Samantha (Barrett 2)

Certainly, anyone who lived in such a shabby section of town couldn't afford to loan Remington money. Perhaps something sinister was planned, something that would place Remington in grave danger.

It was a good thing she'd come.

The phaeton slowed, then halted, shifting a bit as Remington alighted.

"I'll be less than an hour," Sammy heard Rem mutter to someone.

"I'll watch the phaeton fer ye, sir," a gruff voice replied.

"Fine." Remington's heels echoed on the pavement, and a moment later a door opened, then closed.

Sammy could have argued with how "fine" it was. How in the world was she going to alight with a sentry posted beside the carriage?

Her luck held.

'"Ello, Jack."

"Chelsea! I didn't know ye were workin' tonight."

"I wasn't s'posed to ... but I 'eard from Annie ye were comin'."

Evidently, Remington's helper had met a lady with whom he was acquainted. Now was Sammy's only chance.

Gingerly, she eased herself onto her haunches, nearly crying aloud as shards of pain shot through her cramped limbs. She bit back the cry, maneuvering herself to the side of the phaeton farthest from the chatting couple. She paused.

"I've missed ye, Chels. It's not the same without ye."

A throaty chuckle. "And just 'ow many women 'ave you told that line to?"

An answering chuckle, one that told Sammy the man called Jack was still very much engrossed in his lady friend.

Sammy sprang lightly to the street, ducking beside the carriage and waiting.

"I'm not busy with anyone else tonight, Jack. Are ye interested?"

"Ye know I am."

Peeking over the top of the phaeton, Sammy blinked. Working? Busy with anyone else? What sort of establishment was this shoddy place anyway?

She intended to find out.

"Annie." Rem tipped his hat.

"Well, hello, Rem, don't you look dashing tonight?"

Glancing down at his formal attire, Rem grinned. "I came directly from my evening engagement."

"Then she must not have been as good as my girls. You're wearing far too much clothing."

A corner of Rem's mouth lifted. "I do emerge from the bedroom occasionally, you know."

"Occasionally." Annie's tone was dry. Seeing Rem scan the room, she added, "Boyd's in his usual spot. Go on. I'll send some drinks back."

"Thanks, love." Rem kissed her hand and headed to the back of the room.

"That one's special, Cynthia," Annie murmured to the dark-eyed young woman who walked over just then. "He has a way of making a whore feel like a lady." Wistfully, Annie touched her hand where Rem had kissed it.

"There are very few of those," Cynthia replied. "Very few."