8
Beau escorted his exhausted charge up the steps of his townhouse on Pall Mall. He glanced about casually as he did so, checking for any coaches lingering nearby or men watching from the corners of mews, but it was too early for that. He suspected it would take at least a day for word to spread, and for Monmouth’s suspicions to be raised.
Pall Mall was composed of stately aristocratic dwellings, but if one journeyed east they would soon stumble into the slums of London. The impoverished were an ever present specter haunting the edges of the privileged sections of the city. Most of the ton pretended not to notice, but Beau did, and when possible, he offered coin to the hungry families he came across.
“Welcome back, sir.” His butler, Rees Stoddard, shared a warm smile as he accepted Beau
