“You don’t even know her!”
The anger was back again. Tilly knew some of that reaction was actually concern for her safety, but she had come this far and would not return without at least trying to find Ruby.
“I don’t take orders from you, sir.”
He leaned in closer, and she caught his scent of damp wool and a hint of citrus. Clean and fresh, it was the smell of a man who did not make a London slum his home.
“You do if you are deliberately being reckless or placing yourself in danger.”
“I have a father who looks after me,” she hissed back.
He made a show of looking around them. “And yet I see neither him nor your maid.”
“They’re busy,” she gritted out. “I’m done bandying words with you. Good day.”
“No.” Just the one word, and he was beside her as shewalked away. His shoulder brushing hers. “I will allow this, but only until I think it is a danger to you, Tilly. Then I will throw you over my shoulder should I need to.”
“I’d like to see you bloody try!”
That made him snort, but he instantly sobered. “I have terrible visions of what would have happened to you had I not seen you when I did.”
“I would have been all right. I’m resourceful,” she countered quickly.
“Even you cannot subdue a man who is intent on harming you or a group of children who want to steal your things.”
“Leave me alone.” Tilly increased her pace. Seeing two young boys coming toward her, she stepped in front of them. “Excuse me, can you tell me where Flower and Dean Street is? I am looking for Miss Ruby Little.”
The boys didn’t appear to want to answer her, and then their eyes rose and widened. She knew who they were looking at, and it vexed Tilly that he could get a response from them but she could not.
“There,” one of them said, pointing to a narrow lane on her right. “First building, and take the stairs three stories. It’s number 32.”
Opening her reticule, she was about to give them some coins, when a large, leather-clad hand reached forward and did so first.
“You do not have to be so—so…” She couldn’t find the words.
“Kind?”
She wanted to yell something in his face, but instead, she walked into the street.
A man stepped into her path with a cocky grin on his face. “Hello there, darling. You look like you’re a long way from home?”
“Step aside, if you please.”
“Now don’t be hasty.” He ran a finger down one of Tilly’s cheeks.
Before Ambrose could react, she’d slapped the hand aside, and then she brought up her knee into the man’s groin. “I said, step aside!” She said the words to the top of his head as he was bent in half, groaning. She then stomped in the direction of Flower and Dean Street.
“Well done.”
The deep words came from over her left shoulder. Tilly ignored them, and entered the lane. Reaching the stairs, she started to climb.
“Be alert, Tilly.”
As if she could be anything else with him behind her.
She climbed, passing people on the way and apologizing constantly as she attempted to navigate around them. Finally, Tilly was on the third floor. Walking along the narrow corridor, she studied the numbers on the doors until she found 32. She raised a hand and knocked.
“You’ll stand beside me now, Tilly.”
