Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress (The Husband Hunters Club 5)

“Jackson and Sally Jakes?” Gareth repeated. He looked angry, a flush in his cheeks and his eyes glittering, and for the first time Rufus could see in him a similarity to Averil.

“She owns a number of houses of ill repute, as well as The Tin Soldier,” Rufus went on.

“I’ll call in the police,” Gareth said, and stood up, his hands clenched.

Rufus smiled without humor. “She probably has any number of them in her pay, but I can give you a name you can trust.” He proceeded to give Gareth the name of one of the officers he’d worked closely with during his days with the Guardians.

Gareth went out of the door but returned a moment later looking troubled. “Averil was here not long ago,” he said. “She was worried about Violet. Now both of them seem to have disappeared. Mrs. Claxton says she saw Violet leaving through the back, and then Averil following her. She says she heard Violet say earlier, to Molly, that she was going to The Tin Soldier. Do you think . . .?”

Rufus jumped up. Violet, who knew more than she would say, and Averil, who was always trying to save people. He felt a hollow in his chest, a warning of danger that he had long ago learned never to ignore.

“Would Averil go to The Tin Soldier on her own?” he asked sharply, and then thought how stupid the question was. Of course she would.

“I don’t know. If she thought Violet was in danger she might. Averil is rather impulsive, Lord Southbrook, as you’re probably aware.”

Rufus was already at the door. “Call on my policeman, and I’ll go and look for Averil. And hurry!”

They were all there, the three of them, faces blank with shock as they turned toward her. Jackson was the first to recover. He gave a gruff chuckle and rose up from his chair. Beside him, Violet shrank in on herself, her eyes dropping to the floor and her pale hair falling over her face as if she wanted to hide behind it. Sally was the calmest, merely raising her eyebrows, and saying, “This is a private room, Lady Averil. It’s manners to make an appointment.”

“I’ve come for Violet,” she said in her firmest voice, as if she expected nothing but obedience. “I need her at the Home immediately.”

“She’s not yours to order about,” Sally snapped. “This is ’er ’ome, right ’ere. Just as it was your mother’s ’ome. You might come in ’ere with your ’oity-toity ways, but I know different, don’t I? You’re no better than me, Lady Averil, because your mother was no better than me. Got to the point that she’d do anything for a coin or two, Anna would.”

Averil felt a sharp stab of pain in her heart at the picture this conjured up of her mother’s desperation.

Sally seemed to know it and gave a satisfied smile.

“Leave her alone.” Suddenly Violet was coming to her defense, placing herself between her mother and Averil. “She hasn’t done nothing to you. She’s my friend,” she blurted out, losing some of her carefully learned vocabulary.

Sally’s mouth tightened. “Go downstairs, Violet,” she said in an impatient voice. “Put some of your ladylike ways to good use.”

“No.” Violet lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m not. I’m going to tell them the truth. You can’t force me to keep quiet. You can’t force me to do anything anymore.”

Sally’s face altered, her features tightening with bitterness and pain and something more that frightened Averil. “And do you think Lady Averil ’ere will look after you? You’re my daughter, stupid girl. No lady would want to be friends with the likes of us. Now do as you’re told.”

Violet turned to look at Averil, her eyes wide and pleading, but before Averil could answer, she darted past her and out of the room, her footsteps clattering down the stairs.

“Violet!” Averil called after her, and belatedly went to follow.

Jackson caught her arm, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. “Not so fast, my lady,” he said, and his ugly face twisted into a nasty smile. “We haven’t finished with you yet, have we, Sal?”

Sally sauntered toward her, malice in her face. “If you think you’re just going to waltz off with my girl, then you’ve got another think coming,” she said. “Women go missing around ’ere, didn’t you know? Some of ’em are murdered. You shouldn’t go wandering around on your own. Never know what might ’appen.”

Averil did her best not to show fear, refusing to drop her gaze or her chin, although inside she was quaking. “Let me go,” she said coldly. “I want to leave now and I’m taking Violet with me.”

Jackson gave a snort of laughter. “What do you think, Sal? Is she leaving?”

Slowly, Sally shook her head. “No,” she said quietly, “I don’t think she is.”

He could hear their voices as he reached the top of the stairs. Averil sounded angry, but she also sounded scared. He broke into a run and reached the door of Sally’s office out of breath, just in time to see Jackson manhandling a struggling Averil, while Sally was watching on with a smile of cruel satisfaction.

“Let her go, Jackson, or I’ll break your arms,” he growled.

Averil cried out, and Jackson let her go so suddenly that she stumbled and almost fell. Rufus hurried forward and caught her. His arm was tight around her waist, and he drew her in to his side, holding her there in case she tried to pull away. She didn’t. She seemed to melt into him, clinging to his jacket, and he could feel her trembling.

“Are you all right?” he murmured, more shaken than he’d felt for years.

She nodded and lifted her head to look at him. There was a wobbly smile on her lips and her hair was falling untidily about her shoulders and her sleeve was torn. If he hadn’t reached her in time . . . the thought made him angrier still, but he knew he couldn’t afford to be distracted. He turned back to the other two, who were watching him intently.