Page 58 of Forgotten No More

“Nah,” she mumbled. “I can make my own way home.”

Ruby was torn between staying to make sure Ellie returned home safety, or keeping hold of Harold and allowing him to take care of her. When Marce nodded from the open doorway behind Ellie, Ruby knew the young girl would not come to harm.

Smiling, she looked up at Harold, whose eyes held only concern for her. “Shall we go? I find myself exhausted and in need of a restful night.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Chapter 23

With the immediate danger behind them, Harold couldn’t deposit Ruby fast enough. Only one thing dominated his mind: Finding Rodney and beating the pulp out of the bloody scoundrel. How dare he put Ruby in harm’s way and then leave her to her own devices? His blood boiled thinking of the consequences for her because Rodney had somehow involved himself.

His boots echoed down the hall and servants ducked into other rooms as he passed. He could only imagine the fury they saw on his face; he was a volcano about to erupt, and no one wanted to be near when it happened.

Only question now was where to find the man. It was late, the card games at White’s having wrapped up an hour before. Most of the ton would be departing their evening entertainments shortly.

But Harold’s luck must be improving, because no more had he ran through possible methods of finding the rascal when a hack pulled along the street a house down from Brock’s townhouse and Rodney jumped down, headed toward him.

“Rodney,” Harold called. “You son of a bitch!”

Rodney’s steps faltered and he looked behind him to the hack, moving down the street in search of its next fare of the night. He turned back to Harold, knowing his chance of escape was nil.

“Lovely evening, is it not?” Rodney asked when he was within hearing distance. “A bit chilly, but comfortable.”

“Do not patronize me.”

“Whatever are you speaking of?”

“You know exactly what I am speaking of.” Harold reached forward, taking the front of the man’s coat in his fists, bringing them face to face. “Do not play me for the fool.”

Rodney flinched, his hands clamped over Harold’s as he attempted to peel his fingers from their hold. “What were you thinking?” Harold continued. “She could have been seriously hurt—or worse yet, discovered.”

The scoundrel pushed against Harold. “Unhand me. I have only just arrived in town, and have no idea what you are speaking about.”

“The hell you don’t.” So many emotions flooded Harold. The man was a crook if he’d ever seen one, always with the lies and manipulation. “Nothing has changed since we were children.”

“I fear you are correct. You’re still riding the coattails of my cousin, living off his wealth and status.”

Harold drew his fist back, ready to pummel the man. Rodney had avoided the fist aimed at him earlier, but there was no escape for him now. Harold had years of pent-up anger to get out, and at the moment all of it was aimed at this very man. As a child, Rodney had ridiculed him, belittled him, and antagonized him unmercifully. Nothing had changed as they’d moved into adulthood. Every occasion they met, the man went out of his way to disparage Harold, frequently embarrassing him in front of others.

He’d never been a fighter, but Harold would crush the man responsible for the bruise on Ruby’s face.

“Harold.” The frantic female scream broke through his fury. “Harold, let him go.”

“Yes, Harold. Do release me this instant.” Harold’s grip relaxed and Rodney chuckled. “Now run along like a good little boy and hide.”

Harold released Rodney’s coat and pushed him away, not trusting he wouldn’t still put his fist through the man’s face—something he knew he must avoid doing in the presence of Lady Haversham.

“Be gone,” he called after Rodney. “Be advised this is not over.”

“What is going on here?” Brock asked. The pair stood outside their carriage, having arrived home from their evening activities. “Where did Rodney come from? I was unaware he was in town.”

Harold took a moment to calm himself before responding. He breathed in and out several times to settle his racing heart. He knew Rodney was not particularly welcome at the Haversham townhouse when Brock and Lady Haversham were in residence—not since he’d tried to blackmail Brock’s wife before they were married.

Regaining his composure, Harold searched for an explanation for Brock, which would also soothe Lady Haversham. The truth was out of the question, for it would call into issue both himself and Ruby.

Lady Haversham stood next to Brock, a look of fright on her face and her hand gently pressed against her swollen abdomen.

He felt accountable for her dismay. After a long evening out she must be fatigued.