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The boy gazed heavenward. “And dine on strawberries with fresh cream and taste butter straight from the churn...” He spoke as if he’d learned the phrase by rote—she could just imagine him kneeling by his bed every night and reciting it in amongst his prayers. If he ever said his prayers.

“But I already have a job,” he continued. “I don’t know if it’s honest or not, but I work for a swell gentleman.”

Belinda was horrified. “Are you telling me that a gentleman sends you to steal people’s purses?”

The boy shook his head violently. “No, no. I only do a little bit of pilfering if I has to, when he ain’t got an errand for me. I can’t tell you nothing about him.” He puffed out his skinny chest and added, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“I cannot believe the enormity of my misfortune. It appears, Miss Bellamy, that Fate has thrown us together once again.”

Belinda didn’t even need to turn round. She knew his voice, she felt his presence like the prickle of the air before a thunderstorm.

Piers Darvill.

The boy jerked in her grip, but Caroline still held him fast, so he couldn’t escape.

Under the grime, the lad’s face had visibly paled.

Curse that man! Why did he always have to appear at the most awkward moment?

Rather to her surprise, Darvill did not address her immediately. Instead, he gave herself and Caroline a curt bow, then turned to the boy.

“Tom. What have you been up to this time?”

His voice was level, but firm, and the grubby urchin responded by pushing his shoulders back.

“Nothing, sir, nothing. I was just here to see the balloon and bumped against this lady. She thinks I was taking her money but look. She’s still got everything, I swear.”

The boy behaved as if he knew Darvill, and Darvill certainly knew him. Something nagged at the back of Belinda’s mind, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Surely, this was more than mere chance?

“We have no need of your assistance, Mr. Darvill. Caroline—I mean, Miss Brent and I have the situation under control.”

“I’m sure you have.” The handsome mouth quirked up at one corner. “Rather than allow this miscreant to spoil your day, allow me to remove him and ensure he receives sufficient punishment. Because, Tom, I know full well when you’re lying.” This last was said in a growl, and the boy shuddered.

Belinda bristled. “I sincerely hope you don’t mean to beat this poor scrap of a creature. It sounds as if he gets enough of that at home. I believe the carrot is far more effective than the stick.”

“I’m inclined to agree, Miss Bellamy, but I find the threat of a beating is an extremely good deterrent. I think you can trust me to deal with this reprobate appropriately. Come along, Tom.”

Caroline released her grasp with an expression of relief.

“No, Caroline, we’re not going yet. I cannot surrender Tom to a gentleman we barely know. Our destination can wait.”

“Off to perform more miracles of the culinary art at the Lyon’s Den, Miss Bellamy?”

For Heaven’s sake! This man was so insulting. She supposed he must think he was being witty—more fool him.

“I’m getting tired of your questions, sir, and your interference in my private business. You’re not only a rake and a rogue, but appallingly rude. What kind of example is that to set to any child?”

He merely laughed at that, which made her even crosser. So—he found her amusing, did he? She’d have to put a stop to that.

A sound feathered through the crowd, and Belinda looked up.

“Oh—the balloon is rising!” She forgot her annoyance and stood in silent admiration as the envelope filled and began to ascend.

Caroline turned too, and, much to Belinda’s surprise, Mr. Darvill bent down, hefted Tom up, and set him on his shoulders so he could watch the spectacle. For some reason Belinda could not explain, this action made her go hot all over.

“Don’t strangle me, you young whippersnapper!”

Holding tightly onto her reticule, Belinda allowed herself the luxury of watching the graceful balloon ascent, envying those who had purchased themselves the opportunity to rise above the mob and see London from the perspective of the birds that soared above.

Everyone was united in their admiration, and she was so caught up in the moment that she barely noticed the protective hand settling at her waist.

The next instant, however, she was fully aware of Piers Darvill. The heat of his body pulsed through her, and her heart was warmed by his act of kindness toward Tom. Even though it meant the boy’s dirty foot was now dangerously close to her shoulder.

The unexpected moment of conviviality was not to last. The protective hand was wrenched away, Tom toppled to the ground, and Roland Chetwynd thrust himself between Belinda and Mr. Darvill.

“Take your hands off Miss Bellamy, you incorrigible rogue! You will make reparation for this insult. I’ll meet you at dawn—your choice of weapons.”

What? How could a pleasant interlude turn into a disaster in a matter of seconds? Roland had just challenged Mr. Darvill to a duel, and the chances of either of them coming out of such a meeting unscathed were extremely slim.

And it was all entirely her fault!