by Vella, Wendy
Their footsteps and the clip of Walter’s nails were the only sounds as they walked. She knew he listened, remained alert. His body tensed as four men stepped out of the shadows.
“Stay at my back,” he said softly, forcing her there.
“I bloody well will not!” Dimity stepped back to his side and placed a hand on Walter’s head. The dog was growling softly.
“For once will you listen, woman.” He hissed the words at her, a hand clamping on her arm as he attempted to force her behind him once more.
She wouldn’t be moved.
“Well now, hello, Miss Brown. I see you’ve found yourself a high-priced client. An earl to spread your legs for.”
“Continue to speak to Miss Brown in that manner and I will make you very sorry,” Lord Raine said. His tone sent chills through Dimity.
“Begging your pardon, my Lord,” Clancy gave an insulting bow that had her wanting to slap him.
“Clancy, you leave now,” Dimity said, trying not to show the fear that was gripping her.
“How is it you know I am an earl?” Lord Raine said, and to Dimity’s mind it mattered not how they knew, only that they did.
He could be carrying more money than what he’d tried to give Dimity. They’d take it from him, and anything else of value, then leave him bloody and bruised.
How would they cope with four men? She would fight and knew how to use her fists, but surely they had no hope against these men. All were solid, men who lived their lives on these streets and knew how to fight dirty.
“I just do.” Clancy’s eyes shot left. “I have a fancy for you, Dimity, but I’ve even more of a fancy for what is in that gentleman’s pockets. Isn’t that right, lads?”
The lads all agreed.
“Give him everything, then we run,” Dimity whispered.
“We will not be running anywhere,” Lord Raine said calmly. Far too calmly. What was wrong with the man? These men would tear him apart. “I need room, Dimity. Stand back.”
“What? Room for what? These men want to kill you,” she hissed.
His eyes touched hers briefly before returning to the men, who were forming a half circle around them.
“Have some faith in me, Miss Brown.” He dropped her bag and shrugged out of his jacket. “Hold this.” He thrust it at her. “Move back.”
Clutching the jacket, Walter, and her bag, she found herself obeying him. She’d place it all on the ground and find a piece of wood or something to defend him with.
“Well now, I am surprised,” Clancy said, moving closer. He raised his fists. “A nobleman who is not turning tail and running.”
“I never run from bullies or cowards.” Lord Raine crouched slightly, then lifted his hands before him, but not in preparation to throw a punch.
“Clench them in fists,” Dimity hissed.
“Oh, this is going to be fun, gents,” Clancy said to his friends. “He doesn’t even know how to fight. What’s the problem here, my lord? They not teach that at Eton?”
“Harrow, actually,” Gabriel Deville said, and Dimity couldn’t be sure as it was dark, but thought he was smiling. The man had clearly lost his wits.
“Get your fists up, my lord!”
“It will be all right now,” he said to her. Reassuring her, when surely it was he who was about to be beaten and bloodied. She felt ill.
“I’ll be taking you home tonight, Dimity,” Clancy taunted.
“I’d rather sleep with a rodent,” she snapped tightening her grip on Walter who was straining to get free.
“He won’t be touching you.” Lord Raine’s voice was hard now.
Then no more words were uttered. Clancy ran at him, and Dimity swallowed down her scream in case it distracted him. Lord Raine did what looked to be a turn in the air and kicked him hard in the jaw. Clancy fell like a tree. Next came the others, and Dimity held her breath, but only in awe as Gabriel Deville dispatched each with a series of movements. Each was elegant, using his hands and feet, and she’d never seen anything like it before.
In what seemed like a matter of minutes, all the men were lying on the ground moaning.
“Let us leave before they wake or others arrive,” Lord Raine said. He wasn’t even breathless.
“B-But what just happened?”
“I fought and won.” He shrugged into his jacket, took her bag. He then clamped a hand around her wrist and walked; she could do nothing but follow.
“I don’t understand what just happened.” She strained to look back over her shoulder at the men who were attempting to regain their feet.
“I fought, and won,” he repeated. “Come along now, don’t tarry.”
“Who taught you to fight that way?”
He didn’t answer her.
His carriage waited, the driver, Toddy, acknowledging her with a nod. They knew each other, as she did all the staff in Lord Raine’s household. Her humiliation rose again, as now everyone would know that she had been found in such a place.
Lord Raine opened the carriage, and before he could stop him, Walter had climbed inside.
“Manners suggest the woman goes first, Walter. In you get.” He motioned Dimity to follow her dog.
“Can I ask you again to drop me at a boarding house, my lord?” She didn’t want to go to his house. Memories of happier times waited for her there. “Please. It is the right thing to do.”
“Right for whom?” He was close to her now, those eyes boring into hers.
“For all concerned.”
“How about for tonight you come with me, and tomorrow we discuss you finding lodgings? It is late, and I doubt anyone would wish to be roused, especially a future landlord, at such an hour. Plus, there is Walter to consider. Not all lodgings will take him in.”
