When a Marquis Chooses a Bride (19 page)

Sukey glanced at Roger.

“You can believe the lady,” he assured her. “His lordship don't go back on his word.”

The front knocker sounded and Roger went to answer it.

A tall, slender man in a red coat entered the hall. “I'm Mr. Hatchet from Bow Street.”

Dotty rose. “I am Miss Stern. You will find Lord and Lady Merton as well as Major Horton of the Life Guards in the parlor. I believe you will require help.”

“My associate, Mr. Bonner, will be here soon.”

“I shall leave you to it then.”

Though she would have rather helped go through the items in the landlady's parlor, she decided to wait for Mrs. Horton. It wouldn't do to have her walking in on the scene unawares. What they had to tell her would be distressing enough. Even Dotty felt as if a lead weight had lodged in her stomach, and she knew a great deal about how cruel people could be to one another from the visits around the parish she had been making. Still, something told her that the worst was yet to come, and she would need all the strength and compassion she could muster.

Before long, the other Runner arrived and Dotty directed him to the parlor. Sukey, accompanied by Roger, went to the kitchen to make tea. Dotty sat on the stairs again. It seemed to take forever before Dom and his mother reentered the hall.

He held out his hand to her, helping her rise, then drew her into his arms. “Do I have a new servant?”

She loved how his dry remarks always made her feel better, and grinned against his coat. “Yes, you do. She cannot remain here at all. It is too dangerous.”

“Roger will escort her to Merton House.”

Remembering his mother was present, she jerked back. “My lady, I forgot myself. I shouldn't have—”

“You have had a hard day, my dear.” She smiled gently. “There is nothing wrong with allowing your future husband to comfort you.”

Dom pulled her back to him. “Nothing at all inappropriate.”

Though when Major Horton walked into the hall, Dom's arms dropped to his sides. “Major, where will you go?”

His face settled into grim lines. “I don't know. The Runners assured us that we could remain here for the next few weeks, but I will not leave my wife alone after I've gone.”

“Is there no way you can take her with you?” Dotty asked.

The major ran a hand through his hair. “No. I may be able to get out of the mission, but it won't do my career any good. With the war over, it's getting harder to stay on active duty.”

Dom's profile was grim. “What about your parents or hers?”

The major gave a bark of humorless laughter. “We talked of her staying with her mother, but it would be war. Our families hate each other. They haven't cut us off, but if my wife and child were to live with one over the other, it would drive poor Rebecca out of her mind.”

Dotty exchanged a look with Lady Merton and an idea started to take root. “What if you had safe housing for your family?”

“What are you thinking, dear?” Lady Merton asked.

“I do not know the legalities or even if it could be done.” Dotty glanced around the hall. “But what if this house, or one like it, could be purchased and made into a safe place?” Ideas flooded her mind as she spoke. “The apartments could be rented by families such as Major Horton's or widows with no place to go, or”—her next suggestion was so outrageous, she didn't know if even her ladyship would agree—“ladies in need.”

Holding her breath, she waited to see if her future mother-in-law understood.

A glow of comprehension lit Lady Merton's face. “Yes, of course. There are so many gently bred ladies of limited means and—and others who need assistance.”

Dotty breathed again. “My lord, will you buy this house and one or two others?”

Lady Merton glanced at Dom and raised a brow. “If he does not, I shall.”

He regarded his mother for a few moments, then took Dotty's hand and brought it to his lips. “Probably not this one. It is too well-known to the criminal element. However, if it will make you happy, I shall have my steward look into others.”

His gaze caught hers, warming her. She had been right. Dom was a kind and generous man, and he was hers. Hers to love. And she had never been happier. “Thank you.”

“Gor, ain't he a fine gentleman,” Sukey said from the corridor to the kitchen.

Major Horton gave a shout of laughter, but stopped when the door opened and his wife and child entered from one side of the hall at the same time one of the Bow Street Runners walked in from the side corridor, gripping Mrs. White's chubby arm. Tears had made tracks down her powdered face and the blacking she used on her eyelashes ran, giving her a ghoulish appearance.

“My goodness.” Mrs. Horton opened her eyes wide and focused on her husband. “Lion, what is going on?”

