The thin arms unwound and a pair of reproachful blue eyes looked up at him. Looking down into a delicate face, Benedict realised for the first time that the child was not, after all, a boy, but a girl—a girl dressed in androgynous jeans and tee shirt. The realisation didn’t soften his expression; the menace that would have made sensible souls cross the road didn’t appear to make any impact on the child.
‘He’s my brother,’ she continued, not taking her remarkable china-blue eyes from his face. ‘My stepbrother, actually; my father married his mother,’ she elaborated, warming to the theme. A furrow developed between her brows as she mentally composed a full family history. ‘His father’s dead now.’
Benedict blinked as his parent was heartlessly disposed of. This kid was unbelievable. You had to admire her sheer cheek, even if she was mad or dangerous, or possibly a combination of both! His lips quivered.
‘It was probably the drink.’ This, if recent comments had been true, was the direction his son was driving him in—so long as the vintage was good, of course. Nothing but the best for Sir Stuart Arden.
He felt the swift exhalation of relief that made the child’s slight frame shudder and immediately regretted this frivolous response as the blue eyes smiled approvingly up at him. He wanted to groan; the last thing he wanted to do was encourage this lunatic child. As far as she was concerned he’d become some sort of co-conspirator. Like an idiot he’d let the obvious opportunity to deny absolutely all knowledge of her to pass him by. Well, he’d soon rectify that! He had plans. He thought it unlikely that Sabrina had been pining away for him, despite her assurances, and there had been a dearth of single female company on the property his grandmother had left him in the Australian outback.
‘Do you think it’s responsible to allow a child like this to wander around the city at this time of night?’ The woman’s lips pursed in distaste as she looked him up and down. The man’s expression showed no less disgust, but more caution. He was also keeping a safe distance from the dangerous-looking character.
‘No, I don’t,’ Benedict replied honestly. He could readily share this woman’s sense of outrage. His eyes narrowed in anger as he thought of the irresponsible parents who robbed children like this one of their innocence by letting them roam the streets alone.
‘Y-yes, well…’ she stammered, thrown off her stride as much by the glint of anger in his dark eyes as his unexpected agreement.
‘They tried to make me go with them, Steven.’ The child had a very clear and penetrating voice. The male half of the couple looked embarrassed and alarmed as several people on the pavement, which seethed with a cross-section of humanity, glanced in their direction. ‘Mum says I shouldn’t talk to strangers!’
‘We only wanted to take her to the police station.’
‘Be my guest.’ He felt dawning sympathy for this pair of Samaritans. He wanted nothing more than to hand the responsibility for this disreputable child back to someone who was obviously more qualified, not to mention more eager than himself. The joke had gone on long enough. As he took a step towards them the man backed hastily away.
‘Well, all’s well that ends well,’ he said, taking his more reluctant wife’s arm firmly. ‘Goodnight.’ The woman continued to cast suspicious glances over her shoulder as she was led away. Benedict watched their departure with dawning dismay.
‘I thought they’d never go.’ The skinny child abruptly released the hand she’d been holding. ‘You were very useful.’ She nodded towards him.
Benedict sighed; a conscience was a very uncomfortable thing to have sometimes. ‘They were only trying to help. That’s pretty commendable.’
‘I don’t need help.’
‘The police station seems a good idea to me.’ No matter how streetwise this kid seemed, he couldn’t leave her to her own devices in an area that was crawling with undesirable persons. The child’s next words made it obvious she considered him one of those undesirables.
‘The police would have believed them.’ She nodded in the direction where the couple had been swallowed up by the assorted bodies that thronged the pavement. ‘You don’t look like the sort of person the police would believe at all. I picked you because you look scruffy and mean,’ she told him frankly. ‘I’d say you were trying to kidnap me and I’d scream very loudly. They’d believe me; that man thought you were going to hit him,’ she ended triumphantly.
The kid’s logic was flawless and her self-possession was staggering. A glance at his reflection in the plate-glass window told him she was right.