by Shana Galen
“But—”
He raised one finger and gave her a look that would have terrified her the day before. But she wasn’t so scared of him anymore.
“Give me two hours,” the buyer outside the building was saying. “I can get the blunt.”
“Two hours. Not a minute more.”
Susanna heard the sound of boots moving.
“Meet me at Coffin Joe’s.”
More shuffling of feet, and then a sound like a child’s whimper. Susanna was on her feet, candlestick in hand, before Gideon could catch her. He tried. His hand snaked out, but she was faster, and his fingers did little but grasp the fabric of her sleeve before she pulled free. She ran to the door, her legs weak and wobbly, like a newborn filly’s. She hoisted herself high enough to see through the broken wood at the top of the door.
At first she saw nothing but the building across the muddy street and the debris piled against its stoop. She looked to the right and caught sight of a man’s hat.
A hand came around her waist, but she shoved the thief back and levered herself higher. The man had moved farther away, far enough that she could see he had the arm of a small child clamped in his hand.
She gasped and jumped down, fumbling with the bar on the door.
Gideon slammed a hand over it. “What are you doing?”
“There’s a child!” She pointed at the door. “He’s selling a child.”
“If you go out there, he might very well decide to sell you.”
She shoved him aside and pushed the bar up. “You won’t allow that to happen.”
For some reason, he didn’t slam the bar back down before she lifted it. The heavy wood thudded on the floor, and Susanna pulled the door wide. She took the steps in one leap and called, “Stop! You!”
The man turned, and her heart plummeted into her belly. Perhaps this had not been the best idea.
* * *
Gideon stared at the dark rectangle where the beam had been. Her words had completely stunned him.
She trusted him.
She believed he’d protect her.
No one had ever believed that about him before. Not even Marlowe had trusted him or expected him to protect her from all of Satin’s cruelty.
Marlowe was cunning.
Strawberry was not.
“Give me that child!”
It was as though she wanted to be killed. Either she was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Maybe they were the same thing.
Beauty scampered to the doorway and barked, then looked back at him.
“I’m going,” Gideon said. He was neither brave nor stupid, but for some reason her words latched on to that part of him deep inside. The part he kept carefully protected. He couldn’t abandon her. Not when she believed in him.
Gideon ducked through the doorway and caught up to Strawberry. For all her bravado, she hadn’t gone far.
“Who’s going to make me?” a man asked. Assured that Strawberry was unharmed—so far—Gideon took a look at the man she’d confronted. He made a low growl in the back of his throat.
It had to be Daniel Gilfroy.
Or as he was better known, Dagger Dan. The man was known for the handmade daggers he always carried. Deadly daggers he wasn’t afraid to use to gut a man or carve out an eye or lop off an ear.
Gideon grabbed Strawberry’s arm and pulled her toward him and safety.
And then his gaze lowered to the child. The girl couldn’t have been much older than three, though he was no judge of children’s ages. She might have been five or six and small for her age. She had smudges of dirt on her face and matted brown hair, but her blue eyes were large and frightened. No tears. She’d lived a short life in the rookeries and probably had already learned tears wouldn’t save her.
“I’ll make you,” Gideon said.
Dagger Dan flicked a wrist, and one of his long, crude daggers flashed into his hand. “Come on, then.” The man motioned with the dagger, keeping one hand tightly on the child’s upper arm.
“I don’t want a fight.”
“You got one now. And I won’t even kill you, ’Arrow. I’ll leave you alive so Beezle can ’ave that privilege. ’E’s looking for you.”
Gideon raised his hands, trying to seem reasonable, though he knew it would do little good. “You want your gin. Go get it. I’ll take the child back home to her mother.” He nodded to the girl. “Bess Castle, right?”
“You know the mother?” Strawberry asked.
Gideon ignored her, unwilling to take his eyes off Dan for even a moment.
“You want ’er?” Dan asked with a sneer. “Pay for ’er.”