Major Horton picked up his daughter and took his wife aside, speaking to her in a low voice. At one point, the lady gasped and cut a look first at the landlady, then at Dotty and Dom.

“Ladies, my lord, Major,” the Runner said, “we'll need your statements as soon as possible.”

Dom inclined his head. “Of course, if there is a desk, we shall make them immediately.”

Once the Runner and Mrs. White left, Sukey cleared her throat. “I'll take you to Mrs. White's office. You can have your tea there.”

They all followed the maid to a small room at the back of the house. It was furnished with an old oak desk and several chairs. On one side of the desk stood a bookshelf filled with ledgers. While Dom sat and took several pieces of foolscap from the maid, Dotty searched the ledgers. Whatever else the landlady was, she kept meticulous records. They were filled with the household expenditures, names of the lodgers, and income. Mrs. White had kept records of her criminal dealings as well, including the amounts she received from her accomplices and either their initials or nom de guerre. At least that was what Dotty thought a name like “Snake” must be.

“Sukey, call Mr. Hatchet”

Dom raised his head. “Thea, what did you find?”

She held up the ledger. “She wrote everything down. If her victims are still alive, we might be able to save them.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “You mean the Runners will be able to find them. You cannot go to Whitecastle or wherever the criminal gangs are. It's far too dangerous.”

“Yes, of course.” He was right about that part, but this Miss Betsy's was only a few streets away and the sooner she found the women, the better.

Chapter Sixteen

Dom sprinkled sand over his statement and relinquished the desk to his mother. The major and his wife were seated on the other side of the desk writing their accounts. Thea, on the other hand, was busy inscribing information from one of the ledgers into her pocketbook. Her green eyes sparkled with daring.

Dash it all, she was up to something. He truly did not think she would be reckless enough to try to approach the thieves alone, but what else could it be?

His uncle's voice had been railing in Dom's head for the past half hour, telling him that consorting with lower ranking members of society and the Runners was below his status as a Merton.

Remember who you are, Merton
.

Shaking his head, he tried to clear it. The Runner, who was now collecting the ledgers, had told him that the selling of women and children, although rare in areas such as Mayfair, was common elsewhere in London. The man told him stories of young women who had come seeking respectable jobs, being kidnapped, and forced into brothels. Young children forced to steal to live, and those as young as five transported for crimes or simply because no one knew what to do with them. Lately, due to the war being over and so many military men out of work, the problem had grown. How had he not known about any of this?

The ugly thought came to him that this was part of what Worthington was so angry with Dom about. Had his votes and positions worsened England's problems? If caring for one's country was a duty, then it followed that doing something to help those in need was also a duty.

His uncle may have coddled Dom, protecting him from the harsher elements, but he had willingly remained swaddled. Perhaps now was the time to enter the real world. The one in which his cousin, betrothed, and even his mother, seemed firmly ensconced.

“My lord?”

Thea's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Lady Merton and I have decided to go to this Miss Betsy's and fetch the women taken there.”

Major Horton suddenly began coughing.

The Runner turned bright red. “Miss, my lady, you really should leave well enough alone. It's probably too late for those women.”

“What do you mean?” Thea frowned, her brow furrowing. “Are they dead?”

“Er, no, not exactly.” The man ran his finger under his neckcloth. “But they may as well be.”

Mama's unbelieving expression matched his betrothed's. Apparently, she had been converted to the reformist cause as well.

“If they are ill,” Mama said stiffly, “that is even more reason Miss Stern and I must find them.”

Dom watched the Runner shuffle his feet. Could it be that the place was a bawdy house? He slid a glance at the major who mouthed, “Whorehouse.”

Hell.
All it needed was this. Somehow Dom would have to stop them. He could not allow his mother and Thea to consort with ladybirds or worse, and he couldn't take his coach, which was emblazoned with his coat of arms, to a place like that. He raked his hand through his hair. The real question was could he stop them? He had not been successful at thwarting their activities thus far.

“If the major will accompany me, I shall go. First I want to take Miss Stern back to Stanwood House.” He addressed her. “You are going to be late for dinner, and you wouldn't want to worry Grace.”

Thea shook her head thoughtfully. “You might scare the ladies. It will be better if your mother and I go alone.”

The major cleared his throat. “My lord, Worthington might be more useful to you, and I would prefer not to leave my family at the moment.”

