There were times when Daniel wondered who was truly in charge in their relationship. Though he might pay Pierre’s wages, the man had strong opinions on most every topic and didn’t hesitate to share them.
Though Daniel wouldn’t admit it, Pierre was right. He’d been distracted since Beatrice’s arrival in his life. His days were spent thinking of her in one way or another. He was either planning a way to learn more about those involved in taking her, or he was wondering how she was faring at his brother’s house. He was pleased she and Caroline were getting along well, but that didn’t keep his thoughts from the lovely lady. What had she decided about her future?
“Are we going or are we just standing here?” Pierre asked.
There he was, distracted by her again. “Going.” After making certain no one watched, he led the way across the street.
The wrought-iron fence around the small garden was tall, but he quickly scaled it with Pierre directly behind him. This close to the house, laughter and voices could be heard. Anger speared through him. How dare they enjoy themselves while some of the women upstairs were either quaking with fear or had lost all hope and no longer cared what happened?
He clenched his jaw. Now wasn’t the time to allow anger to guide him. That would have to wait until he was doing more than merely observing. He told himself that gathering information before acting was the responsible way to approach the situation. But that didn’t keep him from feeling like it was a waste of time.
The hedges growing alongside the house made looking in the windows difficult. He couldn’t get close enough to see through the small crack between the drapes.
“Allow me.” Pierre bent down and clasped his hands together, creating a foothold.
Daniel stepped onto it, and Pierre lifted him above the hedge. Balancing as best he could with one hand braced against the house, he peeked inside. The chamber appeared to be a reception area. From what little Daniel knew, customers were offered drinks while they decided which woman they wanted, or were assigned a woman based on their preferences. Some brothels allowed the men to choose the hair color or body type of the women they wanted.
He sighed, realizing there had been times in his younger days when he’d treated women too cavalierly, focusing on his own wants and needs rather than the woman’s. Not that he’d ever resorted to using the services of a brothel.
The men inside were of all types and sizes. Women dressed in little more than their chemise and stays walked about, smiling and conversing with the men. A more mature woman, perhaps in her forties, wandered the room, dressed in a fine gown. Could this be Mrs. Cole, the madam? Beatrice had mentioned her, and the thought of Beatrice and Mary retching on the woman made him smile.
“Shift me to the left,” he ordered Pierre.
His valet did so, allowing Daniel to catch a glimpse of the doorway of the chamber. A large man stood at the entrance, watching with little interest. Daniel guessed him to be a guard. Would Finch be in attendance or did he leave the evenings for the madam to manage?
“To the right now,” he whispered to Pierre.
“Humph.”
Daniel knew he was running out of time based on Pierre’s response, but the valet shifted once again. The effort was worthwhile. A man stood at the opposite end of the room with pale blue eyes and an air of authority about him. He ignored the scantily clad women for the most part, so obviously he wasn’t a customer. The calculating look in his eyes suggested he counted pounds as he glanced about.
The man tipped his head at the nicely dressed woman, and she immediately changed course to walk toward a gentleman, placing her arm through his with a smile. Apparently, she was attempting to convince him of something, for he shook his head several times before at last nodding. She patted him on the arm as if to reward him then raised a brow at the man with the light blue eyes.
Suddenly those chilling eyes shifted to the window as if a movement or the like had caught his notice. He frowned and strode quickly forward.
Daniel tapped Pierre on the shoulder to indicate he could lower him. Then he gripped Pierre’s arm and dragged him to the ground alongside him with the hope of hiding them both.
“What is it?” Pierre asked in barely a whisper.
“I might’ve been seen.” Daniel risked a glance up at the window in time to see the man he assumed was Finch pull the drapes aside and look out. Though his heart pounded at the chance of being caught, he was pleased to have had a good look at the man. He’d recognize him anywhere.
Finch backed up and was gone from view.
“That was close,” Daniel muttered as he gestured for Pierre to follow him. “Let us go.”
Then he heard voices raised in alarm from the front of the brothel.
“That can’t be good,” Pierre muttered.
Daniel veered course and moved toward the rear of the garden as quickly as he dared, hands out before him to keep him from plunging into an unseen shrub.
He reached the fence and managed to climb up it as the voices grew louder. He stretched down to grasp Pierre’s hand to assist him up the fence. Then together, they both jumped down.
They now stood in the alleyway from what little Daniel could see. He kept to one side, walking as quickly as he dared in the night, the quiet sound of Pierre behind him reassuring.
“Where are they?” a voice asked. Though not loud, it came from closer than Daniel would’ve liked. Yet running wasn’t a possibility until they had more light to see by.
Another voice answered the first one, this one muffled.
Daniel’s steps slowed as they entered complete darkness. Just when he thought they’d have
