Earl of Sussex (Wicked Lords of London 0.50) - Page 16

Coventry’s eyes lit with appreciation and interest as he leaned forward in his chair. “Clever girl, pushing you away. What was her plan?”

“How do you even know that she would have a plan?” Luke leaned forward too. Coventry was like family to him, but it was odd that the man knew so much about Tabbie. And yet, he had never spoken of her.

Coventry sat back then. “When she managed to open her shelter, despite a great deal of dissent from a fair number of lords, I knew she would make an excellent match for one of my errant earls. The question was which one. Which man would like a girl with spirit and brains, and fiery auburn hair to match her vivacious approach to life?”

His friend, and leader of the Wicked Earls’ Club, was a matchmaker? Luke couldn’t process the words because another detail had clicked in his mind. His little schemer with her fiery auburn hair. She wouldn’t have made a wild plan to follow him, say to the Wicked Earls’ Club to see what he was doing?

Fear made his heart stutter as he stood from his chair, knocking the heavy piece of furniture to the ground. “Grab some men and pistols,” he nearly shouted as he shot back out the door and down the hall.

Blast… Luke had disappeared behind a locked door. She’d heard the bolt click back into place. She followed him for near a mile, her feet were positively aching. And it was for naught. Anything could be behind that door.

“Tabbie, I think we should go home.” Tricia’s voice shook as she finally caught up wither sister. She wasn’t as adept at subterfuge and had lagged behind so as not to give them away. “Mother thinks we are shopping for ribbon and I don’t think this the best place for us—”

“Give me a moment,” Tabbie shushed her sister. “There must be a way inside.”

“We can’t go inside,” Tricia hissed.

Tabbie patted her on the arm. “Not you, just me. You can act as lookout.” Glancing down the street, she noticed an alley between this building and the next. “Maybe there is a back way in.”

Standing, she shook out her skirts and stepped down onto the sidewalk. Tricia sat on the steps, looking forlornly toward the park from where they had come. Clearly her sister wanted to return.

Tabbie was about to chastise her sister’s sense of adventure when she noticed three men across the street silently assessing her. Perhaps she had dismissed Tricia too easily.

Their clothes were worn, faces unshaved, hats pulled low. Nothing about them spoke of respectability or even decency.

The corner of her mouth pulled down into a frown. She’d come all this way, she hated to give up now, but it didn’t seem like the best idea to traipse down a dark alley with ruffians looking on. “Or perhaps we should come back another time.”

“Thank the saints,” Tricia exhaled, giving her a large smile. Tabbie’s eyes flitted over Tricia. At sixteen she was growing into a lovely woman, who was a great deal more demure than her older sister. Tricia would find husband hunting quite easy. But in a situation like this, Tricia was at more risk. She didn’t have a sharp tongue and bravado to fall back on. Tabbie shouldn’t have brought her here.

Movement from the men on the other side of the street caught her eye as they began crossing toward them. For a split second she wondered what to do. Pound on the door behind her or make a hasty retreat the way she had come. Their eyes locked on her, they were closing the distance between them quickly.

“Bang on the door,” Tabbie hissed to Tricia.

“We can’t do that, we followed him--” Tricia started but she stopped as she turned and caught sight of the ruffians. Gathering up her skirts, Tricia raced up the stairs and started banging on the door.

Tabbie squared her shoulders, not sure how she would defend her sister against these men, but she knew she had to try.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.” One of the men leered at her as they all approached. He was tall and thin, his clothing stained.

Her skin crawled but she lifted her chin. “I can assure you, sir, my friend will be joining us momentarily.” She forced her voice to be steady despite the fear building within her chest.

Another cackled. Her shoulders drooped just a little but she squared them back up. Tricia was still pounding on the door.

“Of course ‘e is,” another called. “But in the meantime, you ladies can take off yer jewels and yer reticules.”

The leering one let his eyes wander down her. “And mayhap we’ll continue this conversation more private, like in the alley.”

Tabbie couldn’t help herself, she stepped back then. Her heels bumping into the wrought iron fence edging the beds in the front of the building. “Never,” she tried to say with confidence but it came out as a whisper. Her fingers came to the base of her neck. This wasn’t going to end well.

The leering one grabbed her arm while another attempted to wrest her reticule from her clenched fist.

“Grab the other one,” the man yanking on her arm commanded as he gave her a firm tug.

“No,” she gasped, pulling back, still holding tight to her reticule.

He leaned in, his breath as foul as the stains on his shirt. His lips curling into a malicious smile that made her more afraid than when he’d grabbed her. “Oh, we’ll have ye bo—”

His words stopped abruptly as a fist bashed into his teeth. Suddenly she was spinning around a large body, firm hands lifting her in the air. She landed on the stairs, still standing, as Luke threw two more punches, knocking another man to the ground.

Tags: Tammy Andresen Wicked Lords of London Historical
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