Cat Among the Pigeons (Cat Royal Adventures #2)

‘All I want to do is rub some ointment on his bruises.’ She took another look at my shocked face. ‘But I don’t want to make him suffer any more today, so you do it for me, Hengrave.’ She put a jar in his hand. ‘I’ll leave you in peace so that his delicate sensibilities are not offended by the presence of a female.’ She tutted and left the room.

Silence fell. I could hear the bustle of the school beyond the peaceful sanatorium. Boys were calling to each other as they went to the first lesson. Charlie held the jar gingerly as if it might explode at any moment. Our situation suddenly struck me as being so absurd it was funny. Mrs Clough thought I had an aversion to females! I began to giggle hysterically but stopped as my ribs ached.

‘Who was it, Cat?’ Charlie asked. His voice was taut with suppressed anger.

‘Richmond and his planter friends from Ottley’s. Teaching me a lesson about abolition.’ I winced. ‘Are you going to pass me that ointment then?’ He handed it to me wordlessly. ‘Turn your back, please.’ I took a scoop from the jar and began to rub my battered body. They had certainly been thorough. I couldn’t reach my shoulder blades which had taken the brunt of the attack. ‘Er, Charlie, would you mind helping your little brother rub this on his back?’

He blushed as red as I did. ‘Of course. I’ll keep my eyes closed.’ He swiftly applied the wolfsbane. Neither of us spoke, but finally Charlie burst out, ‘I’m going to beat Richmond into a pulp when I see him.’

‘What good will that do?’ I asked, feeling tired of this whole charade. More than anything I wanted to be back among my own people – back at Drury Lane.

‘Well, it’ll make me feel a lot better for a start.’

Mrs Clough bustled back in. ‘Now get yourself into that bed, Hengrave. I want to keep you here until I’m happy you’ll not black out again.’

‘Cat . . . my brother was kicked unconscious?’ asked Charlie, his knuckles white as he gripped the jar.

‘Yes, dear, but he’ll be all right now with me to look after him. Run along to lessons. You can come back later to check on him.’ She handed me a nightshirt and left the room.

‘Right, that’s it. This is war,’ Charlie declared in a hiss as he stood with his back to me, his shoulders quivering with rage. ‘Those slavers won’t know what’s hit them.’

‘Charlie, don’t. They’re not worth it,’ I whispered hoarsely.

‘But you are,’ he said, leaving the room abruptly.


I put the nightshirt over my breeches and got into bed. The wolfsbane did indeed have a soothing effect on my bruises and I fell asleep, dreaming the morning away. I only woke up when someone touched my arm gently. Fearing it was Mrs Clough coming to apply the ointment again, I sat up quickly, gathering the sheets around me.

‘Don’t worry, Cat, it’s only me,’ said Frank, not quite meeting my eyes. He looked tired. ‘And I’ve brought you a visitor.’

I turned to find the Duchess of Avon sitting at my bedside.

‘Oh no.’ I collapsed back on the pillow. So it had all come out then.

The duchess leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Don’t be alarmed, Master Tom Cat, I’ve heard all about it from Frank and Lizzie. I assure you that I have no interest in interfering with your decision to – how shall we put it? – play a breeches role for a few weeks. I merely came to bring back Frank and leave the items you requested – and perhaps catch sight of you in your new guise. But when we arrived, we learned you had ended up here, so I changed my role as messenger into that of sick bed visitor. I hope that is not unwelcome?’

I shook my head and flinched with the pain. Frank, failing to disguise his outrage at finding me like this, took to striding up and down the room.

‘Is there any news?’ I asked.

‘Of your little African friend? No, I’m sorry to say,’ said the duchess softly.

‘Nothing?’ I turned to Frank.

‘We’ve looked everywhere in Covent Garden,’ said Frank. ‘He’s not there. Syd’s spoken to the boys from Billingsgate and they’re searching the port. So far, no news. All we know is that Pedro stayed at home all day and the only visitors to the house were a blind piano tuner and his assistant at four in the afternoon. Pedro met them and showed them into the music room. According to the maid, these two showed themselves out later when they’d finished. We’re trying to find them because it sounds as if they were the last people to see Pedro. Joe ‘The Card’ thinks he knows where the blind man lives. Somewhere near Seven Dials, he says, so we have to tread carefully.’

Seven Dials – that was in an area known as the Rookeries, Billy Shepherd’s patch, the haunt of thieves, beggars and vagrants. I was sceptical that even Joe would find the blind man if he thought it in his interests to vanish for a while. Then something Richmond had said before the kicking came back to me. ‘One of the boys that attacked me seemed to know a lot about Pedro. He said that Pedro’s old master was planning to get him home and make an example of him as a warning to other runaways.’

Frank stopped pacing. ‘He said that, did he? How would he know?’

‘He talked about it as if it were an open secret among the slavers. They all seem to be aware of what’s planned, even if they don’t know the details.’

The duchess stroked my arm. ‘It’s very possible. The planters have joined forces to oppose Mr Wilberforce.’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if they were all in on it,’ Frank said, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. ‘Pedro’s become something of a test case for both sides.’

The duchess sighed heavily. ‘If the slavers can get him out of England, the laws of slavery apply once more. He’s no longer a servant but a slave again, God help him.’ She leant forward and smoothed my hair off my brow. ‘What are we going to do with you? Shall I see if I can get you transferred to our house so we can look after you? It would certainly save you a lot of trouble here.’

It was a very attractive offer – with only one drawback.

‘Have the runners stopped looking for me?’

‘I don’t know, sweetheart. They’ve talked to the servants a couple of times, according to Joseph.’