He covered her hand with his. “We will try our best but there’s a chance she might not even be in the country any longer.” He wished he could have protected her from that information, but if they were to work together on this, she had to know what they were up against.
Pamela lowered her head as tears slid down her cheeks. “I will n-n-not rest until I f-f-find her.” She looked up at Nick as she brushed the tears from her face. “She is sw-sweet girl. Very friendly and c-caring, an artist. She c-c-came from a very g-g-good background but f-f-found herself all alone in the w-w-world when influenza t-t-took both her parents and her t-t-two brothers.”
It was tearing him up to see her so upset. He rubbed the inside of her wrist which seemed to calm her. He wanted more than anything to reach out and place her on his lap, and hold her close, but that would be awkward with her sprained wrist brace. And Mrs. Fletcher would somehow sense it from whatever room she was in and barrel through the dining room door with righteous indignation.
She took the handkerchief he handed her. “Is Mrs. O’Leary in-involved with th-this?”
“Yes. However, from what I’ve learned, your landlady is only one source this organization has used to provide a supply of clean, young women for the brothels in London, and in some cases outside the country.”
“Wh-what d-do you mean by cl-clean?”
He hesitated for a minute, realizing as an innocent young woman this would cause her even more stress. “A virgin. Those women would not carry diseases.”
Her chin dropped and she stared at him, the blush rising from above her neckline to her hairline. “Wh-what are we g-going to do?”
“I will be doing what needs to be done. You will stay out of it. However,” he added when she opened her mouth to speak—most likely to object—"I want you with me in London. I don’t trust anyone here to take care of you. As you mentioned, neither Mrs. Westbrooke nor Lady Berkshire are not in a position to help with them being in a family way. Their husbands would certainly not appreciate the stress for their wives.”
Were he totally honest, he would have told her how very important it was for him to have her within arm’s reach. Just the thought of her being injured, or possibly killed was enough to cause him to break into a cold sweat.
Grateful that she didn’t insist on being involved in the matter, he breathed a sigh of relief. He could never conduct the investigation the way he needed to with the chance that Pamela was in harm’s way. If he was totally honest with himself, however, he merely wanted her with him.
“P-perhaps I sh-should st-st-stay with my b-b-brother?”
He knew nothing of her family and was quite surprised to hear there was a brother. “Your brother?”
She nodded. “Yes. My br-brother is the Earl of M-m-mulgrave.”
He knew that for her to be Lady Pamela, she had to have come from nobility. But her brother was an earl? How the devil did she end up earning her own way miles from family in a boarding house? If anything, that alone convinced him her brother would not be the best one to protect her from any future attacks.
Deciding this was not the best time to raise that subject, he said, “No. I think it best if you stay with me—and Mrs. Fletcher,” he hurried to add, “—at Mr. Montrose’s house in London. He is a friend of mine who allows me to use his townhouse when I am in London. Montrose lives in Scotland and is rarely in England. Even if he were to be there now, the place is large enough for the three of us to be easily accommodated.”
Pamela picked up her fork and continued to eat. “Wh-when d-do we l-leave?”
“As soon as possible. However, since you arrived at hospital yesterday with none of your belongings, I can give you a couple of days to purchase what you need for the next few weeks.”
Her mouth dropped open again. It appeared he continued to shock her. “Y-y-you cannot b-b-buy my clothes.”
“Pamela, we have no choice. I don’t think you would want to travel to London with only the clothes on your back. And considering the fit of what you’re wearing now, I assume this was lent to you from someone in the house?”
“Yes, Mrs. Fletcher was k-k-kind enough to loan me clothing that h-her daughter left be-behind when she married and m-m-moved away.” She smiled at Nick. “Mrs. Fletcher is tr-truly a wonderful woman. You are f-f-fortunate to have h-her.”
He grimaced. “Yes. However, right now I could do without her.” He couldn’t help thinking that even though he had planned on having Mrs. Fletcher act as chaperone for Pamela, she didn’t have to be so very enthusiastic about it. A quick kiss here and there wouldn’t hurt Pamela’s reputation. But then the time would come, no doubt, when a kiss would not be enough.
Pamela did not answer his comment but her raised eyebrows and slight blush to her cheeks told him she suspected what his words meant.
Pamela’s head was spinning with the major changes that had taken place in her life in a mere twenty-four hours. She had been a young woman living in a quiet boarding house, giving piano and voice lessons to young girls, with two best friends whom she loved.
Now she was homeless, friendless—except for Nick—without any belongings—not even under garments—and ready to escape to London to investigate a prostitution ring. She’d learned her landlady was evil, the young woman she’d grown fond of had been kidnapped, and her own life was in danger—and had practically ended when she’d been run down on the street.
The only steady presence in her current life was Mr. Nicholas Smith, who she never even knew a few months ago. Add to all those disturbing facts the idea that Mr. Smith had a fancy for her, and she was afraid that she was slowly developing one for him.
He was a very nice man, caring, protective and well-thought of by his staff which was always a good indicator of one’s character. He was certainly easy to look at, with his muscular build, deep brown eyes and wavy hair that landed on his forehead with regularity, but she still stuttered and would embarrass him once he grew tired of her stumbling over everything.
Nick wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin alongside his plate. “I have accounts at several stores in Bath where you may purchase items.”
“I can’t d-do th-that! How can I walk into a st-store in the t-t-town where I’ve lived for th-three years and order cl-clothing and tell th-them to put it on your bill? Good h-h-heavens I might as well w-walk around with a r-r-red letter on my dress.”
“Of course. What was I thinking?” He studied her for a minute. “Besides you are not in any condition to be out shopping anyway. You need to rest for at least a few days. I will have Mrs. Fletcher visit a