Page 42 of Tempting the Scoundrel
“It’s out of the question.”
“Someone paid a man to abduct me from my own bedchamber,” Alex said as she stomped about her room. “He’s now responsible for the murder of three people. What am I supposed to do? Toil away in my bedchamber? Worry after you all night?”
She’d worry? Thorne came to the connecting door. “You’d—” He sucked in a breath at the chaos within. “What happened in here?”
Alexandra looked offended. “Happened? Nothing happened.” She gestured to the piles of paper all over the bloody place. “This is what work looks like.”
“That’s not what my office looks like.”
“This is whatmywork looks like.” She buttoned up her coat and pushed past him. “Don’t change the subject. I’m coming with you.”
Thorne blocked her exit. “You don’t need to see this.”
“Nicholas Thorne,” she said, tapping her foot, “you seem to be under the ludicrous impression that I’m asking for your permission. I assure you, I am not. Now step aside or I will bodily remove you.”
With a muttered oath, Thorne yanked open the door. Alexandra swept past him and together, they hurried down the hall to the back stairs of the Brimstone.
O’Sullivan eyed Alex as they approached. “I wasn’t aware her ladyship was coming.”
“Is viewing a corpse some kind of masculine bonding activity? Does it have a sign over it saying No Women Allowed to See the Dead Body?”
O’Sullivan seemed to mentally debate this. “Solid point.”
“Mr. O’Sullivan, you”—she flashed her teeth—“are not an idiot. Congratulations.” She shoved past him out the door.
O’Sullivan looked over at Thorne. “What just happened?”
“You agreed with her, you fucking fool. Now she likes you.”
“Oh,” O’Sullivan said. “Shit.”
* * *
The Nichol brought back somany memories for Thorne. He recalled running through these winding alleyways, picking pockets, doing worse. The East End wasn’t easy; you had to have a bit of hardness to endure the life it gave you.
It was strange, how a place could hold such joy and sorrow for him in equal measure. Some memories—like those of his ma bringing home sweets when she could spare the blunt—were lights in his otherwise dark past. Others still haunted him. Like the fear after his ma died. Or the stomach churning hunger that made him so desperate for food and shelter that he took it where he found it. He knew every labyrinthine turn, every nook, every cranny. He’d slept in them all, once or twice, when things got difficult.
Back then, the East End had been in worse condition: filthier, the buildings unsafe and crowded. It still wasn’t a pretty place; the Nichol, though, got a sight better since he’d gained control over the vestry. Not by sitting on the board, of course, but in the way he knew best: bribery, intimidation, violence—if necessary. They weren’t kind things, no, but Nicholas Thorne couldn’t afford to be kind to some men. So he put the fear in them.
Thorne glanced at Alex, wondering about the thoughts behind her calm expression. Was she disgusted? Did she inhale the stink and wish she were back in St. James’s?
But no. She didn’t seem fazed by the ramshackle buildings, by the filthy drunk who leered at her as she passed. Thorne couldn’t blame the bloke; she was beautiful, determined, her strides purposeful. She stood out like a rose in the gloom.
“Ho there!” O’Sullivan called out as they neared the group of lads cloistered around a prone body hidden in the darkness. Flickering gaslights nearby cast long shadows down the wet, gleaming street.
“Mr. O’Sullivan!” The littlest one ran over and tackled O’Sullivan’s legs.
O’Sullivan clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Thomas? What are you doing out here, lad? You ought to be home with your ma.”
“Tommy insisted on it, ‘e did,” came another voice. George, one of the older lads, walked over and touched his cap to greet Thorne. “Nasty bit o’ work ower there, Mr. Thorne.”
Thorne put a restraining hand on Alex’s arm to keep her from investigating. “You see anyone around this way, George?”
“Nah. Empty by th’ time I got ‘ere. That bloke were cold a while.” He eyed Alexandra in interest. George was, after all, sixteen. Just learning how ladies worked, and Alex was a hard one to miss. “Pretty piece. Heard you had a woman up at the Brimstone, but I thought Fi and Lottie were tellin’ tales again.”
“Never say you saw her,” Thorne said. He pulled some coins from his pocket. “Take these. Get Thomas and the other lads some supper. And the rest to your ma. Don’t even be thinking of spending it on a woman, or I’ll have your hide if I hear of it.”
George laughed, taking the coins. “Aye, sir.”
