How could she have thought her life had reached its lowest point when she’d left her father’s grave to board the coach to bring her to London? Now she was lost with nothing to her name, nowhere to go, and no one to help her. Tears blurred her vision as despair replaced the panic.
Mayhap she should’ve stayed at the brothel. A night or two on these rough streets might see her dead.
DANIEL WALKER NARROWED his eyes at the ghostly apparition drifting toward him on the darkened street. Perhaps he’d had more to drink at the club than he realized.
Though he often walked home to wear off the effects of spirits he imbibed as well as to clear his thoughts before seeking his bed, never had he come upon an ethereal figure on the streets. Ruffians and a footpad or two, certainly. Those he welcomed as a way to test his fighting skills, much to the dismay of Pierre, his French valet, and savate instructor.
Daniel couldn’t explain his need to prove himself, but it simmered inside him all the same.
He could only hope his brother, Richard, the Earl of Aberland, never learned of his paltry attempts to ascertain his self-worth. Richard had served as a spy for England, something Daniel hadn’t learned until the war had been nearly over. The realization that his brother hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him still caused a pang of hurt. That lack of trust was undoubtedly one of the reasons behind his need to verify his worthiness.
Daniel slowed his steps as the apparition staggered then stopped, floating to the pavement. The crescent moon didn’t provide enough light to see much, and the streetlight was too far away.
He glanced about, wondering if this could be a trick by a footpad or the like, but no one seemed to lurk in the shadows. A low moan from the figure drew him nearer if only to ease his curiosity. He didn’t believe in ghosts yet couldn’t deny that the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Something was afoot.
Keeping a wary eye on his surroundings, he continued forward until he reached the white form. Awareness dawned that it was a woman in a nightrail, an odd sight given the fact that he wasn’t walking near Covent Gardens or the other rough parts of the city where prostitutes plied their trade.
“Miss? Are you unwell?” Had she overindulged in gin or was she hurt?
She gasped at his words and bolted upright with jerky movements, leaning against the wall of the building as she swayed slightly, one hand extended toward him with her palm out. “Leave me be.”
The cultured tone of her speech suggested she was an educated lady. Her shuddering breath told of a traumatic experience. He couldn’t begin to guess what had brought her to this street in such a state of dishabille. The scent of liquor didn’t taint her breath. He glanced over her, though the darkness hid the details of her features. She wore nothing on her feet, and he was careful to avoid studying the thin gown overmuch regardless of the darkness.
Despite her demand, he couldn’t leave her there. “Are you in trouble? Do you need assistance?”
To his shock, she dropped her hand and started crying, her entire body trembling. She looked over her shoulder with alarm. “They might be looking for me.”
“Who?”
“I must hurry.” She lurched forward as if to brush past him.
He grabbed her arm to halt her. “Who is looking for you?”
“Finch. The guards. I can’t return there.” She glanced about wildly then jerked free of his grasp.
“Allow me to help.” Daniel didn’t understand who she was or what had happened, but the woman was clearly frightened and in need of aid.
“Help? You?” The doubt in her tone irritated him. Her wide eyes locked on his, but their color remained a secret. Then she released a breath and her body crumpled.
Daniel managed to lift her into his arms before she hit the ground, relieved to hear her shallow breathing. Mayhap she was ill, though the state of her attire was concerning as was her fear. What could he do but take her to safety? He walked toward the nearest hackney coach stand a block away, keeping an eye out to see if anyone followed, but no one did.
The sight of a waiting hackney filled him with gratitude. The woman hadn’t woken, and he wasn’t certain how much farther he could carry her even though she was slim.
“Here now,” the driver demanded in alarm as he caught sight of Daniel. “What do ye think ye’re doin’?”
“Taking a lady to safety.”
Before the man could protest, Daniel reached for the carriage door and gave his address, advising the driver to hurry, then stepped inside. Only after he’d settled into the conveyance with his burden did he wonder whether it wise to bring the lady to his townhome. If anyone saw them, the woman’s reputation could be ruined—if it wasn’t already. Yet where else could he take her?
The idea of waking Richard and his wife, Caroline, who was with child, in the middle of the night seemed unwise. Especially since he didn’t know anything about the woman. Was she of sound mind? Or perhaps she truly was a prostitute, in which case her reputation was past protecting. He would know soon enough he supposed.
Within a quarter of an hour, he arrived home. The driver assisted him to alight, and Daniel carried the unconscious woman to his front door where Pierre opened it before he could knock.
“Sir?” His valet stared in shock at the form in Daniel’s arms.
“Pay the driver then assist me, would you?” Daniel ignored Pierre’s hesitation and made his way up the stairs toward the guest room.
To his credit, Pierre did as Daniel bid
