An innocent young woman who had been snatched off the street for the purpose of getting more of her coin. Tonbridge had been furious when he’d learned what had happened. He had dealt with the abbess himself and made Caro promise never to go there again. If the townspeople ever learned of it, Caro would have ended up in prison or worse.
After that she had only approached the girls on the street while the abbess’s minions had jeered at her. Katy had been the only other girl to seize the opportunity the Haven offered. The rest of them had been either too apathetic or too sure they could do better in their trade. Or too afraid. But she had let them know her door was always open. That if they needed help, they would find it at the Haven. This morning there had been a real cry for help.
‘I am told they have taken a child from her father in payment of debt,’ she said baldly. ‘There is to be an auction where she will be sold to the highest bidder—’
His face paled. ‘Let me deal with this.’
She wished she could. ‘The mistress of the house said she would deal with no one but me. Tonbridge scared her badly. I was told to come alone, but I am not such a fool. You will do exactly as I say, is that clear?’
His expression darkened, his lips flattened, but he nodded once.
‘Good.’ Not that she thought he would obey her orders if he decided on some other course of action, but then, that might be just as well.
Arm on his, she walked down the alley to stand at the foot of the steps leading up to the porticoed front door. It was painted in garishly bright red in advertisement of what went on beneath its roof.
A doorman in red livery sat on a chair in front of the door. He stood at their approach.
‘I believe your mistress is expecting me,’ Caro said firmly, aware of the unsteady beating of her heart.
The doorman’s eyes, however, were fixed on her escort. ‘Well, if ain’t Mr Read. I don’t think she expected you, sir.’
‘Likely not,’ he said calmly.
Only one reason made a man’s name known here. Betrayal was a foolish hollow ache in her chest. For the sake of the child held somewhere inside, she ignored it and mounted the steps.
* * *
The look of disgust in Caro’s eyes hurt. No doubt she thought he had come here to make use of the girls, when he had come here seeking information at the card tables. Let her think what she would. Clearly she was like all the rest of the women who enjoyed his services. She wanted nothing else from him. Not that he had much to offer.
And while this was not the way he had planned to spend his afternoon, since he had wanted to assure himself Butterworth really had left town, keeping Caro safe was more important. Try to stop her from going off half-cocked had been Tonbridge’s exact words in his letter. A helpful warning that had made him think to bring along his pistol. A habit left over from the war. A soldier never knew when he might need his firearm, even on the most peaceful of days.
If he had been able to get to the pistol the night he lost his hand, things might have turned out very differently. For one thing, he would not have been alive to tell the tale. He pushed back the darkness of the memory.
The porter opened the door and Caro swept inside with Blade bringing up a very close rear.
In the daylight, the hall looked tawdry and garish, like the outside, but at night when the candles flickered and nubile females wandered around in scanty clothing, the male guests didn’t notice the furnishings. Blade knew exactly how a brothel worked; he’d spent the first few years of his life as an occupant. He’d been lucky he’d been permitted to stay there with his mother.
The doorman gestured to an open door with his thumb. ‘Missus is in there. She’s expecting you.’
Caro marched into the room with her chin up. Blade stayed close at her shoulder.
The voluptuous henna-haired woman sprawled on the sofa in a gauzy robe didn’t get up. The man behind her, a rough-looking fellow, narrowed his gaze on Blade.
‘Nice to see you again, Mrs Falkner,’ the woman said in a husky voice some men would have found attractive when she was younger. Now she merely looked raddled in her elaborately curled wig and a robe cut so low across her bosom it left nothing to the imagination. ‘Brought your bully boy with you this time, did you?’ The irony in the woman’s voice grated on Blade’s ear, but he said nothing.
‘This is Mr Read,’ Caro said calmly. ‘Late of the Twenty-Fifth Hussars.’
‘I know who he is,’ the woman said, smiling at him coyly. He tried not to show his distaste. There was no sense in insulting the woman. At least, not yet.
Mrs Falkner removed her gloves in the manner of a pugilist removing his coat. ‘I am told you plan to auction a girl of fourteen this evening. I will give you fifty pounds for her.’
The woman glanced up at the man behind her. ‘I told you.’
Fifty pounds? Blade reeled at the princely sum.
‘That is what you expect to realise at the auction, is it not?’
‘Perhaps more,’ the abbess said.
‘Or perhaps not as much,’ Caro replied. ‘A bird in the hand, madam?’
The woman appeared to be considering the offer.
‘If you don’t take it,’ Blade said, ‘I’ll have you closed down by the end of the afternoon.’
‘On whose authority?’
‘The Duke of Stantford. While his son is out of town I am acting as his representative.’
Caro looked startled, but didn’t speak.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t believe you.’
He pulled out his letter of commission with the ducal seal. ‘I can assure you it is true. Now, shall I have you closed down or will you co-operate?’ It was no idle threat and the woman knew it. Oh, she would start up again—they always did—but in the meantime she would have no income and her girls would scatter far and wide.
