Page 25 of The Lady
He had not taken more than two steps when figures melted out of the shadows of the crates surrounding them.
“Halt!” An official-looking man, well dressed and impeccably turned out, held out his hand toward them. Delilah did not recognize him, but she certainly recognized his type. This was a gentleman, possibly even a nobleman, and very likely the man in charge. Beside him was another man, looking very out of place and very familiar. His rough features and leering grin had terrified her the first time she’d seen them.
“Roddy,” Frank snarled, angling himself in front of her to protect her, but he was vastly outnumbered. “The Tramp’ll kill ya.”
Peeking around Frank’s arm, she saw Roddy shrug.
“Mebbe. If ‘e finds me. Ten thousand pounds can take me a long way.”
“Indeed,” said the first man who had spoken, with a glance full of distaste for Roddy. He cocked his head at Frank. “Give us the, ah, young woman, and we’ll let you go along peaceably.”
“Bugger off. Run, Lady!” Frank half-turned, grabbing her arm and dragging her along with him as he ran at one of the men on their left.
Barreling into the man, he shoved Delilah forward, giving her the chance to escape while he grappled with the Runner. Even knowing there was nothing she could do, bitter tears slid from Delilah’s eyes as she fled in the direction he’d sent her, knowing he was sacrificing himself for her. The Tramp had not lied—Frank was protecting her with his life.
And it was still for naught.
She screamed when an iron arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her from her feet. She screamed, kicked, and struggled, to no avail.
* * *
The Tramp
It took morethan money to rid himself of the Runners who had invaded the hell. Henry and his staff were just as good, if not better, fighters, and more than one stumbled back out the front door with a cracked noggin or clutching his gut. Careful not to kill because that would only bring more of the bastards down on him, Henry had no compunction about adding extra injuries to those who were paid tostay the hell away.
Once they were ejected, he invited the leader to come in and search for the woman they’d been informed was on the premises. Just the leader. Henry had to give the man some credit for his bravery; he paled but came in any way and did a thorough search, including taking a gander at all the tarts. They all laughed uproariously when they found out he was looking to see if any of them was a missing debutante.
Not one member of his household gave away that they might very well know where the missing lady was.
The noblemen on the floor were all too happy to confirm they had seen neither hide nor hair of any debutante in the past few days—the thought was ludicrous. They’d all heard of the runaway Miss Delilah Darling and scoffed at the idea she might have ended up in the hell.
“I’ve danced with her myself,” Lord Crosby said, shaking his head. “I would surely have noticed if I had come across her in the Warren. Mark my words, that dragon she’s been staying with, she’s done something to her. The lady was sick and away from events for days before she ran off.”
Henry would have laughed if the situation not been so dire. Lady Felton had surely miscalculated when she’d covered up Delilah’s initial disappearance. It did not even occur to the man, Delilah might have run away before it had been reported, and he had certainly seen her since. The confusion over the timing had only made things easier for Henry and harder for Lady Felton.
Still, he added the time it took to be rid of the runners and the damage to several of his tables during the fight to Lady Felton’s bill. The old hag was going to pay for it, one way or another.
By the time the runners were sent on their way and the floor slowly began to return to some sense of normalcy, Henry was itching to get back to his pet, to run his hands over her and soothe the stress he knew she must be experiencing. Spanking her might do both of them some good. Unfortunately, he did not feel he could leave the hell, not so soon after the Runners had breached its walls. His patrons needed to see him in his usual spot, exuding calm and normalcy. It chafed, but he had to send Butch instead.
But when Butch returned, pale and shiny with sweat, to report Frank had been taken in by the Runners along with Delilah, and Rowdy Roddy was responsible for all of it, Henry found he no longer cared about what his patrons thought. They could bloody well do without him.
He had a lady to fetch.
* * *
The Lady
No more tail,no more coat, and wearing a borrowed dress, Delilah pressed her hands together in her lap and did her best not to weep.
Mr. Fielding, the leader of the Runners who had ‘rescued’ her, stared at her from across his desk, the expression on his face contemplative. He’d been looking at her like that since he’d brought her to Bow Street and let her have the room to dress. She had tried to leave the tail in at first, but he’d sent her back to remove it when he realized she had not. The experience had been far more humiliating than any she’d had at Henry’s hands, yet Mr. Fielding made it clear he did not understand her lack of gratitude. Drumming his fingers on his desk, he continued to stare at her.
Perhaps he meant to wear her down until she said something to him, but Delilah had days of being stared at while she was naked and weeks of being mostly silent before that.
Sharp rapping on the door made her flinch, and Mr. Fielding’s eyes sharpened, but he did not speak. Instead, he got up and moved around her to answer the door.
“Well?” Lady Felton’s piercing voice made Delilah wince again, and she closed her eyes, gulping hard. She very much wanted this to be a nightmare from which she’d soon wake. “Is she here?”
“I believe she is here, yes, my lady,” said Mr. Fielding in a careful tone. It was clear he did not want to claim a job done without verification. “If you could step this way to identify the lady?”