“No, no, my love.” Mrs. Horton laid a hand on her husband's arm. “I'm sure we will be fine. You must help save those poor women. While you are gone I shall make the other rooms ready, unless you think the ladies should go to a hospital.”

He looked at his wife as if she'd lost her mind. “I still think we need Worthington's advice.”

Thea glanced at the watch pinned to her bodice. “We have at least an hour until dinner. Surely we can accomplish our task before then.”

“I agree. Come, Dominic.” His mother turned to the door. “If we are to take Worthington with us, there is no time to lose.”

Good God. None of the ladies seemed to have the faintest clue what Miss Betsy's was and how bad it could be. Somehow he'd have to stop them. His cousin might have an idea how to accomplish what was turning into a Sisyphean task.

“Roger, stay here until we return.” Dom took Thea's arm and, followed by his mother and the major, strode to the coach.

The short ride to Berkeley Square was made in silence. Dom assumed it was due to the events of the day being too horrific to discuss.

Until, that was, Thea glanced at him quizzically. “I do not understand why someone would pay for sick women.”

Lord help him. He had to keep her from discovering the truth. She might know more about some of the horrible things that happened to people, but he was damn sure she didn't know much about brothels.

The carriage drew up in front of Stanwood House, and the door was open before he'd assisted Thea and his mother down from the coach.

Grace met them on the steps. “I was beginning to worry.” Her gaze searched their faces. “What is wrong?”

Dom's mother bussed Grace's cheek. “Is Worthington at home?”

“Not to anyone else, but he will be for you. He is in my study.”

They followed her into the hall and down a corridor. He stood when they entered the room. “Horton! I haven't seen you in a month of Sundays. What brings you here?”

Grace rang for tea and once it arrived Thea told them what they had discovered about Tom, Mrs. White, and Thea and Dom's mother's plan to find the missing women.

Worthington leaned back in his chair, regarding Thea. “Do you know what kind of establishment Miss Betsy's is?”

She shook her head.

Blast it all to hell!
“She doesn't need to know. There is no reason you, Major Horton, and I cannot see to it.”

Grace's lips firmed. “Merton, you cannot keep Dotty or your mother in ignorance. She will learn about those types of establishments soon enough after you are married.”

Was Grace implying he would visit a bawdy house?

“Dominic, do not scowl,” his mother said. “What Grace means is that once you are married, Dorothea will hear the kinds of things not discussed around innocents.”

He swallowed and almost choked. “
Ladies
discuss . . .”

Grace grinned. “You would be surprised what we talk about. You will need at least one female with you, otherwise your help might be taken the wrong way.” She turned to her husband. “I shall go.”

Thea's jaw took on a mulish cast. “If Grace is going, I will as well.”

Worthington closed his eyes for a moment, before uttering, “Dotty, it's a brothel.”

His words seemed to take some of the wind out of her sails, though not for long. “But if Merton and Grace are with me, I do not see the problem.”

His mother patted Thea's hand. “I shall accompany Grace. It really would not do for you to go. It could cause a problem if anyone sees you.”

“I must say I agree,” Grace added.

Thea took a sip of tea and puckered her brow. “What if I remain in the coach with the shades down?”

Worthington rubbed his cheek. “Someone would have to stay with you. One never knows who will be in the area.”

Had everyone gone mad? “Worthington, may I speak with you alone?”

Grace rose from her perch on her chair. “I'll call for the coach. Ladies, will you come with me?”

Thea glanced at Dom before following Grace and his mother out of the room. Once the door was shut, he turned on his cousin. “What the devil are you about even thinking of allowing her to come with us?”

Worthington narrowed his eyes. “Did you see the look on her face? She is coming whether we want her to or not. Do you want her to show up with just a footman in tow?”

Dom slumped back in his chair. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He was the head of the family. Thea and his mother should do what he wanted them to. “There must be some way to stop her?”

“Short of locking her in her bedchamber, I doubt it.”

He straightened. “That might work.”

His cousin shook his head. “Someone would let her out in very short order. You'll soon learn that when you marry a woman with her own mind, your chances of getting your way greatly decrease.”

Dom wanted to groan. If only he had settled for a suitable bride, but the idea of another man touching Thea ended that line of thinking. Worthington had to be wrong. He had merely given in too easily. Once they were married, Dom would have more control over Thea. After all, a woman had to listen to her husband.