‘What Mrs Falkner is offering is more than fair,’ he added with a hard smile. Far more than fair. And if Tonbridge wouldn’t pay it, Blade would raise the money himself. Somehow.
‘I’ll need the money in my hand before I hands the lass over,’ the abbess said, her voice more a whine than a demand.
Caro plucked fifty pounds from her reticule and held it up.
The woman hesitated, but the sight of the money was too much. The sum equalled what she’d likely make in profit in six months.
‘All right, I’ll take it.’ She sat up and reached for the bills.
Caro whipped them out of her reach. ‘In addition,’ she said, with twin spots of colour high on her cheeks, ‘you will promise me you will not take in any more children. You will swear that they are off limits from now on.’
A look of greed came over the woman’s face. ‘What about the rest of my ladies?’
Caro shook her head sadly. ‘They are adults, and if they come to me seeking refuge of their own free will, I will offer them a chance at a new life, but you must promise me you will never again permit a child through your doors.’
Astonished at her courage, Blade shifted closer. He needed to be ready, because the man behind the abbess looked as if at any moment he might leap into the fray. He must have caught Blade’s movement because his gaze flickered from Caro to him and back again.
‘Do you want me to teach them who is in charge here?’ the man growled.
The woman laughed and waved a languid hand. ‘Fetch the girl.’ She looked at Caro and there was an odd look on her face. If it weren’t impossible, Blade would have thought it was sympathy. ‘And tell me,’ she said as the man left the room with a last threatening glance at Blade, ‘what will this lass be doing at this Haven of yours?’
‘She will learn to read and write, if need be, and be assisted to enter a respectable trade.’ She pulled a pamphlet from her reticule. ‘This outlines our mission. Our main aim is to
keep mothers and children together. But all women are welcome within our doors.’
The woman reached out and took the pamphlet.
Blade could barely prevent his jaw from dropping. He’d seen generals with less panache and authority than Caro Falkner. And in that moment, he knew he not only liked her, that not only did he find her an attractive sensual woman, he knew he was feeling something far stronger. Something she had made perfectly clear that she would not welcome from any man. He wanted to make her his.
The man dragged a girl into the room. She was so small, he wondered if she was even as old as fourteen. Her glance took him in and her large blue eyes opened wide with consternation. And then he wondered if she wasn’t far older than she looked at first glance.
The girl spotted Caro and a look of intense relief passed over her face. Blade realised that, standing as he was between Caro and the door, the girl had seen only him at first.
‘Linny, you are to go with this lady and do as she says,’ the abbess said, eyeing the fifty pounds in Caro’s hand.
Caro handed over the money and held out a hand to Linny. ‘Come, child, we are going to find you a nicer place to stay.’
The girl looked Blade up and down. ‘With this gentleman, mum?’
Her voice was from the country, somewhere to the west, Blade thought.
‘No. With me,’ Caro said firmly. ‘What is your name?’
‘Linny. Linette Sanders, I was baptised,’ the girl said. She glanced over at the abbess and pouted. ‘You promised me a pretty dress with red ribbons.’
‘This lady will give you all the red ribbons you want,’ the abbess said. ‘Won’t you, ma’am?’
‘I am sure we can find some,’ Caro said. ‘Come along, Linny.’
The girl took her hand and they walked out.
Blade lingered a moment and addressed himself to the abbess, while keeping a watchful eye on her man. ‘I’ll be dropping by from time to time to make sure you keep your word to the lady.’
The ruffian made a move in his direction. Blade put his hand in his pocket, closing his fingers around the pistol grip.
The abbess put up a hand. She gave Blade a knowing look. ‘I’ll wager the loss of your hand don’t hamper you much, does it, Mr Read?’
‘Not much,’ he acknowledged.
‘Any time you fancy to sample the wares here, sir, you’ll be welcome. Girls love a soldier in or out of uniform.’
He bowed. ‘Unlikely, ma’am. But I will keep it in mind.’
The woman grinned. Her man smirked.
Blade strode out on Caro’s heels relieved nothing had happened, but also with the disquieting sense it had all been much too easy.
* * *
‘It’s a lovely dress,’ Caro said, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing so as not to distress the newest occupant of the Haven.
Linny looked far from certain about the sprig muslin Caro had found among the gowns she had purchased in the market for just such an event. Respectable clothes, usually cast-offs given to ladies’ maids and then sold on.
‘You said I’d have red ribbons,’ the girl said sadly. ‘Everyone keeps promising me red ribbons and then never gives me them.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Caro said with as much patience as she could muster. ‘I will go to the market first thing in the morning and purchase you some.’
‘Can you not go now?’
‘Sadly, no. The market is closed.’
A sharp knock heralded Mr Read’s entrance.
Caro tried not to bristle. It was none of her business that both the doorman and the abbess had recognised him. He was a man. And men did as they wished, but she was disappointed.
In fact, her stomach had sunk and her heart had ached at the knowledge he was known at that place. She had no right to feel disappointed. He was a single gentleman who would take his pleasures where he could find them. And the fact that she had been weak enough to let him find them with her was her own stupid fault.