“You can’t sell her!” Strawberry said, glim-stick waving about in righteous anger. She pulled away from Gideon and moved closer to the child. The woman was truly half-daft. Another step or two, and Dagger Dan would slice her open. “She’s a person, not a…a piece of furniture.”
Dan’s eyes narrowed, then his gaze swept down Strawberry’s gown. Clearly, her speech had alerted him to the fact that she was one of the swells.
“Well now.” He shoved the little girl against the wall of a building. “What do we ’ave ’ere?”
“I am Susanna Derring. And you are?”
Gideon put another slash in the Daft column. She wasn’t even sane enough to take a step back when Dagger Dan advanced.
“You want the little girl?” Dan asked.
Susanna nodded.
“Then I propose a trade. You for ’er.”
“Absolutely not.”
Gideon grabbed Strawberry back and shoved her behind him before Dan moved close enough to snatch her. “No trade, Dan.”
“I ain’t giving you the brat for free. She’s mine. Payment for services rendered.”
“What services?” Strawberry demanded.
“Bess would never give you her child,” Gideon argued. He knew the woman, and she doted on the little girl. She was one of the few examples of motherhood he’d seen in the rookeries. Too many women were willing to sell their children for the next glass of gin or a full belly.
Dan flipped the dagger from one hand to the other. “The brat is mine to sell or trade. If you want ’er, you pay.”
“That’s reprehensible!” Strawberry shouted over his shoulder.
“Fancy words,” Dan said with another flip of his dagger from one hand to the next. “Come closer, and I’ll teach you a few new ones.”
He lunged, and with Strawberry hugging his back, Gideon couldn’t move fast enough. He saw the blade of the dagger coming for him, knew it would slice his face. He could only hope it wouldn’t strike his eyes. He shut his eyes in protection, but the blow never came.
Instead, something large and warm knocked him on his arse.
He rolled away, his legs tangled with Strawberry’s. Kicking free, he jumped to his feet and rounded on Dan with fists ready for a fight.
The mongrel had Dan’s wrist clamped between its jaw. Dan tried to shake off the dog, but that damn dog wouldn’t release his hand. Dan punched the dog, but she held on.
“Don’t hurt her!” Strawberry yelled.
Gideon grabbed her arm and pushed her into the street. He finally noticed the small crowd that had gathered to watch. If Beezle hadn’t known where he was, he probably knew now and was on his way. They had to run and hide before the Covent Garden Cubs made an appearance.
“Grab the brat and run,” Gideon ordered Strawberry. “I’ll catch up with you.”
“But Beauty—”
“I’ll see to her. Go!” He shoved her forward.
For once, the mort actually listened to him and grabbed her skirts with her hand. She ran, making a wide arc around Dan, and reached the child. Gideon saw her bend to speak to the brat, and then Dan finally shook the dog free. Beauty landed with a yelp of pain against the wall of t
he building. Blood dripped from Dan’s wrist, but it was a mere flesh wound. He reached into his waistcoat and extracted another dagger.
“I’ll cut you first, ’Arrow, then the dog.” Dan moved closer.
Gideon held his position. He had to distract Dan until Strawberry was away.
“And then I’ll find that little bitch and carve her pretty face!”
His hand snaked out, and Gideon feinted to the right. Pain lanced through his upper arm as Dan’s thrust sliced through his coat. It wasn’t deep, but Dan was just beginning.
Beezle would finish the job if Gideon didn’t run soon. Gideon twisted to face Dan again. Behind the man, the dog shook her head and rose to her feet. She growled softly.
One chance, Gideon thought as Dan advanced and the dagger loomed large.
One last chance.
Dan slashed at Gideon, who stumbled back, tucking his midsection in to protect himself. Gideon’s boot slammed into the wall of the building. Dan laughed and moved closer. Would he strike right or left? Gideon had to duck, and if he chose poorly, he was as good as dead. Dan raised the dagger, and Gideon tensed.
