James hadn't expected to see the girl at his father's offices. Hadn't expected to see her again at all after she'd abandoned him on the rowboat, yet here she is when he hears the creaking of the door hinges and looks up from his work. Little mudlark in her black hat and long coat, once again seeking him out in the dead of night. It's a dangerous practice. He doubts her mother knows.

"What are you doing here?"

Winter isn't deterred by his harsh tone as she climbs the steps until she can stand in front of his desk, fixing her gaze on the leger and documents he has laid out before him. "Thought I could be useful," she says, and shrugs. "Man with the silver tooth not killed you yet?"

"Not yet. Do you have news of another assassin?"

"No."

"Then I have nothing for you. Go back to the brothel. Helga will be missing you."

"She won't. Too busy. The clients are in."

No wonder she's avoiding it. James grunts, then looks at the bags of silver gathered on the desk. "Can you do sums?"

"A little."

He takes one of the money bags and upends it so the coin spills onto the desk beside him like flour from a sack. "I need sixty three pounds. You know how many shillings are in a pound?"

Winter nods.

"Count them."

With a tiny smile of satisfaction, the girl crosses to take the seat across from him and begins stacking the coins into a fresh pile one by one. She looks amazed to see so much coin in one place. Maybe he should worry that she'll attempt to take a few. He doesn't.

The pair work in silence, until James finishes another page of his leger and crosses off another of the loans.

"Winter, once you have that sixty three, I need you to count out another eighteen and six shillings. Can you remember that?"

"Yes Mister Delaney."

They carry on.

A short while later, James catches her staring up at the rafters. She's peering at one of the landings in the attic space, cast into shadow and partly enclosed by a wooden balustrade. She notices him looking. "I used to sleep up there," she says, tone flat and devoid of the sentimentality he might have expected.

"Where do you sleep now?"

"Mistress found some new rooms. Not as big."

James just grunts.

Several hours pass before they finish. By the time he's done going through the contracts, James has totalled his father's debts to two hundred and fifteen pounds and seventeen shillings. At the last count, Winter had gathered two hundred and five. He's about to tell her to count the difference when he realises that behind the piles of silver, the girl is slumped in her chair, one arm resting atop the table and her head propped on top of it. Her hat is askew and she's breathing slowly. Deeply.

James heaves a sigh. He supposes he doesn't have to go back to the house tonight.

He takes a candle up to check out the attic first, though as expected, Helga's whores have taken most of the meager excuses for furnishings with them. There's a couple of sacks of straw that might serve as pillows, and a ratty piece of cloth that might once have been a blanket. It will have to do.

He goes back down to fetch Winter, picking her up gently in his arms and taking care not to disturb her as he climbs the stairs. She's small, and light, yet sleeping as heavily as the mountain of silver she's just counted.

He wonders if waking up here will make her feel at home.

James sets her down gently on the floorboards, lying down beside her and propping himself up against the sacks. There's no comfortable way to do it, he concludes, but discomfort is hardly something he's unused to. It doesn't have to be the same for Winter.

Carefully, he slides an arm under her shoulder again and tilts her until she can use his body as a pillow, her head coming to rest against his chest. It's hardly the same as a real bed, but no doubt warmer. Better than sleeping with whores and punters doing their business in the room next door.

Let Brace wonder where he is, for one more night. Let Helga wonder where Winter is, if she stops fucking long enough to notice the girl is gone. He'll keep her safe for a few more hours.

James turns his head to blow out the candle and closes his eyes.