Page 71 of When a Marquis Chooses a Bride
Chest heaving, Dom stood in the center of the last chamber. “We need more carriages.”
“Where are we going to take them?”
“Someplace where they can recover from the drug.” Lady Merton stood in the doorway covering her nose and mouth.
The energy that had driven Dotty began to fade, and the terror of what they had found struck her. Tears of rage stung her eyes. “I have never seen anything so evil.”
Heedless of his mother’s presence, Dom wrapped his arms around her. “You are distressed. Perhaps you should confine yourself to rescuing animals.”
Although the words were pompous, and condescending, she thought she heard a hopeful note in his voice. He had probably never even imagined places like this existed. And as hard as this was to see, once she was Lady Merton, she would have the resources to do even more good than she’d done before. “No. This is just the beginning. I shall request a meeting with Lady Evesham and some of the other ladies. We shall find where the need is most pressing.” Dotty leaned back, peering into Dom’s face. “You won’t try to stop me, will you?”
He pulled her back against his chest, and in a resigned voice, answered, “I wonder if I have a choice.”
Yet he did. He would have the ability to attempt to curtail her actions. She had known he’d never been involved with charitable causes before, but surely he must now see the need. Yet what if he did not? How would that affect their future and their hope of finding love?
Chapter Seventeen
Suddenly, the sounds of groans, fisticuffs, furniture breaking, and a few feminine shrieks echoed up from downstairs. What the devil were Worthington and Horton doing down there?
Dom set Thea aside and pulled out his pistol as boots pounded up the stairs. Worthington erupted into the corridor.
Putting the gun back in his coat, Dom took stock of his cousin. Worthington’s normally neatly tied cravat was crumpled and askew. The knuckles of one hand were bruised, and a red mark, which was certain to change color, marred his jawline. “Been having fun?”
A gleam entered Worthington’s eyes. “You could say that. Miss Betsy’s men are subdued, and we have the other women in the drawing room.” He bowed to Dom’s mother. “Grace asks you join her there to speak to the women.”
“I would be delighted.” Despite everything, Mama smiled. “Although the circumstances here are horrific, I have not felt so alive and useful in years.”
Dom stifled a groan. His life was never going to be the same. “We need to figure out what to do with the females up here. They’ve all been drugged.”
Worthington’s grin grew larger. “I wondered why you were kicking out all the windows. Not your usual pastime.”
Dom tried and failed to achieve a level of haughtiness necessary to depress his cousin’s good humor. Truth be told, he hadn’t had such a good time since he was a young boy.
“They were nailed shut.” Dotty smiled up at him, emerald eyes glittering with pride. “He was magnificent.”
The urge to puff his chest out came over him. He hadn’t expected praise for acting like a bruiser. The way Thea was looking at him warmed his heart and other regions of his body as well. He held her against him. “Thank you.” He glanced at his cousin again. “Does Major Horton look any better than you?”
“No, slightly worse. He got a vase smashed over his head.”
“Oh no.” Dotty’s hand flew to her lips. “The poor major. I hope he had enough fun that it will make up for the lump that’s sure to be on his head.”
What an appalling thing to say. “Thea!”
She turned a wide gaze on him. “Papa says men like to get into a tussle every once in a while. Do you not?”
Dom was about to deny he enjoyed any such thing, but it would be a lie. Why else did he go to Jackson’s Salon? Still, it could not continue. He’d so far forgotten himself as to bring his mother and his innocent Thea to a brothel. This could never happen again. He had to remember his duty.
“I completely agree with Thea,” his mother said. “Your behavior here reminds me of your father.”
He stared at her for a moment and was about to ask what she meant, but a low moan made him glance at the pitiful female huddled on the cot. “We need to find a place for these women.”
Thea pressed her lips together. “First we must find them something to wear. They cannot leave dressed only in a chemise.”
This room, like the others, was bare, except for a cot, chair, and chamber pot. “Not even a wardrobe.”
“We should get them something to eat as well. Let’s find the kitchen. The women will be safe enough here until we return. Matt, please make sure none of the Runners comes up here.”
He saluted her and she followed Dom down the stairs. The parlor they’d been in before was in chaos. Miss Betsy’s hands were tied behind her back and her thin gown torn in places. A shawl hung over her shoulders hiding her breasts from view. The maid who had served them wine huddled in a corner, cringing.
