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James would find out. And George would rather he didn’t make Rose tell it. She got confused between pretend and real sometimes, and that might make James mad.
“Her grandfather’s the Duke of Welshire. The Pershings were supposed to have children, and they couldn’t, so they lied about it to keep their property. Now they have to go visit, so Rose and me are pretending to be theirs.”
James sat up. “Well, well. A duke. And you all set to be a duke’s great-grandbabies.” He smacked his hands together. “And now me here to see to it that you’re treated right. I wager you’ve already pocketed some bits and bobs. Oh, Georgie, this is our lucky day. Finally.”
“How did you even know we were gone from St. Stephen’s?”
“I crossed paths with that pretty sister. The new one.”
“Sister Mary Christopher?”
“Yeah. That one. I asked if she could save my soul and then, me being a good brother, I inquired about you. She said you’d gone off with some rich swells, and when I asked her nice she told me who they were and where they lived.”
“You asked her nice?”
“I didn’t hurt her or nothing. Just got a little cozy with her.” He chuckled again. “You should’ve seen her shaking, like a wet dog, she was.”
George didn’t like that. Sister Mary Christopher wasn’t very nice, but that was no reason to scare her. If he said that, though, James would hit him. “The Pershings made an agreement with us,” he said instead. “And Rosie and me both signed it. We get good food, fencing lessons for Rose, and reading and writing for me, and they get to teach us good manners and dancing and such. We have to follow the agreement, or they send us back to St. Stephen’s. So you can’t just steal things here. You have to be careful.”
James cocked his head, his gaze at his brother, assessing. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you don’t want me around, Georgie. This is our chance; this is how we get enough blunt to stay together. I’m a man grown now, so we can be a family. A real family. Not one made up just to fool an old man.”
There wouldn’t be any talking James out of it, George knew. Not yet, anyway. Maybe when he’d been there a few days and saw that the Pershings were keeping their word, when he’d had a few nights of not going to bed hungry, he would realize they were better off just staying for the seven weeks left, nicking a few baubles here and there, and then leaving. Maybe together, maybe going their separate ways.
George wasn’t sure how this would go. But he did know he wasn’t going to give James all the things they’d already nicked. Not unless his brother could prove that he meant them to be a family and wouldn’t just disappear again if things got sticky. “Where did you go after the beaks nabbed us?” he asked.
“Never you mind about that. That’s our old life.” James spread his arms. “This is our new one. You go do your dancing now. I’m going to take a tour of the house.”
Sighing, George put a hand on the door handle. “Just remember, if you get caught pocketing things, you’ll ruin it for me and Rosie, too.”
James took two long steps forward and cuffed George on the back of the head. “I told you, I ain’t getting caught again.” Abruptly he smiled, tousling George’s hair before George could duck away from him. “If we do this right, we’ll have a nice little cottage with a garden, a puppy for Rosie, and no worries ever again. Just hand me whatever you nick and I’ll sell it off, and just like that we’ll all be plump in the pocket.”
Rose was waiting just inside her door when he returned to her bedchamber. “What did he say?”
“We’re to slip him the things we nick so we can be a family.”
“He’s not a very good family. He threw a sack of rats on you.”
“I remember.” George shuddered. “But he says he’ll sell the things we find, which is easier than me trying to do it. When we have enough blunt, we’ll buy a cottage and get you a puppy.”
“A puppy?” Rose hugged herself. “Oh, I want a puppy.”
“He knows that. That’s why he said it. Don’t be a baby, Rose. We have to be careful about this. About him. If any of us gets caught taking things that ain’t ours, they can send for the constabulary. James’ll go to prison, and we’ll go back to the stone jug—or once the Pershings are finished lying to the duke, they’ll send us to a pig farm so they won’t break the agreement.”
“They wouldn’t do that to us.”
“You don’t know that. Nothing here is ours, except what we take.” He hated talking to her like that, but if James did do something bad, they would have to leave whether the agreement was finished or not. She needed to be ready.
Mr. P stood up when they walked into the breakfast room, but Mrs. P wasn’t there. “Have you spoken to your brother?” he asked, patting George on the shoulder.
“Yes. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. He left before, and we didn’t know if he would come back.”
“I understand, I think. This is complicated, but if you don’t mind, Emmeline and I would like to keep looking for a proper family for you. It will give you a second choice, at the least.”
George nodded. It was actually a third choice, since he and Rosie had already decided to make a run for it after the duke’s party, but he couldn’t tell Mr. P that. “It’s in the agreement. We should hold to that.”
“Just don’t send us to a pig farm when you’re done with us,” Rosie piped up, selecting her breakfast and sitting at the mister’s elbow. “You can’t wear nice dresses at a pig farm.”
“Who said you’re going to a pig farm?”