looked behind her, but the sun blocked her eyes. All she could see was the towering shape of a man.

Before she could decide what to do, Kitty looked in front of her and saw another figure advancing towards her, clearly a gypsy. Kitty screamed.

Kitty couldn't run forward, and she couldn't race to the rear. They boxed her in.

It took mere seconds for her to think this through. Not ten feet in
front of her, she saw another opening. There was a side alley between the ribbon shop and the milliner's shop next door. She bolted for it.

That's when the shouting started. The back door to the ribbon shop flew open, and Kitty heard Bertha calling her back. "Quick, Kitty. Come here."

But she didn't stop. She knew the man behind her had already passed the doorway to the ribbon shop. She couldn't get by him. She was having trouble getting past the gypsy in front of her. He figured out her plan of escape and ran to cut her off.

He was yelling as well. "Stop! Wait!"

As was the man behind her. "Kitty, wait! Darling, stop!"

Kitty froze. Darling? Was that John's voice?

She whirled around. He was closer now. The man was tall with long black hair, no vest or waistcoat. Would John be dressed like that? The hair was right.

She squinted her eyes past the glare of the sun.

It was John! His arms spread wide, and he smiled at her. "Come home, sweetheart."

Kitty flew at him. She didn't care about Bertha watching from her back door. She didn't care about the gypsy behind her, though now that she recognized John, she suspected the gypsy was probably Michel. She didn't care that Robert appeared at John's right hand, panting hard, just as she reached John.

All that mattered was the safety of those arms. God had answered her prayer, and she was surrounded by those who cared about her.

Kitty burst into tears.

She found herself instantly enveloped in a tight embrace. Oh, the strength of John's arms. She couldn't focus on anything but the safe feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around her. Nothing could separate them.

"Kitty, Kitty, I was so worried. Can you ever forgive me?"

He wanted her forgiveness? She was the one that ran off in the night, chasing an adventure.

Tears continued to stream down her already wet cheeks.

"Is she all right?" That was Robert's voice.

"She certainly runs all right." And that would be Michel.

In the face of their concern, Kitty just couldn't continue with tears. She laughed.

John reached down and lifted her face. His concerned eyes searched her face. "Kitty?"

She stopped laughing and got her breath. "I'm sorry. It's just the three of you, so concerned, speaking about me as if I cannot hear. After all I've been through…It is…just so wonderful!"

A discreet cough brought their attention back to Bertha, still standing at the back door of her establishment. "I think it would be better for the lady if you sirs would bring her inside."

John exchanged a glance with Robert. He nodded.

"An excellent idea," said John. "Pray, lead on, dear lady."

As they stepped through the door, Kitty could hear Michel's soft comment. "I'll just guard our backs." He didn't come inside.

Kitty was led once again to the small table of the workroom. Bertha made her way to the curtain, pulling it aside with one hand. "I'll be in the shop…if you need anything."

The curtain fell like an exclamation point on all that had happened that day. Kitty felt a release of all the anxiety, adrenaline, and pent-up emotions she'd experienced.

Tears flowed once again as John took the chair next to her, reaching up one hand to cup the side of her face. His other hand smoothed hair away from her brow.

"My lovely Kitty." He traced a tear as it slid down her face. "Can you forgive me? I'm so sorry you got dragged into this mess."

His voice was so caring, his touch so gentle, as if she were a piece of exquisite porcelain. She wanted to sink into those feelings not face reality. But she couldn't let John continue to think he was at fault.

"I am to blame. I had decided that if you would tell me nothing last night, then I would follow to find out who you were." Kitty couldn't bring herself to look at him. She felt so guilty.  "You did tell me, but when I saw Michel meet you at the back gate, I thought it would be exciting to follow you. To force Father to let us marry, so I could help you with your work. I'm sorry, John. I did not think, and I did not pray about such a decision first. Can you forgive me?"

John leaned closer so he could hold her against his chest again. "I still feel this is my fault. If I had been at home, taking care of our life together, you would never have felt you should seek me out in such a dangerous manner. I am entirely to blame."

Kitty giggled, her emotions still raw. To her, John sounded much like a stuffy duke, full of noble intentions. "Let us just say I will share the blame with you…for now."

John sighed. "Oh, Kitty." He reached into his pocket and pulled out Kitty's ring. "I think this belongs to you."

"You found it! I thought it had been stolen from me."

He slid it on her slender finger. "It was. I found the dilapidated house you were held in and the gentleman who took you there. He obligingly returned your ring to me."

She held up her hand, twisting it first one way, then another, to catch the light. "Thank you so much. I love it. You did not kill him, did you?"

John chuckled. That was his soft-hearted lamb. "I did not, though I cannot promise he will not hang from a noose, but that is not a topic for now."

The rear door opened, and Robert's head peeked inside. "We really should go. The carriage is waiting."

Kitty held up a hand to John. "Before we leave, is there something you can do to bless Bertha and her husband? They really had no reason to give me shelter. Look at me."

She watched as John's eyes traveled up and down her figure. He gave her a teasing leer. "My lady, you look surprisingly well."

"I thank you, fine sir, but the smell of mine own self is enough to give me pause. Thank the shopkeepers and let us be on our way."

"As my lady leads."

Kitty was bundled into Robert's waiting carriage. When she gasped in fear, John's heart couldn't help but jump.

He leaned his head through the door. "What is it?"

Kitty crouched as far from the other occupant as she could get. She pointed a shaking finger. "Him…he…he tried to take me to your uncle after promising to find Michel."