She made a dismissive pffting sound, which had his fists clenching to stop from reaching for her. Ambrose wasn’t sure if he’d shake her or hold her close.
“Where are your parents? I doubt they would approve of your reckless actions.”
She ignored his question and tended the girl, but Ambrose would be asking it again when he had her full attention.
His eyes settled on the back of her ugly brown bonnet. The long coat matched and hid the lush figure beneath.
The soft moan had him moving slightly to look at the woman lying on the bed. Tilly was stroking the hair back from her forehead.
“That’s it now. Open your eyes, Ruby.”
She was oblivious to the dirt under her knees and the squalid conditions. Her only worry was for this young broken woman. A reluctant surge of admiration swept through him.
His sisters were good people, but would they do this? Come here and save a woman? Violet, definitely, but maybe not the other two.
“Miss Wilson,” the woman whispered, trying to rise.
“Now, Ruby, you just lie still, please. We don’t want you fainting again,” Tilly said, holding her in place. “Can you tell me what your dog’s name is so I can calm his fears?”
She was smiling now. Gentle and sweet, neither of which she was with him. It made her look softer, and Ambrose felt a perverse need to make her look at him that way.
“B-Barnaby. It was my father’s name,” she whispered.
“Well, that’s a fine name for a fine dog. Now, Ruby, I needyou to tell me what has happened to you so we know how we can help,” Tilly said in a no-nonsense voice.
Ruby, looked up at Ambrose. He forced his lips into a tight smile. He wanted Tilly out of here before trouble came calling, which it would when the locals realized two people from the world beyond the East End borders were here.
“This is Ambrose. He is a friend,” Tilly said. “He wants to help you as I do.”
A huge lie, but he didn’t challenge her on it.
“Who hurt you?” Tilly asked.
Looking down, he noted the dog was about to eat the paper, and he didn’t think that was healthy, even for a dog, so Ambrose picked it up out of his reach. The dog glared at him.
“Dill. A man. He wants me to be his girl, but I don’t want to. I had packed my things, but before I could leave to come to The Iris Club, he came here to force me,” Ruby said in a weak voice.
“A man did this to you?” Ambrose demanded.
Tilly shot him a look that told him to gentle his tone.
“Y-yes. So you see, I can’t work for you,” Ruby whispered. “He broke two of my fingers because I told him I was leaving to work as a seamstress for a real lady.”
“Bastard,” Tilly hissed.
Ambrose thought there was a special place in hell for a man who would inflict such pain on someone as vulnerable as Ruby.
“Barnaby bit him hard enough to get him to leave, but I’ve been scared to go in case he is lurking nearby,” she whispered.
Which likely meant she’d been existing on little food, as had the dog. Ambrose hated when his life of indulgence slapped him hard in the face, like it did now. He had so much, and others, like Ruby, so little.
A loud thud on the door had Barnaby growling.
“The door. Lock it,” Ruby said quickly, but it was too late. It was already opening.
A large brute of a man entered. He stopped just inside the door and looked at them, assessing them as a possible threat to what he wanted.
“Dill, I presume,” Ambrose said, eyeing the villain.
