“None of that, missy,” one of the men said in a low tone. “We only want a look at your wares.”
Wares? “I’m not selling anything,” said Lydia. The men exchanged glances and burst out laughing. Lydia recoiled from the raucous noise and the nauseating odors.
The man sporting a mustache, the one who had held his hand over her mouth, stopped laughing first. He placed a hand on the curve of her neck and shoulder and forced her chin up with his thumb. “Give me a light here,” he said. In short order a match was struck and the meager light was thrust in Lydia’s face. Her features were illuminated, revealing a heart-shaped face, grave, rebellious eyes, the sulky lower lip of her widely cut mouth, and a glowing rain-washed complexion.
Lydia blew out the match. After a stunned silence, both men laughed again. “She’s not so bad as I first thought,” the mustached man said to his friend. “A little plain, perhaps, but in the dark one cat’s not so different from another.” He leaned closer to Lydia. “I’d say by the way you pucker those lips, you have something worth selling.”
She blanched, realizing now what they had meant by her wares. “You’re mistaken,” she said quietly, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. “I’m not what you think.”
The clean-shaven man, the brawnier of the two, chuckled deeply and managed a touch of sarcasm as he spoke. “And I suppose we just didn’t follow you out of Miss Bailey’s?”
“Well, yes, perhaps you did, but I—”
“But you don’t know what Miss Bailey’s place is,” he suggested, patently skeptical. “Is that it?”
“No...of course I know, but you don’t—”
“Enough chatter,” Mustache interrupted. “I still want a taste of those lips.”
Lydia ducked, averting her face, and pushed out between the men at the level of their waists. Surprise was on her side, for neither of the men anticipated her escape. Sprinting toward the lights from the cross street that intersected the alley, Lydia yanked up her skirt and petticoats and ran with her head bowed against the wind…and came to a breathless halt when she ran full tilt into a wall.
At least she thought it was a wall until it reached out to steady her. She struggled against the arms that held her upright, supporting and imprisoning her in the same embrace, but they were like ribbons of steel across the small of her back. Lydia twisted, butting the hard chest with her head. She heard a soft groan as her captor rocked on his feet and was forced to take a few stumbling steps backward to regain his balance. Just at the moment she thought she was free, Lydia felt herself spun around, her arms crossed in front of her and held in a basket carry that locked her elbows and secured her wrists in a viselike grip.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” The grating whisper just behind her left ear was punctuated by a rough little shake that demanded her full attention. The voice raised itself a notch and addressed the other men in the alley in clear, even tones. “You’re not going to hurt her either, are you, gentlemen?”
Lydia looked up and faced the men who had cornered her moments earlier. They were slowly backing away.Good,she thought,they’re afraid of this stranger.Then she wondered if she had more to fear from him as well.
“Never were going to hurt her,” the broad-shouldered one said. “Just having a little fun. No harm in taking a kiss.”
“There is when it’s not given freely,” the stranger replied. “Now get out of here before I decide to let her go and settle the score with the two of you.”
The pair seemed to measure the threat and decide it was a real one. They turned quickly and ran back the way they’d come, kicking up raindrops in their wake.
The hold on Lydia didn’t loosen right away. Panic welled inside her and took the form of a hard knot in her throat. She made a tentative move against the hands that held her wrists.
“Easy now.” The words were said softly and meant to gentle. The grip was eased. “Are you all right?”
Lydia freed herself completely and stepped away, rubbing her wrists. She didn’t bother answering the question. The man was distracted, looking past her and into the depths of the dark alley. For a moment Lydia thought the others had returned. She moved closer to the stranger for safety.
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“But you thought you saw something.”
He didn’t deny it. He’d seen something, and he hadn’t lied. Itwasnothing. A soft hiccup drew his attention. “You’re soaked through,” he said. Thanks to holding her against him, so was he. “Let’s get out of this rain.”
The suggestion startled Lydia. “Oh, no. I couldn’t go anywhere with you.” She bit her lip, belatedly realizing how ungrateful she sounded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…I’m in a hurry, you see. I have to get home. My parents will be worried.”
“They’ll be more worried when they see you like this. Your dress is ripped.” He lifted his hand and pointed to the base of her throat.
Lydia’s fingers flew to her collar. Her brooch had been torn away and the lace trimming along the high, modest neckline was hanging raggedly. “My shawl,” she said, looking around for some sign of it. “It caught on my brooch and—”
“I think I see it over there.” He took her hand and pulled her back into the pitch-black center of the alley.
He must have eyes like a hawk,she thought as he scooped up the shawl. She was certain she couldn’t have found it. Lydia waited for it to be thrust into her hands.
“It’s filthy,” he said.
The trace of disgust in his tone, as if he didn’t like having his hands soiled, brought a smirk to Lydia’s lips. “I’ll take it,” she said. “I don’t mind a little dirt.”
