“He told you about her?” he asked incredulously. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“At first because I hoped he was lying. But then I saw your reaction to the playbill the other day, and I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I don’t know what has gotten into James of late,” Henry said. “The man is entitled to his own opinion, but I’ll not have him going behind my back trying to hurt you and drive us apart. His behavior is inexcusable and I’m sorry you had to go through that tonight, being forced to watch Miss Rose when you thought we had been lovers.”
“It wasn’t easy,” I admitted. “Especially with all those come hither looks she kept throwing you. In truth, it was hard not to imagine your previous life together.”
Henry pulled me closer and kissed my forehead. “You suffered needlessly. Can we agree to have no more secrets between us?”
“You already know everything about me,” I laughed. “Until you arrived in Philadelphia I hadn’t misbehaved a day in my life, unless you count William Goodwin kissing my cheek behind the barn. What about you, my lord? Anything else need confessing or should I just wait to hear what James has to say next?”
Henry took a deep breath. “I will not claim to be a saint, for you already know that is far from the truth. But on my honor, there are no other Justines lurking in my past, regardless what James or anyone else may say to the contrary.”
“What about the future?” I asked, the words spilling out unbidden. “I’ve heard it’s fashionable in London for men of rank to take mistresses once they are married.”
Henry drew me closer. “You would never ask such a silly question if you truly understood what was in my heart. I belong to you, Selah, body and soul, and that will never change.”
I was about to return his sentiments when my ears pricked up and a sudden chill ran through my blood.
Henry felt me shiver and pulled me farther into his arms. “I shouldn’t have kept you outside for so long.”
I turned and stared into the trees. “Did you hear something?”
Henry listened for a moment. “Only the leaves rustling. Let’s get you inside.”
With one last glance into the trees, I took his arm and we started walking again. The graveled path led back to a cobbled road, where I saw Cate’s townhome near the end of the long row. Lamps burned at every door along the road, creating small pockets of warm light in the surrounding darkness.
A carriage rattled by, briefly impeding our progress. Once on the other side, I watched a young boy emerge from the shadows, walking towards us, his head down and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his short, brown coat. He passed back into the darkness, his little body barely discernible amongst the other shadows. We were still several doors away when he re-appeared, this time in the patch of light directly in front of Cate’s door. He paused at the steps and stared at the enormous townhome. Shuffling his feet, he placed one on the bottom step without going any farther.
“I wonder what he’s up to,” Henry said.
“He looks far too young to be out causing mischief at this hour.”
Just then a girl appeared from the shadows dressed in beggar’s rags and a faded black shawl draped over her head. She looked more specter than human, and unease crept over me as she moved with soundless steps behind the boy. His body tensed, and he swung around, tilting his head up to face her. Fear flooded his eyes. He opened his mouth to scream when she touched his cheek, and he slumped silently to the ground.
“Merciful saints!” I cried
The girl looked around, and my blood turned to ice. She barely glanced at us before disappearing into the darkness.
Henry started running, pulling me alongside him. The boy lay curled on his side, his breath coming in strangled gasps. Henry dropped on his knees beside him. “Sounds like he’s having a fit. That girl must have scared him senseless, and no wonder, a small lad like him out alone at night.” He reached out to turn the boy over. “You’ll be all right...” he started, then suddenly jerked back. “Get away, Selah, he’s covered in pox!”
Henry should have known me better. I immediately knelt down, taking the boy’s hand. It burned with fever, the skin covered front and back with angry red bumps. Glancing at his face, I saw more red bumps running from his hairline to where the skin disappeared beneath a dirty linen shirt. His chest strained and wheezed for each breath. “That’s impossible,” I said. “He was just fine a minute ago.”
Henry took off his coat and placed it over the boy. “You shouldn’t be here,” he told me. “The pox is highly contagious.”
“What about you,” I snapped.