Aidan, he reminded himself. You have come here to bring your brother back to the loving bosom of his family and not to seduce the woman at your side.
“That was unspeakably rude of you, Wolf,” Pen chastised her brother. “Poor Lord Lindsey nearly choked on his ale. You owe him an apology.”
Wolf Sutton smirked, nary a hint of remorse in his countenance. “Forgive me, milord. For a moment there, I forgot we had left our family’s hell in the care of others to come here and chase after your no-account brother who managed to get himself kidnapped by a filching mort.”
The sarcasm was not lost on Garrick, even if he was uncertain what a filching mort was. A lady thief?
He cleared his throat, his breathing restored to its customary rhythm at last. “I do appreciate the favor you and your siblings are paying myself and my family, Sutton. As I said this morning, it shall not go unrewarded.”
“We do not require a reward for doing what is right,” Pen inserted stubbornly. “Is that not the way of it, brothers?”
“A small reward would not be entirely—bleeding hell, that hurt, Pen,” said Hart Sutton, casting a scowl in his sister’s direction. “I’ll take those boots from you if you don’t stop using them to kick my damned shins.”
“We do not require a reward,” she repeated pointedly, unconcerned by her brother’s threat concerning her footwear.
Garrick had to admit that the sight of her in boots and trousers was rather growing on him. Seeing her lush curves on display for anyone else, however, was another matter. He had caught more than one roving eye on her finely formed limbs as they had entered The Beggar’s Purse earlier. He had no doubt that no one was fooled; even a man who had lost his sight would know Pen Sutton was a woman.
And a glorious one at that.
But that thought, like so many others, was distinctly unwelcome at the moment.
He consulted his pocket watch and discovered the appointed time was nigh. “It would seem we have reached the pinnacle of this particular drama. I shall leave the one thousand pounds at the rear as the missive suggested.”
Garrick was aware of Pen’s gaze on him, it was searing, rather like a touch. He turned to her.
“Tell me you did not bring one thousand pounds,” she told him with a wince.
“Of course I did.”
If he had to pay the blunt to whomever was behind this, he would. As long as it meant Aidan was freed.
“Christ, Viscount. That was bleeding stupid,” Wolf Sutton added with a chortle.
“We oughtn’t be surprised,” Hart Sutton said to his brother.
“Lads,” Pen snapped. “You are not helping matters one whit.” She turned back to Garrick. “The charleys The Sinner’s Palace keeps on retainer are on duty this evening, and we’ve asked them to surround The Beggar’s Purse. You’ll not need to pay a scrope to free Aidan.”
He nodded, because it was the most efficient response. No need to argue or belabor the point any further. He had brought the coin, and he was willing to pay. He had learned from Veronica that a man should trust no one. Not even a woman who professed to love him with all her heart.
Especially not then.
“I will do as we planned,” he said, before rising from the table.
“Do you want me to accompany you?” Pen asked.
“You ain’t going with his lordship,” Wolf Sutton growled.
“You’ll be staying here,” Hart Sutton said.
Apparently, her brothers did not know her at all. For if there was anything that guaranteed Pen was going to do something, it was to offer her opposition. Her pride would not allow it.
She was on her feet before he could blink, pinning her brothers with a determined stare. “I will be accompanying his lordship, and that is final.”
The Sutton brothers exchanged a glance before the eldest shrugged and turned back to her.
“Suit yourself,” he said, “but if anything goes awry, you’ll be the one facing Jasper’s wrath, not us.”
“I will,” she said with a nod.
Garrick wondered who the devil Jasper was, jealousy bolting through him like a runaway colt. But he tamped it down, telling himself it was likely another brother. And even if it was a lover, what should it mean to him?
Only everything.
He banished the unwanted thought.
“I will protect Miss Sutton with my life,” he vowed to her brothers. “I am an expert marksman.”
To that end, he had a pistol secreted in his coat, and he would not hesitate to use it if necessary. He may be a gentleman, but he was not a complete and utter noddy. The Suttons appeared unimpressed, however, despite his words.
“Come,” Pen said with a nod of her head toward the rear of the establishment. “’Tis the alley where you must meet them, no?”
Apparently, she had been beneath this roof before and knew her way around the establishment. Likely, with Aidan. Yet another stab of jealousy hit him. He did not like the thought of her doing anything alone with his brother, even if they truly were friends as she claimed.
But he followed her, just the same.
They made their way through the throng of raucous men and women, through smoke and laughter and an endless number of unseemly displays. Christ, his mother would be horrified if she knew he had ever entered such a place, let alone spent so much time in the company of a woman who knew her way around one.
At last, they reached the darkened street behind The Beggar’s Purse, where he had been instructed to leave the ransom at half past ten. It occurred to him that the missive had not been specific. He searched through the murky shadows in an effort to find a proper place where he might be expected to leave the funds. But when he reached into his coat to extract the notes, Pen’s hand seized his wrist.
He would be lying if he said that touch did not move him.