* * *

With the days getting longer, it was still light when the two black coaches pulled up in front of a large house on the outskirts of Mayfair. Dotty fiddled with the veil Grace had loaned her. The lacework was made in such a way that she could see out of it, but no one would be able to make out her face. That had settled Dom somewhat, but he still wasn't happy. Well, as Grace said, sooner or later, he would have to get used to Dotty taking actions needed to save others.

The three gentlemen and the four large footmen carried pistols. Matt also brought a purse of coins to give to Miss Betsy in case that was the only way to get the women back.

Dotty had known about girls from the country being taken up to work as prostitutes. It had happened to one of the girls from their small town. Unfortunately, the young woman had died before anyone could rescue her.

A man who seemed familiar loitered on the street near the next building. When he faced her, she recognized Hatchet, one of the Runners from today.

As she settled back against the soft squabs to wait, Dom took her hand. “It goes against my grain, but Worthington is right. You are safer with me and the veil is heavy enough that no one will recognize you.”

Her heart thudded, making her a little breathless. He would be her husband in a few weeks, and she did not wish to fight with him. Yet she had a feeling that it was important to Dom to think he was in charge. “You mean I may come?”

“Yes.” His stern tone matched the grim look on his face. “But you must remain by my side. Clutch my coattails if you need to.” His voice softened. “This will be a shock for you, I'm sure.”

She wanted to kiss his cheek, but the veil would have gotten in the way. “I have little doubt you are right.”

One of Matt's larger footmen knocked on the door, then stood aside. A man dressed as a butler, but brawny with a nose that had been broken, opened it and stood in the entrance.

Matt edged himself in the doorway. “We're here to see Miss Betsy.”

The man bowed. “I'll bet you are. We cater to all here.”

Dotty's hand was tucked in Dom's arm as they followed the servant into a large hall decorated in pale blue and gold. Small Roman statues stood on pedestals. She glanced at the ceiling that was covered with naked couples twined together.

She had never seen anything like that before. A tug on her arm brought her attention back to her betrothed. Then she made the mistake of looking at the servant.

The butler's gaze raked Dotty's cloaked form. “Let me know if you want it a bit rougher, and I'm happy to oblige.”

Dom's arm turned to stone, trapping her hand next to his body. “Miss Betsy,” he snarled. “Now.”

“Brutus, what have I told you about that?” A woman dressed in a white Grecian-style gown trimmed with gold ribbon moved toward them. Bits of red showed through the barely opaque costume. As she walked, the skirts separated showing scandalous glimpses of her bare legs. Her toes were painted gold to match her sandals.

“Sorry, Miss Betsy.”

Ignoring him, she focused on their little group. “Welcome to my house of pleasure.” As the woman's gaze roamed over Dom, she purred. “We shall go into my parlor where you will tell me your desires.”

Dotty tugged him possessively closer. Never mind her staying close to Dom. He was obviously in as much danger as she. If that woman tried to touch him, she would not be answerable for her actions.

Miss Betsy glanced dismissively at Dotty. Before remembering the woman couldn't see it through the veil, she raised a brow, giving the female her haughtiest look.

The parlor Miss Betsy led them to was decorated in the popular Egyptian style of white and gold. They sat on the low chaises, and she called for wine.

Once they had been served, Matt took a scrap of paper from his pocket. “We are here for two young women whom you bought from Mrs. White.”

Under her rouge, Miss Betsy paled, then she raised her chin. “I don't know what you're talking about. My girls come to me of their own accord.”

Liar!
Dotty wanted to scream at the woman. Instead she stared steadily at the brothel owner.

Next to her, Dom shifted. “Mrs. White has been arrested, and her ledgers are with Bow Street. We know the amounts you paid and the dates.”

The woman's eyes became wary as she clearly tried to think of another story. “They weren't appropriate for my house. I had to let them go.”

Dotty prayed it wasn't true. As bad as this place must be, somewhere else could be much worse.

Miss Betsy cut a sharp glance toward a door that was designed to look like part of the wall.

Dotty squeezed Dom's arm. “In that case, you won't mind if we look around and talk to the women. After all, it is early for customers.”