At least there would be no unfortunate results this time. Yet she could not think of Tommy that way. Not for a minute.
Mr Read’s gaze took in the tea tray. ‘It seems I am just in time.’
‘Apparently so,’ Caro said in a slightly sharper tone than she had intended.
She just wished he didn’t look so handsome and charming with his wickedly sensual smile.
He looked over at Linette. ‘May I compliment you on your appearance, Miss Linette? The colour of that gown shows your eyes to advantage.’
Far too charming. ‘What did I tell you, Linette?’
The girl tossed her head. ‘It doesn’t have red ribbons.’
Mr Read reached into his inside breast pocket and withdrew a small packet wrapped in brown paper. ‘I stopped at Mrs Fitch’s after I left you here.’ He winked at Caro.
Winked! How had she fallen to the level of being winked at? No gentleman winked at a respectable woman. But then, she wasn’t respectable, was she? Hadn’t been for a very long time. It had all been an act. One he’d now seen right through. How very lowering.
Eagerly, Linette took the package and tore open the paper. A tumble of red ribbons fell into her lap. She gazed at Mr Read with a huge smile. ‘Now you are what I calls a proper gent.’
A stab of jealousy pierced Caro’s breast, causing a hitch in her breathing. She could not be jealous, not of this child and not when, as she had repeatedly told herself, what they had enjoyed was merely physical.
‘Mrs Falkner asked me to purchase them for you,’ he said.
An out-and-out lie for which Caro felt stupidly grateful.
The girl gave Blade a considering look before she smiled at Caro. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’
‘You are welcome,’ Caro said primly, deciding that arguing the point in front of the girl would be senseless. As well as undermining to her authority. ‘I was not sure Mr Read would find any given the lateness of the hour.’
‘Can I wear them?’ the girl asked.
‘You may. Go and ask Beth to help put one in your hair. Then she will take you up to join Tommy in the schoolroom. We can decide what to do with the rest of the ribbons later.’
The girl got up, bobbed a curtsy and left.
‘May I pour you some tea?’ Caro asked Blade.
‘Thank you.’ He cast her his seductive smile and she tried to ignore the melting going on inside her. And the longing.
‘You don’t know how grateful I am at this moment,’ she said. ‘I was at my wits’ end. All she could think about were red ribbons.’
She passed him his tea. He took the cup and set it on the table beside his right hand, which must be why he’d chosen that particular chair in the first place. He’d assessed the room and taken the only chair where it would be easy for him to manage the teacup, like a soldier assessing the position of his enemy on a battlefield. He was a very intelligent man. Clever.
And that was why he, and not she, had thought of buying the ribbons.
He sipped at his tea. ‘So, what will you do with her?’
‘She says she wants to be a nursemaid.’
He frowned. ‘Do you think she’s old enough to be given the care of a nursery?’
‘One thing is certain—for all her simple ways and small stature, she is a good deal older than fourteen.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘It seems once more I have been gulled by that woman. Still, I do feel Linny does not belong in that place. I have asked her to keep Thomas amused while Beth is standing in for Cook. It will give me an opportunity to judge how she handles responsibility. Once I feel she is ready, I will look around for a position with a family with young children.’
‘She cannot return to her own home?’
A spurt of anger rose in her breast at how easily she’d fallen for their tales. ‘All that talk of a
father selling her to pay his debts was a tarradiddle, apparently. She says she’s an orphan and was put out to service. She left her last employer because they treated her badly and ended up at the bordello a few months ago. They lured her in with the promise of lots of red ribbons. They’ve been teaching her to act the child.’
‘You believe this story?’
How did he know she wasn’t quite satisfied with what the girl had told her? ‘I think she is hiding something.’ She winced. ‘But she seems sincere in her wish for a new start.’
He frowned. ‘You want me to talk to the abbess?’
‘What, so that I can ask for my money back?’ She shook her head. ‘No, I won’t do that. And my mistake won’t cost Lord Tonbridge a penny. I used my own money.’
‘A great deal of money.’
She sighed. It was the money she was setting aside for Thomas’s schooling. She would just have to be more careful in future. ‘I could not let her stay in that place.’
He looked grim, but said nothing and took another sip of his tea.
* * *
Caro looked exhausted, Blade thought. And worried. Deep inside he knew it was his duty—no, his very great pleasure—to take that worry from her shoulders. If only she would allow it. But how to do it when the woman was set about with defences that even Wellington could not breach?
‘You were extraordinary today,’ he said.
She stiffened. ‘I apologise if you consider my behaviour inappropriate.’
Was that what she believed he thought? Her lack of trust ran bone deep. Once more he wondered who had made her so suspicious of the motives of others. He took a sip of tea and considered how best to allay her fears. ‘You misunderstand me,’ he finally said. ‘You were reckless. Foolhardy in the extreme.’ Her face became a rigid mask of indifference. ‘And also marvellously brave. I am in awe of your courage.’
0373298811 (R) Page 11
