Page 85 of How to Cross a Marquess (The Way to a Lord's Heart 3)

“Why would they be doing it then?”

“I talked to Lally.” The lad smiled. “Couldn’t really call it a conversation. She talks about whatshewants, not what a person might want to know. But I’d swear she has a secret. Right pleased about it, she is. Hugging it to herself, like. And she won’t be telling.”

“If I spoke to her parents?” Arthur asked.

Tom shook his head. “They’d want to help you, most likely. There might be shouting. But Lally won’t care. I’m thinking people shout at her a good bit.”

He wasn’t going to bully a dreamy child, Arthur thought.

“Another thing is, I reckon that girl knows every nook and path hereabouts. Even if she thinks that fairies live in the mounds. She could slip about easy.”

“Perhaps we can keep an eye on her. See where she goes. She might visit the letter writer.”

“I got a few boys doing that,” Tom said.

“They won’t plague her?”

“I picked out some good fellows. Those with a bit of heart. Said as how her folks were worried about her, didn’t want her getting hurt.”

“Well done.”

“And we are payingthem,” Tom added with a shrug.

“Do you need money?”

“I will, by tomorrow.”

Arthur fetched his purse and opened it, offering Tom a five-pound note.

Laughing, the lad waved it away. “Coin, my lord. We ain’t making their fortunes here. A handful of sixpences, by choice.”

“I’ll ask the housekeeper for change and get them to you.” Arthur replaced the banknote.

Tom rose. “I’ll keep my eyes open as well.”

“On your rambles in search of snakes?” asked Arthur with a smile.

Tom grimaced. “There’s no more of that. That Wrayle fellow’s keeping John to his books. Only way he can get at him, with William hovering about.”

“Who is William?”

“Footman.” Tom face showed sly enjoyment. “Her ladyship set him on Wrayle, seeing as how Wrayle ain’t got no manners belowstairs.” Having explained this, Tom still lingered.

“Was there something else?” Arthur always enjoyed Tom’s point of view.

“Well, Iwaswondering, my lord, what’s the point of Latin? John says he’s got to learn it, no joke, and that there’s six different ways to write each and every word.” Tom shook his head. “But nobody speaks Latin any more, seemingly, haven’t for hundreds of years.” The lad’s homely face was creased in puzzlement. “I like learning myself, my lord. You know that. But I don’t see the point of knowing a language that ain’t around any longer.”

It was always interesting having Tom about, Arthur thought. The lad’s curiosity allowed him—or goaded him—to delve into matters Arthur had never considered before. Was he to justify English pedagogy now? “Our own language developed out of Latin,” he said. “Partly, at least. So knowing Latin can help one work out the meaning of words one doesn’t know. Also, there is the heritage of the Roman Empire. Their history and literature and so on were written in Latin. All the best schools teach it.” Immediately Arthur hoped that last point wouldn’t wound a boy who’d had minimal opportunities for schooling.

Tom nodded, showing no sign of chagrin. “It’s not just Wrayle bullying John then. That’s good.” He grinned. “And that’s why Wrayle keeps twitting me for not knowing a single bit of Latin.”

“Do you need me to speak to this Wrayle?” Arthur didn’t like the mention of bullying.

“Naught for you to worry about, my lord.”

“Very well.” A thought came, and Arthur wondered if Tom’s sense of mischief was rubbing off on him. “I could teach you some Latin tags.”

“Tags?”

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