Lady Pamela and the Gambler (The Merry Misfits of Bath 3)

“Wh-hy are th-they here? Did the owner l-let you t-take them?” Pamela twisted her hands in her lap, showing signs of unease.

Nick grinned. “No. I am afraid not. I paid the fee and took the girls upstairs and told them to wait for me. Then I left through the window, purchased coats for them and returned with a hackney. At my direction, they climbed out the window. I caught them and we made our way to the train station.”

“Won’t the pub owner be looking for them?” Mrs. Fletcher asked.

“Eventually, yes. But since I bought their services for the entire night the owner will not even look for them until tomorrow morning.”

Pamela stood, her hands wringing. “Th-this is t-t-terrible. We have to fi-find Lizbeth. I am so w-worried for her.” To his horror she burst into tears.

Casting a sympathetic glance at Pamela, Mrs. Fletcher was considerate enough to stand and leave the room. “I will check on dinner,” she said as she closed the door behind her. Then, apparently thinking better of it, she opened it about a foot. Always the chaperone.

Nick took Pamela into his arms and rubbed her back. She was still distraught from her injuries and probably in pain. He hated seeing her this way and wanted to make everything right for her. Only then would he be able to move ahead with making her his, to be sure that no one ever hurt her again.

He moved his hand up to her head and massaged her scalp. “The girls were too confused, and I also suspect drugged, to get any information from them. They mostly slept on the train ride home.” He pulled back and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I will speak with them tomorrow and see what information I can gain. But I also have several men scouring the streets of London, asking questions.”

“We n-n-need to be in London. I f-f-feel so helpless here.” Pamela looked up at him, her eyes red from crying.

“As soon as you are feeling better—”

She pulled away. “—N-n-no! We cannot wait. I f-feel fine to tr-travel. We must g-go tomorrow.”

He had his doubts that she felt well enough to travel, but at this point he was more concerned about her emotional state. He’d lived with the sense of having no control for years as a child, and even as a young adult, so he knew the feeling well. It was not something he wanted Pamela to live with.

“All right. We will leave tomorrow. But you must promise me you will let me know if you tire.” He studied her. “You are still not recovered and please excuse what I am about to say, but you look like you’ve been in a pugilist competition. And lost.”

Despite her anxiety, she smiled. “I s-s-suppose I do. All I n-need is a hat with a v-veil to cover my f-f-face and a cl-cloak with long sleeves to c-cover my wrist b-brace and I w-will look fine.”

He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “You always look fine.”

The next morning, Pamela, Nick and Mrs. Fletcher set out to the train station for their trip to London. Pamela had allowed Mrs. Fletcher to give her a small dose of laudanum to ease the pain she was sure to feel with the jostling of the carriage and train.

She smiled at how solicitous Nick had been, making sure she was well covered by her veil and cloak, and insisted on bringing a small pillow from the drawing room for her head in case she wished to sleep on the train.

“How d-did your interview with th-the girls go th-this morning?” Pamela adjusted the cloak around her body and winced as the carriage started up and her body reminded her of every bruise and injury she’d received. Thankfully, the veil hid her face well enough that Nick hadn’t noticed. She would not put it passed him to turn around and hustle her back to bed.

“I didn’t get as much information as I would have liked. Both girls had been sold to the pub by family members, so there was no name they could provide us with.”

Pamela’s stomach sunk at Nick’s words. Her family had been bad enough in forcing her out of the house, but at least they hadn’t sold her to a brothel. “How c-c-could anyone d-d-do such a thing?”

Nick shook his head and leaned back against the leather seat of the carriage. “For many reasons. Most of them involving money. Even though the girls did not have a name for me, I am quite certain there was someone involved in the sale. Someone who approached the family and waved enough money under their nose to have them agree to the deal.”

“Wh-what do you h-hope to accomplish in L-London?”

Nick looked out the window as the carriage grew closer to the train station. “As I said, I have contacts searching for me, but more importantly, I’ve learned the name of a man in the House of Commons who has been working on a bill to protect women and children from being kidnapped and sold. I sent him a missive, explaining the situation and asked for his help. I’m hoping if we put our heads together and share the information we both have it might lead us to Miss Davenport.”

“That s-s-sounds promising.” Pamela felt hopeful for the first time since Lizbeth had been kidnapped.

The carriage came to a rolling stop and the driver hopped down and opened the door. Nick stepped out and turned to help Pamela while the driver helped Mrs. Fletcher out of the vehicle.

“Find a porter to transport our luggage from the carriage to the train. We will be taking the next one to London.” Nick spoke to the driver as other vehicles drew up and their occupants alighted.

“You are looking a bit peaked already,” Nick said as he studied her. “I am glad we brought the pillow so you can rest.”

Pamela huffed. “I am f-fine.” She gripped his arm as a wave of lightheadedness washed over her.

“Yes. You are fine. I can see that.” Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulders and directed her forward.

“You d-d-don’t have to do th-that.” She attempted to shrug his arm from around her. It really was not proper to have him touch her so intimately in a public place.