Page 66 of What's an Earl Gotta Do?
She reached one end of the room and spun on her heel. “They say they have information regarding the ‘rot’ at the R.M.A. Of course I’m considering it.”
“Anne,” Michael fumed, “they just pulled someone’s body out of the Thames! It could be a trap.”
“Obviously. But it could also be legitimate. Besides, why would they want to harm me?”
“Because you’re investigating them.”
“Bow Street are the ones investigating them, and they already have every piece of information I do. I can see the value of eliminating a witness. It’s why they killed Mr. Smithers, and why Nick and Johnny are in so much danger. But what impact would harming me have, other than bringing all of Bow Street down upon their heads?”
“Yes, well, where is this… Red Lion Inn?” Michael asked, consulting the note.
“Holborn,” Anne said as she paced past him. “Not far from Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Let’s see, I should probably go by hackney carriage…”
“Holborn?” Michael said. “That alone should be enough to dissuade you. You have no business being in Holborn at midnight.”
“It’s not far from my lodging house,” Anne countered, “and in a very similar neighborhood.”
“Which brings me to my next point. Your lodging house is in an unsuitable district.”
Anne narrowed her eyes. “It will come as a great shock, but charity lodging houses are not generally found on Grosvenor Square.”
“Your lodging house is in St Giles,” he snapped. “St Giles is a rookery!”
“This from the man with whom I used to have all of my best adventures.” Anne looked him up and down. “When did you turn into such a stick?”
His mouth fell open. “Did you just call me a stick?”
She cocked up her chin. “I believe I just did. And what right do you have to criticize? Aren’t you the one who’s been squaring off with angry bears in Canada?”
“It is a different matter entirely for me to do something risky—”
Anne felt her eyebrow give a violent twitch, and Michael froze midsentence, studying her face. He seemed to (correctly) sense that he needed to abandon that particular argument.
“Anne,” he started again, “I just care about you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Surely that’s not so hard to understand.”
She waved this off. “Your concern is misplaced. The neighborhood is not so bad as you suppose, and I never go there without at least two of my footmen.”
“Which is better than nothing, especially if all of your footmen resemble the brute squad who threw me out this morning. Good God, Anne, where do you find such men?”
Anne decided to consider this a rhetorical question, on account of the fact that Michael would not like the answer. The types of men who made the worst criminals in St Giles hesitate didn’t come with unblemished records. “I’ve gone there every day for the last four years, and nothing bad has ever happened.”
“Well, that’s going to change once we’re married.”
Anne rounded on him, hands on her hips. “If we’re married.”.
“When we’re married,” Michael insisted, looming over her and giving her his full Obstinate Face. “If you think I’m going to let you go traipsing about St Giles—”
“And if you think I’m going to tolerate you barking orders at me, treating me like a child—”
“Christ, woman! I’m just trying to protect you!”
Anne felt something snap inside of her. “Well, I don’t want your protection! What I want is your respect!”
Michael felt as though he had just been slapped. They’d been shouting seconds ago, but his voice when it emerged was quiet. “How can you even say that, Anne? I respect you. I respect you more than any other person on the face of this earth.”
Her voice shook. “You have a funny way of showing it. I expect my future husband to support me in my charity work, not limit me. If you are unwilling to do that, then there is no possibility of us marrying.”
These words caused a familiar red haze to settle over Michael’s brain, obscuring any attempt at rational thought. He knew this was the exact opposite of what he needed right now. He took a slow breath before replying. “I intend to support you in your charity work by helping you stay alive to do it. And that means preventing you from going to Holborn at midnight, into what is almost certainly a trap.”
