Page 85 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

Under Tom’s guidance, they visited a vendor’s cart piled high with articles of clothing, coming away with rough jackets, trousers and caps to replace their own. Even Desmond’s plain serge jacket had to be exchanged for something with a patched sleeve.

The shopping spree was followed by a meal at an inn, where Tom put away an astonishing amount of food for a lad his size, keeping up his impertinent chatter all the while. Then, finally, fed and dressed in their worst, they took their carriage to the docks, stopping at some distance from their first two destinations, which stood across the road from each other. Hands in pockets, heads down in the cold, they tromped along the street to the Bell and Anchor. Its sign was barely visible in the evening gloom, all the paint having long worn off it, but after missing it once, they turned into the tavern on a second try. Small, dark and cramped, the room was not the most pleasing of prospects, but at least it was half-empty, the evening’s drinking having barely begun.

The ale Desmond ordered for them turned out to be barely drinkable, and as the evening wore on, they managed to pour as much into a nearby spittoon as they drank themselves. Gradually the place filled up. It was annoyingly dark and smoke hazed the air, making it difficult to distinguish the features of the other customers. More than once Desmond made his way to the tap so that he could get a closer look at a face.

“How long do you think we should wait before we try one of the others?” Reed asked.

“Feels like we’ve already been here half the night.”

“A little over an hour,” Desmond countered, keeping his gaze on the door. It opened and a small form slipped in. “Um, your lad just came in.”

“What?” Reed turned to look and saw Tom making his way toward them. “Damn.”

“Guv.” The boy tipped his hat.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait in the carriage?”

“Aye, but I thought you’d want to know I saw three of them warehouse blokes going into the Double Roses. There was another big man with them, only he wasn’t wearing the uniform. He took off his bowler, and I saw his hair in the light. It’s blond.”

“Let’s go.” Theo stood up. “Much more of this swill, and my stomach will revolt.”

Tom led them along the street and through the door of the tavern. It was larger than the other one and noisier, though equally filled with smoke. Tom sidled up to Desmond and whispered, “That’s them against that wall.” He nodded discreetly toward a table where several men sat. Three were dressed in dark uniforms. “Those lumps in their pockets are cudgels.”

Desmond nodded and wound his way through the crowd, not looking toward the table in question as he circled it at a distance. Behind him, Reed and Theo separated, closing in on the same spot from different directions. Desmond moved closer. The man’s face was turned away—he was talking to one of his companions. He laughed and turned back, his gaze falling on Desmond.

The man stiffened, recognizing Desmond at the same instant Desmond identified him. Desmond started forward. From the corner of his eye, he could see the Morelands do the same. With a roar, their quarry jumped up, overturning the table and sending mugs and ale flying, and ran for the door. Desmond started after him, but the man’s companions had all surged to their feet, as well. They were cursing, and looking around, blocking his way.

But as Desmond shoved his way through the men, Theo stepped into the fleeing man’s path and knocked him down. The man Desmond had thrust aside turned with a snarl and swung at him. Desmond ducked and came up to hit him in the gut. Reed charged into the fray, and Tom jumped onto a chair to break a glass of ale over another guard’s head.

In an instant the room plunged into chaos.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

THISBE PACED UP and down in front of the fireplace. Aside from her father and great-uncle, all the men she loved were in danger, and as the evening wore on, she cursed her decision not to accompany them. Desmond had tricked her into it with logic—which only went to show how wily the man was. She wasn’t sure that she could trust Desmond, but she knew that her heart would break if anything happened to him.

Thisbe did not care to examine that whole line of thinking. It was confusing and irrational. However, she was certain that in moments like these, she should go with her heart rather than her head.

“It’s been hours. Where could they be?”

“I’m sure they’re having a grand time chasing this fellow all around the East End. What they will accomplish is another matter entirely,” her grandmother replied witheringly. She was seated on one of the many uncomfortable chairs in the formal drawing room, back ramrod straight and cane planted on the floor in front of her, her hands wrapped around its neck. She reminded Thisbe of a knight resting on his sword.

It would not have been Thisbe’s preference to have her grandmother’s company as she waited for the men to come home, but she had to admit that the dowager duchess’s indomitable confidence helped to steady her own frayed nerves.

“Perhaps we should—” Thisbe began, breaking off at the sudden clatter in the entryway, followed by a footman’s startled exclamation.

She started forward, but before she could reach the door, her brothers and Desmond reeled through the door, followed by a disheveled boy. Thisbe gasped at their appearance, and her grandmother said, “Well, you are a sorry sight indeed.”

The duchess was right. Reed was limping, half-supported by Theo, and Desmond swayed as he stood. Their rough, ill-fitting clothes—which they had not been wearing when they left the house this afternoon—were ripped and covered in grime, and their hair was equally disordered and dirty. Dried blood ran down the side of Theo’s face and his hair was matted with it; Reed’s cheek was red and one eye was beginning to swell; and Desmond had a lump on his forehead and a cut on his swollen jaw. All of them sported scrapes and the beginnings of bruises, and they reeked of ale.

“Desmond!” Thisbe cried out and started toward him, then stopped. Drawing a deep breath, she went on more calmly, “What happened to you?”

“And how did you manage to acquire a street urchin?” Cornelia raised her lorgnette and focused her gaze on the boy.

“That’s Tom Quick, Grandmother,” Reed said, his words a trifle slurred. “I am sending him to school.”

“Mmm. I would have thought the aim would have been to improve him.”

“Yes, well...” Reed swung toward the boy, and his sudden movement made both him and Theo stagger.