“You think I don’t know that?” he asked through tight lips.
“Then let her follow her own destiny.”
He owed this man so much. His health. His sanity. His very life. But now he had no time to explain what he barely understood himself. “If I help her, it might wash some of the black from my soul.”
“She’s a stranger.”
“She’s in trouble. We have to find her.”
For a moment they couldn’t afford to waste, Akash studied him. Finally, he gave an abrupt nod. “She has an aunt in town?”
“A lie. She’s on the run from someone or something. My guess is she means to take her chances on the streets.”
“She’s a lady. She won’t survive.”
“She will if we find her.” The idea of the girl’s pride and courage coming to disaster made Gideon’s gut cramp. Without another word, he set off down the hallway toward the back door.
They emerged into a bleak snow-covered yard behind the kitchens. The freezing wind smelled of thousands of coal fires and salt from the sea. Directly above was the room the girl had escaped. The day was gray and grim, but there was plenty of light to show a line of small footprints leading to the back gate.
Thank God it had stopped snowing, although it was perishing cold. Gideon hoped Sarah had had the sense to take his greatcoat. He shoved his gloved hands into his jacket pockets and set out along the trail. Akash and Tulliver were a reassuring presence behind him.
The high wooden gate led into a dingy alley sheltered from the weather by brick walls. No more footprints. It didn’t matter. One end of the alley ended in a blank wall. She could only have taken the other direction, toward the busy street that passed the front of the inn.
Cursing, Gideon set out at a run and burst onto the packed thoroughfare. Even on a bitter day, Portsmouth thronged with people. Sailors of many nations. Respectable burghers. Militia in their bright scarlet uniforms. Roughly dressed farmworkers from the surrounding countryside.
But no slight bright-haired girl weaved her way through the pulsing, noisy crowd. Gideon scanned the street while dread beat a remorseless tattoo in his heart. She was small and too easy to miss.
She was small and too easy to hurt.
“Do you see her?” Akash asked beside him.
“No. But she can’t have gone far. Tulliver only just missed her. Those footprints are fresh. And she doesn’t know the town. We’ll split up and meet back here in half an hour.” Without waiting for a reply, Gideon launched himself down the street.
Leaden fear settled in his belly as he realized he headed toward the docks. For all his burning need to find Sarah, he hoped to hell she’d chosen a different route. Portsmouth was a navy town and full of press-ganged sailors, brutish men not far removed from criminals. Every step closer to the waterfront was a step closer to peril.
The press of people chafed, but compared to those overwhelming weeks in London, it was bearable. He forced himself to breathe deeply, evenly, concentrating on each inhalation and exhalation. He could control his discomfort in a crowd. He couldn’t quell the tension that tightened his shoulders as his fear for Sarah rose. At least he’d given her the pistol although heaven knew if she had the spirit to use it.
He recalled her reckless courage. She’d use it, all right. He just prayed he found her before she needed to.
Devil take her, why hadn’t the chit trusted him?
He tried desperately not to think what might happen to her. She’d already suffered so much. He’d promised her help, and he’d failed miserably.
He’d failed so often. Damn it, he wasn’t going to fail this time, not when the girl’s life was at stake.
Swiftly but purposefully, he moved down the street, checking doorways and side passages. He doubted she’d go into one of the shops lining the road, crowded as they were with people avoiding the weather. She’d be too conspicuous, with her bruised face and bandaged wrist.
Dear Lord, keep her safe until I get to her.
He repeated the silent plea with every thud of his heart until the words lost meaning, and all he knew was his overpowering need to find her. Still he searched. Every nook, every recess, every corner. By God, he wouldn’t let her escape him.
He nearly missed her.
A group of rowdy men crowded into a narrow alley. Sailors by the look of them, with their dirty calico smocks. Drunk, seeking trouble.
Something about their concentrated menace alerted instincts honed in a thousand dusty Indian byways. Then one of the roughly dressed men shifted, and Gideon glimpsed a familiar black greatcoat.
Sarah.