She made her way back to the corner of Drury Lane and Princes Street where she’d left Samuel, but as she drew closer to him, she noticed he’d gone still, his face tense, his head turned toward Stanhope Street. “Samuel? Are you—”
That was as far as Emma got before he exploded into motion, his heels striking the street, his long legs devouring the distance between Princes Street andHartford Place.
“Samuel!” Emma ran after him, her heart rushing into her throat.
He didn’t slow at her frantic shriek, but charged passed Hartford Place, ducking instead down the dark, narrow alleyway that led to Bennets Court, a tiny courtyard surrounded on all sides by buildings.
“Samuel, wait!” Emma shot after him, stumbling on the hem of her skirts, but within seconds he was already out of sight. “Samuel?” She came to a breathless halt at the mouth of the alleyway and peered inside. It was dark, so dark, but she thought she saw a flash of movement, then the echoing sound of footsteps, a thud of heels on gritty streets, running—
Emma jumped as a terrified scream rent the air, her heart nearly bursting from her chest. It was coming from the direction of the courtyard beyond, so bloodcurdling every hair on Emma’s neck rose in reaction.
That voice, she knew it—
“Helena!” Emma didn’t hear her own shout, didn’t feel her feet slapping against the filthy street as she dashed down the alleyway, only to come to a screeching halt in the middle of the courtyard, her mouth fallingopen in shock.
Samuel had a howling, thrashing, clawing Helena in his arms. She was incoherent with panic, her face smeared with dirt, the shoulder torn clean off her dress, her lip rapidly swelling, and her neck…
Emma froze in horror.
Bruises, the size and shape of a man’s fingers circled her neck.
Bile flooded Emma’s throat, but she choked it back and darted forward, her arms outstretched. Helena, who was too overwrought to tell the difference between her attacker and her rescuer, was growing more hysterical by the moment, and Samuel wisely relinquished her into Emma’s arms.
“Helena! Helena, it’s me!” After a struggle Emma managed to grab Helena’s chin and force her to still. “Look at me, Helena! It’s Emma.”
“Emma?” Helena’s eyes stopped their panicked rolling, and she snatched at Emma as if she were drowning, her fingernails sinking into Emma’s forearms.
“Yes, dearest. It’s all right. You’re all right.”
Emma patted and crooned and soothed until at last Helena calmed enough to loosen her death grip, whereupon she immediately burst into a storm of hysterical tears.
“I…he grabbed me, Emma, and dragged me—” Helena looked wildly around her. “Dragged mehere, and it’s so dark, and I…I tried to scream, but he put his hand over my mouth, and no onecould hear me!”
“I know, dearest, I know, but you’re all right now, you see?” Helenawasn’tall right, but against all odds, she wasn’t dead, and for now, for this moment, Emma could only feel gratitude for that small mercy.
The anger, the ugly, all-consuming bitterness and fury would come later.
It always did.
Helena grasped Emma’s shoulders with desperate fingers. “The pendant, Emma! You remember, I told you about the pendant? He crept up behind me, so I didn’t see his face, but it washim, the same man who took Caroline! He demanded the pendant, b-but I don’t have it! When I didn’t g-give it to him, h-he grabbed me by the neck, and he…he…”
“Shh. Calm down, and let me takeyou to Daniel.”
But Helena was beyond listening, and the words kept tumbling from her bruised lips. “It wasn’t Lord Lovell, Emma! We were wrong about him. This man is much bigger, much taller. Lord Lovell didn’t take those girls from Lymington House…w-we made a mistake.”
Emma squeezed her eyes closed, praying with everything inside her Samuel hadn’t heard Helena’s words, or by some miracle hadn’t understood them, but before she could even turn her head to look at him, she felt him go unnaturally still beside her.
Helena was still clutching at Emma and babbling incoherently, but Emma didn’t see her, didn’t hear her. For an instant everything went silent as she turned to face Samuel. He was staring at her, his face white but for the blood trickling from his nose, where Helena had struck himwith her elbow.
“Lovell? You thoughtLovellhad…”
He trailed off into silence, but Emma could see the wheels turning behind those dark gray eyes, see him fitting the pieces together.
Emma’s flirtation with Lovell, her interest in Caroline Francis, the snatches of conversation Samuel had overheard between Emma and Helena that first night at the Pink Pearl, the lie she’d told Lady Tremaine to escape the picnic, and later that night, when Samuel had seen her at the brothel once again…
In the time it took Emma to draw a breath, it went from bad to worse. Samuel’s jaw hardened, his hands clenching into fists. Somehow, Emma knew he was recalling their interlude in the rose garden, their yearning kisses in his carriage, their stolen passion at Vauxhall tonight, and drawing his conclusions.
Thewrongconclusions, but before he’d even said a word, she knew he wouldn’t ever believe the kisses they’d shared, the tender moments between them had happened for no other reason than she wanted them.
