The first thing Anne noticed as Reggie drew up was the absence of children in the yards to either side. At this time of day, the yards should be overflowing with children, laughing and playing.
Now they lay deserted.
Inside was equally strange; a sense of suppressed panic reigned. Various women whose job it was to oversee the children hurried back and forth, footsteps echoing down the corridors. There was no sign of their charges.
Anne went straight to the office and found Mrs. Keggs, pale and gaunt, collapsed in a chair.
“Such a terrible thing, miss! That poor wee mite—whisked away he was by some gentleman! Some evil cur.”
Anne dropped her bonnet on her desk. “Indeed—now it’
s up to us to get him back.” Pulling up another chair, she sat and took the older woman’s hands in hers. At the edge of her vision, she could see Reggie blocking the doorway; the intensity of his gaze, fixed on her, kept her panic at bay. “Now tell us exactly what happened.”
Mrs. Keggs gathered herself. “We only knew he was gone when we sat them down for lunch— he’d been playing with the others in the yards. According to what Robbie Jenkins and Petey Smythe told us, he must have been taken about an hour or so before that, as soon as they’d been let out after their morning lesson. Seems a black carriage was drawn up a little way along the street. When the boys raced down to the fence to climb it—you know how they do—the carriage rolled closer.”
She drew in a breath. “According to Robbie and Petey, the carriage door opened, and a gentleman called Benjy by name—called him Benjamin. Beckoned him to come closer. Benjy went. He climbed over and down to the pavement, but he hung back at first. He and the gentleman in the carriage talked—Petey thought the man said something about Benjy’s mother. Then the man beckoned again, and Benjy went and climbed in. The door shut, and the carriage rolled off.” She sniffed. “Robbie and Petey thought Benjy went off for a lark so they weren’t going to tell tales. We had to drag that much out of them, but they’re worried, now, so I daresay it’s the truth.”
“What did the gentleman look like?” Reggie asked.
Mrs. Keggs seemed to notice him for the first time. She shook her head. “The boys didn’t see him, only his hand—gloved—beckoning. They were too far back and the shadows of the carriage hid him.”
“Did they notice anything about the carriage?”
“Just that it was black.”
Anne exchanged a look with Reggie. A black carriage in London was one straw in a haystack. Trying to exude a confidence she didn’t feel, she stood. “For now, don’t worry—it’s possible the gentleman I spoke to recently might know something of this. I intend to find out. But for now, we need to get the rest of the children back into their normal routine. I don’t think it’s likely any of them are at risk. It was Benjy the man wanted.”
Mrs. Keggs looked at her, following her argument, then her expression cleared. “Aye—you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it like that.” She heaved herself up. “I’ll get everything here back on track, but you’ll let us know…?”
“Of course.” Anne whisked up her bonnet and started for the door. “The instant I find him, I’ll send word.”
Reggie followed her onto the street. She reached his curricle, then stopped and whirled to face him. “I’m sorry—I just assumed. I can take a hackney, of course.”
“Don’t be silly. Get in.”
He handed her up, then followed and took the reins. Without asking where she wanted to go, he set the horses trotting. “You can’t seriously believe Elderby stole Benjy away.”
She pressed her lips together, then replied, her gaze on the street ahead, “If not Elderby, then Lord Thomas. I didn’t tell anyone else, and I seriously doubt they’ve made the information public.”
“True, but—”
“Benjy wasn’t a threat to anyone else.”
After a moment, Reggie said, “We don’t know that he was a threat to Elderby or Thomas either.”
She drew a breath, held it, then inclined her head. “Yet surely it’s too much of a coincidence that after being at the House for a year, some gentleman turns up to find Benjy just days after I told the Caverlocks of his existence.”
Reggie heard the fear and self-blame in her voice. He glanced sharply at her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He could see only her profile; its bleakness didn’t change. “We’ll find him, I promise.”
She did look at him then, met his gaze, saw the concern in his eyes. The line of her lips eased; she laid her hand on his arm and squeezed gently.
Then she faced forward.
He drove on.
Thomas’s house in Duke Street was closest; Anne insisted they stop there first. Reggie drew up before the house and turned to her. An urchin materialized, offering to hold his horses; by the time he’d negotiated and handed over the reins, Anne, in a fever of impatience, had jumped down and started up the steps.
With a muttered curse, he leapt down and strode after her. He caught up with her—caught her arm—just as she was reaching for the knocker.