“Very well.” Dimity sat in the carriage, back straight. She would survive this, as she would survive the pain of not knowing who she was, because that letter from her father’s sister, the woman she’d believed was her aunt, had said quite clearly, “you are to be commended, brother, for taking a child who is not your own into your household. God will look kindly on you and the girl.” She had to be that girl. Dimity felt adrift suddenly, even more so than when her brother had cast her out of her home
The first tear fell as the carriage started moving.
Chapter Five
He watched her as the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. Her shoulders were back, hands clenched in her lap. Heat settled in Gabe’s chest as she wept. He wanted to reach for her, pick her up and settle her on his lap. Instead, he took out another blanket and tucked it around her. Then handed her his handkerchief.
“Th-thank you.” She took it, pressing the cloth to her eyes. “I-I am grateful for what you’ve done this night for me, Walter, and Mrs. Beadle. Even if I don’t appear to appreciate it.”
“I understand pride, Dimity, as I believe I told you.”
“Will you tell me where you learned to fight that way?” Her eyes were red, hair down and tangled. She looked so sweet, he sat on his hands to stop from touching her.
“That is an incredibly long story, and tonight is not the night to hear it. Now will you tell me what’s going on, Dimity?”
Gabe watched one of her hands reach for the locket she wore. He’d seen it many times. Gold, the front had an intricate engraving. He’d never gotten close enough to see the detail clearly.
“There is nothing to tell.”
“I am no fool, Dimity. You lived with your father and brother when you taught my sister piano. She never mentioned your life was a struggle. Then I visit your home and a young boy tells me your brother tried to sell you, then threw you out of your own house.”
“Liam.” She sniffed. “It would have been he who talked to you.”
He nodded but remained silent.
“My f-father was a good man, my lord. My brother isn’t.”
He was sure there was a great deal more to her story, but he did not push.
Gabe watched her eyes close. The tears h
ad stopped, thankfully, because they hurt his chest. Even pale and exhausted, Dimity was an incredibly beautiful woman. Gabe left her alone with her thoughts; tomorrow would be soon enough to question her further. When she had a full belly and after a good night’s sleep.
What the hell was her story? Fiery and determined Dimity Brown. How had she come to this? Prostitution. The thought of a man lying with her made him want to punch something.
As the carriage rolled to a stop, her eyes opened, telling him she had not slept, simply wanted no further conversation with him.
“Come.” He climbed down, then held out a hand to take hers. Walter dove past her, knocking Dimity off her feet and into his arms.
Gabe held her briefly before releasing her and settling her back on her feet.
“Forgive me, my lord. Walter is not…. Well, he has no—”
“Manners?”
“I have been attempting to teach him some, but I fear he was not raised with any.”
“He sounds like my brothers.”
She giggled. The sound was so surprising considering her state, he responded with a smile of his own.
“Let’s get inside. It’s cold out here, and the hour advancing.”
Taking her arm with one hand, he held her bag with the other, and they followed Walter to the front door of the Deville family townhouse.
Gabe knew he was a lucky man. Knew his wealth and properties were enviable. He rarely went without. Looking at the large stone facade, he felt that small tug of sadness he always experienced when he realized Abby was not inside.
“I am still not used to it,” he said softly. “I expect to see my sister inside.”
“She is happy.”
“I know that, but I miss her, Dimity.”
“As do I.”
Gabe opened the door, as it was likely his butler was not awaiting his return.
“I-I must thank you again for what you did this evening, Lord Raine,” Dimity said when they stood in the front entrance of his town house. Lamplight showed him the shadows under her eyes and fatigue in every line of her body. Dimity Brown was close to collapsing. Her pride would likely never allow that, but he could see she was at the end of her tether.
“Loath as you are to do so,” Gabe drawled.
Her mouth drew into a thin line. “I can be grateful to you for this.”
“It was my pleasure to help you, Dimity.”
She attempted to sink into a curtsey, but he wouldn’t release her.
“Good evening, Lord Raine. I will retire to the servants’ quarters now, and you need worry for me no more.”
“You don’t know if there are any free beds.”
“The floor will do. I know the maids, and they will not mind me sleeping there.”
“And what of Walter?”
They both watched the dog, who had his nose on the ground and was moving around the front entrance, sniffing every inch.
“I will take him to the stables.”
“Do you even know where they are?”
He had her there, because she hesitated.
“Tonight you will stay in Abby’s old room. Walter can sleep in there with you if he will do so without tearing the place apart or doing things he should not.” The dog stopped sniffing long enough to send him a steady look, almost as if he’d known he was being discussed.
“I could never sleep in Abby’s room!” Shocked, she pulled free of his grip.
“She no longer lives here, the room is empty, so why not?”
“Because I am a servant!” Some of her fire was back now.
“And?”
“And it is not done for me to sleep in such a room.”
“Where is that written?”
Her mouth opened then closed again while she thought about how to answer that. “In the servants’ handbook,” she finally snapped out.
He narrowed his eyes. “Is there actually such a thing?”
Once again her shoulders drew back as she looked at him.
