“Dallying with the servants?” Daniel shook his head in disapproval. “Can’t say as that’s good sport.”
“It can be.” Remington chuckled as he straightened. “There’s my choice for the evening.” The viscount stood and walked away without a backward glance toward a woman who’d been brought into the room, her gaze shifting nervously.
The woman who’d accompanied her whispered something in her ear and gave her arm a firm tug.
The girl reluctantly nodded and forced a smile at Remington.
Daniel’s thoughts whirled with what he could do to interrupt whatever the viscount had planned for the poor girl.
“Here’s Mary, ready to show you a good toss.”
Daniel stood as the two women briefly blocked his view of Remington only to catch sight of the viscount moving toward the stairs.
“How delightful,” he managed and forced himself to look at Mary.
Her eyes were wide with fear as she stared at him.
“Take him to your room, Mary. Show him all you’ve learned. I’m sure he’ll make it worth your while.”
Daniel raised his glass with a nod to acknowledge her comment then offered his arm to Mary. “Shall we?”
She took it reluctantly, earning her a glare from both Anne and the guard.
“Remember to behave, Mary, else you’ll have Mr. Finch upset with you again,” Anne advised. “You don’t want that, do you?”
“No, ma’am.” Mary escorted Daniel toward the stairs, her entire body trembling.
Though he wished to reassure her, he couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t also cause her alarm, and therefore the guards as well.
“Who was the woman who went upstairs ahead of us?” he asked.
Mary glanced at him. “Lizzie. Why?”
“Where’s her room?”
“Above mine,” she said as she led the way to the second closed door in the corridor. She paused a moment before opening it and stepping inside, leaving him to follow.
The bed took up most of the space and a chest sat at the foot of it. Narrow bedside tables stood on either side of the bed.
“I-I would be happy to help you with your shoes.” She pointed to the chest as if to suggest he sit there while she did so.
“That won’t be necessary. We’ll soon be leaving.”
“I’m sorry?” She stared at him, her wide eyes expressing her confusion.
He strode toward the single window, noting the bars which he’d seen from outside. They appeared to be firmly attached.
“Do you remember me telling you that Beatrice is a friend of mine?” He studied the chamber, wishing he could find something to use as a weapon—a loose board or the like. But the room held nothing that would aid him.
“Beatrice?” Mary repeated.
“Yes.” Though he’d rather Mary wasn’t drugged, perhaps her sluggish wits would keep her calm during their escape. “She would like to see you.”
“Beatrice is here?”
“Not here. But I’m going to take you to her.”
Mary shook her head with a frown. “Mr. Finch won’t like that. I shouldn’t go with you.”
“We’re just going to see Beatrice. He won’t mind.” The task ahead was daunting. How was he going to escape with Mary without alarming the guards? Was there any other trouble he could stir before he went? “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll return shortly and then I’ll take you to Beatrice.”
“I should’ve gone with her.”
“You can tell her that when you see her.” He held her shoulders and guided her toward the bed. “Can you sit here and wait for me?”
“You are supposed to stay with me. Else I’ll get in trouble.”
“It’s all right. I’ll return directly.” He pushed her onto the bed and patted her shoulder. “Stay quiet and wait for me. Do you understand?”
At her nod, he returned to the door and opened it quietly then glanced up and down the corridor. He looked once more at Mary and held a finger to his lips, hoping she’d remain quiet. Then he closed the door behind him and strode toward the back stairs.
From what Beatrice had told him, these led to the kitchen. Additional guards or servants might be there. But so might Finch.
He kept to the side of the stairs as he descended, hoping to avoid any creaks. Male voices became audible as he neared the bottom. What better way to ensure their escape than to disable the guards to prevent them from giving chase?
He reached the landing and eased near the corner to what he assumed was the kitchen. A glance revealed two men at the large trestle table talking. Neither of them was Finch.
With a deep breath, he walked casually into the room and smiled. “I’m in need of some assistance.”
One man slowly rose. “With what?”
“Where does Finch keep the money you take in each evening?”
The other man at the table glanced at the wooden box on the small table near the door that led to the reception room.
“That will do nicely. Thank you.” Daniel walked toward it.
“Here now. What do you think you’re doing?” the standing man demanded.
“Just taking a little something for one of the women.” Daniel had nearly reached the box.
“Get away from there.” He lunged forward to grab Daniel.
Daniel spun and landed a well-placed blow to his chin, putting him out cold.
The other man jerked to his feet and scrambled toward Daniel. Two blows saw the man joining his companion. Daniel grabbed the notes out of the box and tucked them in a pocket as he ran up the stairs to the top floor of the brothel and pounded on every door. “Fire! Fire!”
Then he rushed back down the stairs as shouts and cries filled the air. He reached Mary’s chamber and opened the door. “Time to call on Beatrice.”
He took her hand and hurried down the rear stairs once more, pulling her along with him.
The men on the floor were stirring but he paid them no mind. He opened the back door and rushed out as shouts of fire continued to fill the brothel. He grabbed a loose brick from the walkway and wedged it between the doorknob and jamb, hoping it would delay his pursuers, then climbed the steps to
