"My name is Emily Chambers," I said. It was rather a relief not to see recognition on their faces. True anonymity at last.
"Find out what you can from them," Jacob said. "I'll keep watch." But he didn't disappear immediately. Instead he sized up the three boys. Although none of them were tall lads, they were all as tall as me and would undoubtedly continue to grow if their lanky limbs were any indication. The two boys who'd stood quickly didn't quite meet my gaze and shifted uncomfortably as if they couldn't keep still. The other boy, the blond one, not only met my gaze but held it.
"I'm 'Arry Cotton," he said, "and this is Johnny Fife and Peter Bowker." The one who'd hissed at him was Bowker. He and Fife smiled shyly at me and blushed hard. Harry Cotton seemed to think this was funny and sniggered.
"Call if you need me," Jacob said then disappeared.
"You the replacement?" Harry asked. Of the three boys, he looked to be the oldest, or perhaps it was simply because he had the beginnings of a leaner, harder jaw whereas the other two still had the soft, rounded faces of children. Fife had a set of dimples in either cheek.
"Replacement?" I asked.
"For Mr. Felchurch. 'E up and left yesterday. Got a job as a slave at some toff's 'ouse." "'Arry," Bowker whispered loudly.
"Slave?" I asked.
"Footman," Fife said, blushing again and still not meeting my gaze.
"Slave," Harry Cotton said and sniffed. "As good as." He threw his cloth down on the boot he'd been polishing then spat on it. He followed up his show of defiance with a raised brow at me. Obviously he lumped me in with those same toffs.
"Ah. No, I'm not Mr. Felchurch's replacement." I stepped closer and lowered my voice. I particularly wanted to capture Harry's interest. I suspect if anyone was going to talk, it would be him. The other two were either too afraid or too good. "I'm the employer of Maree Finch," I said, bending the truth. "Do you remember her?"
"Yeah," said Harry, shrugging one shoulder. "So?"
"So...she's gone missing. I need to find her."
Bowker and Fife exchanged glances but there was nothing guilty in their expressions, just concern. Cotton continued to meet my gaze. He crossed his arms over his chest and thrust his hands up under his armpits. "Why do you need to find 'er?" he asked. "She nick something of yours?"
"No," I lied. I was becoming very good at it with all the recent practice. "I'm simply concerned for her." That at least was the truth. I hated to think where Maree had gone. More than likely she'd joined her brother and was learning how to become a better thief. Of course there were worse occupations for a poor girl to learn on London's streets but I didn't want to contemplate that scenario.