She nodded then hurried away.
“What is it?” Ginny demanded, her shrill tone returning with a vengeance. She rubbed her hands over her sleeve-covered arms.
He slipped out of his coat and set it across her shoulders. “Find your parents. Let them know we are leaving.”
“Virginia!” The baroness had the nose of a bloodhound when it came to finding her.
“We do have all the luck,” he said under his breath.
“Over here, Mother.”
“Two waltzes in one night with the same man?” Her mother’s fan worked furiously. “That is unconscionable.”
“Lady Wimbley, how fortuitous to see you.” Brock instantly took charge, and Ginny was glad for it. “Lady Maudsley and I need to leave immediately. There’s no need for you and the baron to leave. I’ll see her home.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” she responded, outraged.
“I’m going with him, Mother.”
Her mother looked them over in a long silence. “Your father and I will follow shortly.” She eyed Brock’s long tailcoat covering Ginny. “I’ll get your wrap for you. No need to wait. It appears you won’t need it. The two of you can exit from here.”
“Lady Wimbley, perhaps you could see if you can learn where Maudsley’s vessel is docked? Quietly, of course.”
“Is that all you need? His ship is theWhite Dove. It’s docked at the Southwark docks. He trades in timber.” She sniffed, her disgust evident. “That shall have to change if he is to take his rightful place in society.”
Dumbfounded was the only way to describe Brock’s expression. “You’re certain, Lady Wimbley?”
“Certainly,” she returned, affronted. “You don’t think I’d push my daughter into another match without learning all I could about an eligible suitor? Once was quite enough.” She turned on her heel and strode away.
Amusement tipped his lips. “She’s quite, er, formidable, isn’t she?”
“Quite.” Ginny stared after her mother’s straight spine as she disappeared inside, reflecting on her words. “Something tells me she’s forgotten I’m no longer some green innocent fresh from the schoolroom.”
He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
She grabbed it. “Of course.”
Thirty-Four
I
rene Elizabeth Ennis was terrified. When she was kidnapped the year before, she’d been drugged and hadn’t remembered being taken. Mr. Farcle sat across from her now in the foul-smelling hackney. She knew she’d never outrun him. He was much larger than Lord Griston. She glanced out the window, but she could detect no recognizable landmarks. So even if she escaped her fate, it might be worse. Wherever Mr. Farcle was taking her, there might be someone to whom she could appeal.
She forced her fingers to remain lightly clasped and willed her face blank.
“Middleton’s never gonna believe you a street urchin,” he muttered.
Her eyes dropped to her nightgown. He was right. It was too clean, she thought, remembering that young boy who’d tried stealing Celia’s locket. He’d likely never had a bath in the whole of his life. Thinking of the younger sister she was likely to never see again had her eyes welling with tears. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, willing back the tears. Mother was forever telling her to have faith. If anyone could find her, it was Lord Brockway. Hadn’t he saved Mama when Papa had hurt her so badly?
She prayed a silent plea for Lord Brockway to find her. Notably, her lack of reaction to these evildoers made her a conundrum to them. It might well be her only defense. If she were killed, she would die with dignity, she promised herself, stiffening her spine.
Mr. Farcle rapped on the ceiling, and the carriage drew to a halt. He took her chin between his fingers and pressed, forcing her eyes to his. “You stay here. If you make a run for it, I’ll leave you be. You won’t last long in this part of town.”
Irene nodded, unable to think of a suitable reply.
He slipped out, said something to the driver, and within minutes, jumped back in with his hand full of…
He dumped a handful of mud all over her white gown. “Spread it around,” he barked. “Or I’ll do it for you.” He rapped on the ceiling, and once more they set in motion.
