Jimmy lay upon the soft, clean bed he’d been assigned and contentedly patted his rounded stomach. Aunt Cleora’s cook was wonderful, and her employer had hardly needed to press Jimmy to eat and eat; his only regret was that he’d had to stop. He looked about the room, it was small, but neat and in the main part of the house, with a small fireplace and patterns pressed into the cream-coloured plaster of the walls.
He’d expected to be relegated to the servants’ quarters but it apparently hadn’t even crossed Cleora’s mind.
‘It’s a little one,’ she’d said when she’d brought him up to show it to him. ‘But boys don’t mind such things, do they?’ And she’d stood smiling at him, just a touch of anxiety in her kind brown eyes as though wondering what she’d do if he didn’t like his accommodations.
‘It’s just fine!’ he’d assured her.
And still thought so. This was, without doubt, the softest berth he’d ever known. If he didn’t watch out, under Aunt Cleora’s influence he’d soon be looking for honest work. He grimaced; that was a thought to give one the cold grue.
Uncle Karl, Cleora’s husband, was a sea captain currently visiting Krondor. Flora’s aunt had assured them both that he would be absolutely thrilled to have them here. Jimmy was going to have to take her word for it since Cleora had no idea when he’d be back. He frowned thoughtfully; if it was longer than two weeks Jimmy was pretty sure he would have moved on by then. By then, Flora would be completely settled in.
Yardley Heywood was no longer practising law. Flora’s grandfather had fallen ill earlier in the year and was recovering slowly.
He convalesced at home, with Aunt Cleora looking in on him daily. She promised Flora she could come along in a day or two, after breaking the news to the old man the girl had returned to the family. Jimmy frowned. There was a great deal of bother with relations and keeping stories straight, he thought. Still, Flora seemed up for the job, and after only a few hours in this house it was hard to remember being on the streets of Krondor.
Still, Jimmy knew the role he played would come apart under close inspection. Flora had lived in a nice home for her first nine years, and many of her customers had been swells; she could talk like a proper girl, and Jimmy, while able to keep up appearances if he didn’t have to talk too much, had only listened to people of rank for a few weeks, while with the Prince and Princess.
No, he’d keep his mouth shut and answer as few questions as he could get away with, and suffer a warm bed and good meals while he planned out what to do next in his exile. Land’s End might not be Krondor, but it was a town of size, and there was booty to boost for a lad with nimble fingers.
Then his smile returned and he folded his arms beneath his head. This would be a fine place from which to work: no one would suspect sweet Aunt Cleora of harbouring a thief and there was no Night-or Daymaster to govern his movements. Poor old Land’s End wasn’t going to know what had hit it. He chuckled evilly.
‘What are you laughing about?’ Flora asked.
Jimmy nearly levitated off the mattress. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?’ he demanded.
She frowned at him and came in, shutting the door behind her. ‘Keep your voice down,’ she whispered. ‘I’m not supposed to be in here.’
‘Did your aunt say that?’ he asked, surprised. From the way Cleora had been behaving Jimmy had expected her to give Flora the key to the front door at any moment.
Flora gave him an exasperated look. ‘No, of course not. She would expect me to know how a young lady should act.’
Jimmy raised his eyebrows as her face fell. Flora sat on the bed and slumped dejectedly. ‘I have to tell her the truth, Jimmy,’ she said.
He sat up and tipped his head toward her. ‘Come again?’
‘She deserves to know the truth.’ Flora looked up at him from under her lashes and gestured toward herself awkwardly. ‘About how I’ve . . . made my living.’
Jimmy swung his legs off the bed and put his hand on her shoulder, looking her earnestly in the eyes. No wonder she made such a bad thief, he thought, she’s bone-honest!
‘You can’t do that, Flora.’
‘I have to, Jimmy. She deserves the truth.’
‘You can’t be that selfish, Flora, I know you can’t.’
Flora’s mouth dropped open. ‘What?’
‘Think how hurt she’d be,’ Jimmy pointed out. ‘You’ve told her your father died when you were just a little girl. You saw her face. Then when you told her that you’d been living with an elderly lady as her companion she looked so relieved! If you tell her the truth she’ll suffer agonies of guilt. You know she will! How could you put her through that?’
Flora still looked shocked, her mouth opened and closed but nothing came out and her eyes filled with tears.
‘B-but how can I keep lying to her? She’s so nice, Jimmy, I really like her. I don’t want to build our lives on a lie.’