My brother-in-law, Tavis, was still dying. He’d gambled badly and was now paying with his life. I folded my arms about me and thought about turning back. Instead, I spun around, a complete circle, and kept walking.
A man from the other side of the river barreled across Blackfriars Bridge like he chased cannonballs. I swirled to the left, moving closer to the side of the road that hugged the Thames.
The fellow on a beautiful silver horse didn’t pass by. He stopped in front of me.
“Miss. Excuse me.” His glare demanded my attention. I hated men expecting to have my time because my family chose to live on this side of the Thames, close to industry.
The road might as well be Wilcox Way, not Ground Street. Our house, offices, and warehouses were located down the lane.
“Miss, you must help me.”
I gawked at him and his expensive charcoal-colored coat and hat.
Whenever I made coal deliveries with Mr. Thom, men like this, wealthy and important-looking souls, insisted upon speaking. In the next breath, they solicited for companionship.
Not today of all days. I couldn’t be bothered and sidestepped.
The fellow maneuvered closer. “Did you hear me, miss? Is all well?”
“Yes. And I’m not a prostitute. Go away.”
His jaw dropped.
He put a gloved hand to his thin mustache. “I suppose I’m glad you’re not.”
“Good.” I spun and walked the other direction away from the man, away from death.
“Miss, you’re a Wilcox? That sassy tongue can only be inherited through the blood.”
“I’m a proud Wilcox woman.” I stared but couldn’t recall his face. “Who are you?”
“Jahleel Charles, the Duke of Torrance. Your sister sent for me. Lady Hampton said it was a matter of life and death.”
Oh.
The letters Katherine and the doctors begrudgingly wrote succeeded. Tavis begged her to find the duke, his childhood best friend. “Go down the lane, Your Grace. The last house, that’s our house for now . . .”
Sobs filled my throat. Why were the tears coming now? Hadn’t I resolved that we’d lose everything? Oh, I hated that Katherine might be right about me not being able to control my emotions.
Remembering Mama’s dignity, I raised my head and projected my voice. “The end of Ground Street. Please visit number twenty-two. Go now.”
“Your voice is melodic.” He put a finger to lips that were neither thick nor too thin. “Do you sing?”
“My family thinks I can carry a tune, but they are the only ones to ever hear me.” I pointed again. “Katherine is waiting.”
“I know she hates waiting, but I can’t leave you. You’re too upset.”
“Sir, I walk . . . or run or spin when I’m upset.”
“As in a reel?” The duke jumped down and held out his arm. “Then shall we have this walk?”
He bowed to me. “If your sister knew I’d left you in a state, she’d be vexed. We don’t want Lady Hampton vexed. I remember it being a difficult thing to endure.”
Shaking my head, I lowered his arm. “I don’t need protecting, sir . . . Your Grace.”
The man dug into his brass-buttoned greatcoat and offered me his handkerchief. “Perhaps I’m in need. Vexing can be hard to take. Come now. I also hate being late. Dance with me to the house.”
His humor and compassionate tone made me relent. Feeling defeated, I wiped my eyes on his cloth, then started walking beside him.