A gray blur shot before him, knocking Dan aside. The dog and man rolled, and the dog stood victorious on Dagger Dan’s chest. She growled and snapped her jaws with menace. Gideon didn’t wait. He took off in the direction Strawberry had gone. Before he could round the corner, he whistled.
The dog’s head jerked in his direction.
“Come, Beauty!”
With a yip, she bounded after him.
With the dog at his side, Gideon dodged men and carts and the greedy hands of pickpockets.
His blood pounded with the thrill of another successful escape. He had only one problem.
Strawberry was gone.
Eight
“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Susanna said, pulling the child down a set of steps and pressing her back against them so the two would be hidden from view on the street. Whereas Mayfair tended to smell sweet and clean after a hard rain, this place had a distinct stench. All of the refuse had washed down into the doorway at the bottom of the stairs, and it stunk now that the sun had risen.
The little girl whimpered, and Susanna stroked her tangled hair.
“I won’t hurt you. I would take you home.”
“Mamma,” the girl cried.
“Yes, to your mamma.” Susanna knelt and looked the child in the face. “But you must be very quiet right now. We don’t want the bad man to find us.”
The girl’s blue eyes widened, and she shook her head until her mop of curls fell over her forehead.
“Good girl. What’s your name?” Susanna whispered.
“Jemima,” the girl whispered back. “But Mamma calls me Jemma.”
“My name is Susanna. Let’s stay here and be very quiet until my friend Gideon can find us. He’ll take you back to your mamma, Jemma. Yes?”
“Yes.”
Susanna rose on tiptoes and slanted a look at the streets. She saw dozens of feet. She doubted she’d recognize Gideon’s boots if he walked by. She rose a bit higher and glanced at faces. No one looked familiar. A man spotted her and frowned, and she ducked back down again, clutching her candlestick closer. Even though she looked a complete wreck, she didn’t fit in here.
Her gown, now wrinkled and stained, was made of silk. Her gloves had long since been lost. Anyone who looked at her hands would note they were white and uncallused. She couldn’t imagine what her hair looked like. If her mother saw her now…
Her mother!
Susanna drew a sharp breath, and the little girl looked up at her in concern. Susanna managed a reassuring smile she didn’t feel.
Susanna had never considered that she might be away all night. She’d never thought about what might happen when Maggie went to wake her and found her bed empty and unused. She could imagine her mother’s panic when it was discovered Susanna was not in the house. If he wasn’t already at home, her brother, Brook, would be sent an urgent summons. He would do whatever it was inspectors did and determine she’d run away from home.
Her mother’s heart would break.
Susanna’s heart felt close to breaking. She was a terrible daughter. How could she cause her mother so much worry?
Why hadn’t she considered this might happen before she’d made the rash decision to force the thief to take her to Vauxhall Gardens? She should return home immediately.
Except she didn’t want to return home.
She still wanted to go to Vauxhall. If she returned home now, she’d ease her mother’s worry, but she’d never be allowed out of her sight again. This was her last chance at freedom.
Would she be in any more trouble if she returned tomorrow instead of today? She hated to cause her mother more worry, but what was one more day?
Oh, she was a horrible daughter. She should tell Gideon to take her back.
And then he’d never have the chance to kiss her. He’d kissed only her hand, but tonight he might kiss her on the lips. Her belly tensed, and she drew a quick breath at the thought.
She shouldn’t want such things.
But why couldn’t she have one kiss before she was consigned to matrimony with a man she didn’t even know? What was the harm, now that the harm had been done?
Jemma blinked up at her, quiet and still, and Susanna turned to peek out again. The streets were clogged with people now. Even if she left to search for Gideon, she’d never find him. She had been sheltered all her life, but she knew enough of London to realize a woman alone on the streets was not safe. She had nowhere to hide, nowhere safe to go.