“It matters not. What matters is that I am going to find a place to sleep.” She turned from him and began to walk away.
If he let her do that, he had a feeling she’d be gone in the morning, and this time he would not be able to find her. He didn’t want that. Dimity alone out there with no money, position, or roof over her head. No, that would not be happening.
Following, he grabbed her from behind, then lifted her into his arms.
“Wh-What are you doing?”
“I’m done with discussing this. You are staying here, sleeping in Abby’s room, and the rest we will discuss in the morning. Come, Walter.”
“Put me down at once!”
He didn’t, instead taking the stairs up.
“You can’t do this! Can’t carry me up these steps.”
“Stop shrieking in my ear; you will deafen me.”
“I-I,” she spluttered. “Someone will see!”
“If you keep shrieking, they certainly will.”
“Put me down at once,” she hissed. “Your back—”
“You weigh very little.”
“I weigh a great deal.”
She was slender and, to his mind, had lost a lot of weight. Lack of food, he supposed, and the thought made him angry again. He would find her brother and have a chat with him.
“You are skinny,” he said to annoy her.
Gabe kept walking until he reached Abby’s room. He didn’t go in there often, simply because every time he did, he saw her, his little sister. He knew she was happy, as Dimity had said. Her husband was a good man, but still, she was his sister, and he’d cared for her for years. He missed that, her.
Opening the door, he walked inside.
“Put me down now!”
He did, fighting back the moan as she slid down his body. The woman tempted him, there was no getting around that fact.
“You will sleep here, Dimity. I will have water for washing and food brought. I would ask you to stay here until morning, then we will talk.”
“I do not want to stay here.” Her eyes went to the bed.
“One night is all I ask of you. If not for you, then think of Walter. He is likely tired and hungry. Arguing is prolonging his wait for a meal.”
The dog sat and tilted his head slightly, studying them.
“Promise me you will be here in the morning, Dimity.”
Her eyes returned to his.
“I know that if you give me your word, you will keep it,” Gabe added.
“How do you know that?”
“My sister told me you were one of the most honorable people she knows.”
“Oh.” She pressed a fist to her mouth to stop more tears. “Very well, I give you my word.”
“Good girl.” Gabe patted Walter’s head.
“Can I please have my gun back. It is precious to me as I do not have many things that belonged to my father.”
“Because your brother has them?”
She nodded
“If you promise not to use it I will give it back.”
“I can shoot it, he taught me.” Her chin raised daring him to deny her.
“Very well.” He took it out of his pocket and handed it to her. He then left before he hauled her into his arms and held her until she was strong again. His butler caught up with him in the hallway.
“Fairfax, have food and washing water brought to my sister’s room. Miss Brown is to stay there tonight. She has a large hound with her also that will need nourishment.”
His butler never blinked.
“At once, my lord.”
Making his way along the halls, he looked in rooms but saw no sign of his brothers. Finally he tracked one down in the library. Of the four Deville sons, this was the gentlest. They could all be fiery upon occasion, irrational, and irresponsible, but it was Michael who could be calm in the midst of a storm. The peacemaker of the family.
“Who won?” Gabe wandered in and poured himself a brandy from the decanter on the side table.
; “Me, actually. Nathan became irrationally angry when I first beat him, which meant I only had to annoy him some more for him to lose the ability to concentrate.”
Gabe laughed; he could imagine that. Nathanial was the fiercest of them all.
“Where have you been? All you said was you had an errand to run before you left,” Michael asked him. “And why is there a bruise on your cheek? Surely you of all people should know how to win in a fight?”
“Abby sent me a letter,” Gabe said after a mouthful of brandy. He enjoyed the warmth as it traveled down his body. “She is worried about Miss Brown, and it was her I went to find.”
“Ah, the fiery piano teacher who always got under your skin,” Michael said. “That still does not explain the bruise.”
Each of the brothers had the same look made up in different ways. Michael was his equal in height and build, but with blue eyes and brown hair.
“She does not get under my skin. I just find her…” His words fell away when he failed to come up with the right ones to describe how he felt about Dimity Brown.
“Uncomfortable? Disturbing?” Michael prompted. “A bit like when you have a pebble in your shoe?”
“Neither. Now be quiet and listen.”
“My ears are, as always, yours.”
“Abby said Dimity had not written to her as promised, and she grew worried with her silence. She commissioned me to go and find her and see if all was well.”
“And?” Michael asked.
Gabe told his brother how the night had unfolded, leaving nothing out. When he was done, Michael whistled.
“You found her on the bar dancing with her chest exposed?”
“Out of all I’ve told you, that is the question you ask me?” Gabe shook his head, trying to dislodge the image of the beautiful Dimity’s heaving breasts.
“Miss Brown is a lovely woman,” Michael said slowly, “as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Gabe said nothing. She was beautiful, disturbing, and a mouthy woman—among other things.
“And you got her out of that place, which is where you received that bruise. You showed her how you fought, Gabe? Was that wise?”
“I needed to defend both of us, Michael. To do that in the quickest and most efficient way, I needed to fight.”
