Page 82 of Of Fate and Phantoms
He took the blankets, but I didn't let go. He narrowed his gaze. "Tell Mr. Fitzroy we won't be doing any more spying for you."
"What?" Finley blurted out. "And miss out on more of this?" He indicated the blankets. "Mink, we can't afford not to spy for 'em."
"You're an idiot, Finley, if you think they care for us. Don't let these blankets fool you."
"Of course we care," I said. "We don't want to see you put in harm's way. I understand if the meeting tonight scared you."
"We ain't scared," Finley said, puffing out his chest.
I held Mink's gaze until he looked away. "I got to think of the young 'uns," he said. "I got to keep them safe."
"Then come and live with us. We have room. Mr. Fitzroy won't mind."
"And do more spying for him?"
"Not if you don't want to. He won't ask you to do anything you're not comfortable doing."
Mink shook his head. "He'll ask. That type always want something in return."
"They do not," I said, indignant. I let go of the blankets. "You're wrong about him, Mink, but I understand if you feel overwhelmed and unsure right now. You know where to find us if you change your mind, or if you simply need something. Don't go hungry anymore. It's not necessary."
His lips flattened, and I could see he understood the benefit of coming to us on occasion. I suspected if it was just him, his pride would stop him accepting something for nothing, but he genuinely seemed to care for the others in his charge. He wouldn't see them starve if there was an alternative.
I rested a hand on his shoulder. "Be careful."
He nodded.
Finley sighed. "Be seeing you soon, Fleet-foot Charlie." He touched the brim of his cap then disappeared through the hole in the wall.
Mink followed without a backward glance.
I returned to the coach, pausing at the door to give Mink an opportunity to change his mind, but the boards remained in place, unmoving. With a sigh, I climbed inside and Doyle drove off.
"You look troubled," Alice said quietly. "Are the boys all right?"
"Mink's rattled. He feels responsible for them all, and he worries that there'll be trouble now. He thinks Lincoln will ask for more from them, and expose them to danger."
"You reassured him, didn't you?"
"Yes, but he won't take my word for it." I sighed again. "It's a lot for young shoulders to bear."
"You bore it too, once."
"Not leadership. I never took on that task. I never wanted it." I didn't think Mink wanted it either, but it had been thrust upon him after Stringer's death. I wished I could do something for him, for all of them. I could, if only Mink would accept my help.
Alice squeezed my hand and I looked up at her. She gave a small nod in Harriet's direction, sitting opposite. Harriet stared out the window into the inky black streets of Clerkenwell. She wasn't very good at shielding her emotions, and her misery was written clear on her face.
"Harriet?" I asked softly. "Don't be too upset."
"How can I not be?" Her lower lip wobbled and she sniffed. "That was the first opportunity I've had to talk to someone like myself and he wasn't interested in talking to me."
Alice pulled a handkerchief out of her reticule and passed it to her. "I'm sorry, Harriet."
Harriet dabbed at her eyes and nose. "So am I. I wanted to ask a woman shifter for advice."
"What sort of advice?"
"You wouldn't understand. Neither of you would. I mean…lookat your lovely delicate hands!" She looked down at her thick, knobby fingers, twisting the corner of the handkerchief. "They're ugly. I'm ugly."