Susanna felt Jemma press into her side, leaning against her. The child’s thumb had found its way into her mouth, and she looked exhausted. How was Susanna supposed to protect this child when she couldn’t even protect herself?
“Watch out!” a man yelled, and Susanna rose on tiptoes to gauge the street again. A man ran by. She could see only his legs and his shoes, but he must have been in a hurry, because he shoved aside anyone in his way. A gray dog trailed behind him.
“Beauty!”
Jemma pulled her thumb from her mouth and stared up at her.
“Wait right here,” Susanna said, holding up her hand. “I will be right back.”
The girl’s lip quivered as though she had been told this before by a person who turned out to be unreliable.
Susanna bent. “I promise, Jemma. And when I promise something, I never ever break that promise.”
Jemma’s eyes widened until they were the size and almost the color of robin’s eggs.
Susanna placed her hand on Jemma’s bony shoulder. “I promise I’ll be right back. Do you believe me?”
The child nodded wordlessly.
“Good.” Susanna lifted her skirts almost to her knees and raced to the stop of the steps. “Gideon! Gideon!” If she lost him now, she was doomed.
Several men turned to look at her, but none were Gideon. She couldn’t see him through the people and the twists of the winding street. He’d had Beauty with him.
“Beauty. Come, girl! Beauty!”
The door at the bottom of the steps where Jemma stood opened. “Wot’s all the noise?” a woman yelled.
A man leered at her from across the street and started toward her.
“Beauty!” Susanna screamed, her voice sounding desperate even to her ears.
“Do you need ’elp, dearie?” the man coming toward her asked, his dirty hands held wide.
“No!” She backed toward the steps. “Jemma, come here.” Susanna held out her hand and wiggled her fingers at Jemma.
Jemma’s little hand gripped hers tightly, and Susanna pulled the girl close.
“Just leave us alone.”
“Just leave us alone,” the man said, mocking her accent. “Ye’re new around ’ere, aren’t you?” He’d cros
sed the street, showing no sign of respecting her requests. She could run, but when she looked right, she saw others watching with interest. She looked left, and a small group of boys advanced. Dash it all!
“Come ’ere, dearie.” The man was close enough she could smell the sweat on him. He held out his hand, and she knocked it away.
“Hey!”
A low growl silenced him. Susanna broke into a smile. Between the man’s legs, she spotted Beauty with her teeth bared. Jemma gasped and began to whine.
“No, no! Jemma, she’s my dog. She won’t hurt you.” Susanna cut her gaze to the would-be attacker. “But she will hurt you. Step away, or I’ll order her to attack.”
Susanna had no idea if the dog would attack or not. Fortunately, the man stepped away. Another man ran toward them, and Susanna braced for attack.
“Whoa!” Gideon held his hands high. “Call off the attack, Strawberry. I’ve come to rescue you.”
She leveled a glare at him. She hoped it was as powerful as the one her mother always gave her. “If you wanted to rescue me, you should have been here three minutes ago.”
He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Hey, if you want me to go…” His words trailed off as he sauntered away.
“No! Gideon!”
He grinned at her over his shoulder, and she could have kicked him. She might have just as easily kissed him. He looked like a naughty boy when he gave her that smile.
“I need you to take Jemma home.”
His gaze dropped to the child, and then he glanced over his shoulder like a man being followed. The man who’d taken Jemma and the men at Stryker’s flash ken had mentioned a Beetle.
No, that wasn’t it.
Beezle.
She didn’t know what sort of name Beezle was, but she was willing to wager he was the man Gideon feared seeing over his shoulder.
“Let’s go, then.” Gideon gave a mock bow to the small crowd that had gathered. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.” He held out an arm, and Susanna took it. She didn’t particularly want to allow him to escort her, but under the circumstances, it seemed the wisest course of action. She held out an arm to Jemma, who slipped her small hand around two of Susanna’s fingers. Beauty gave a final warning growl and pranced after them.
