“You didn’t offer them a choice,” Daniel managed, struggling to draw a breath.
“Women don’t know what’s best for them. They need a man to show them, preferably while they’re on their back with their legs spread. Why have you been such a thorn in my side? What brings you to my part of the city?”
“Your scheme must end.” A terrible combination of fear and lack of breath narrowed Daniel’s focus.
Finch scoffed. “You are no one. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“Perhaps. But Bow Street—”
“Will do nothing. I have ties to a magistrate who has found it in his best interest to keep the Runners out of my affairs.”
That explained so much. No wonder Hurdy hadn’t managed to arrest Finch. There had to be another way to stop him, by fair means or foul. First Daniel had to gain his freedom.
Finch shifted, the knife pricking deeper, sending a shiver of fear along Daniel’s skin. Was this how his life would end? Finch could kill him now and dump his body with no one the wiser. A cold rush of fear clenched his heart.
But some would know, he reminded himself. Beatrice. Richard. Pierre. The thought of them chased away the chill. He refused to allow fear and doubt to rule his actions. Wasn’t that what he’d been doing with Beatrice? He loved her. There. He’d admitted it. He might have proposed too quickly, but he couldn’t doubt the attraction—the genuine feelings—that had sprung to life between them. He needed to do all in his power to win her heart, no matter how long it took.
With that vow came unexpected clarity.
“Now then—” Finch began.
Before he could finish, Daniel jammed his elbow into Finch’s exposed side where his raised arm held the knife. As the hold around his neck loosened, Daniel spun and drove his fist into Finch’s jaw. A blow to his ribs and a kick to his stomach bent the man in half.
Anger kept Daniel moving. Anger for Beatrice, Mary, Sarah, and all the other nameless women this man had stolen. Daniel rammed his knee into Finch’s face and the man cried out. Several more strikes and kicks had Finch on the ground, unmoving.
One of the other attackers rose, paused briefly to look at Daniel, then limped away. The second one sat up on one elbow, glanced at Finch’s prone form, but remained where he was.
“Hold!” A call came from the street along with the distinct rattle of a watchman’s alarm. Daniel looked up to see a form hurrying toward him, shaking the rattle and a bobbing lantern in one hand with the escaped man held tight in the other. “What’s going on here?”
Daniel raised his hands to show he had no weapon. “These men are involved in a scheme to steal women and force them to work in brothels.”
The watchman drew to a surprised halt as he glanced at the place in question. The fact that he knew which building was the brothel said much. The watchman’s focus shifted to Finch and the other man on the ground.
“Young women,” Daniel continued, determined to make the watchman understand the extent of the crime. “He drugs them and locks them inside to sell to the highest bidders.”
“Those are harsh accusations,” the watchman began as Daniel’s carriage pulled up and another watchman alighted.
“Send word to Thomas Hurdy of Bow Street,” Daniel advised. “He’s familiar with the investigation.”
“Hurdy, eh?” The second watchman joined them. “I know him. Your driver found me not far from here.”
“It looks as if you got the better of these three, despite being outnumbered,” the first watchman said. “Who are you?”
Well over an hour later, after answering numerous questions and providing his name and address, Daniel headed home in the carriage.
Finch and his men had been hauled to jail and the brothel closed. The second watchman had sent a message to Hurdy. Daniel hoped Finch would remain imprisoned for what he’d done.
Though stiff and sore, not to mention the small but painful cut on his neck, Daniel was pleased with the night’s events. He was even more pleased that come morning, he could tell Beatrice of Finch’s arrest. Then he intended to share what was in his heart. He hoped she felt the same. Anticipation filled him at the thought. Daylight couldn’t come soon enough.
He thanked the driver again, tipping him enough to make him stutter his gratitude, then let himself into his townhouse. He was surprised, if relieved, that Pierre wasn’t waiting.
The silence of the house settled over him as he climbed the stairs and opened the door to his bedchamber only to stop short at the sight before him.
A cloth-covered table stood before the still burning fire with several dishes on it along with candles that had burned low. But it was the woman in his bed that brought him closer.
Beatrice lay on her side, fully dressed. His heart melted at the vision she made with her golden hair tousled on his pillow and her cheeks pink with sleep. She looked so different than the night he’d brought her here.
Desire pulsed through him at what he hoped was her intention. To think he’d missed what she’d planned. Well, perhaps he’d only nearly missed it. He was here now, and so was she.
With quiet movements, he removed his boots, tailcoat, and waistcoat then washed his hands and face in the nearby basin to remove any signs of the altercation, including the blood on his neck.
Then he walked back to his bed and bent low to press a kiss on Beatrice’s temple. “Beatrice?”
Her long lashes fluttered. She woke in an instant and sat up. “Daniel? You’re here.”
“Yes. I hope I’m not too late.”
A lovely blush stole up her cheeks. “I wanted to have dinner with you and...” She paused as if uncertain how to explain.
Unable to resist, he kissed her, desperate for her to finish the sentence. “And?”
“And here you are,” she said in a breathless rush.
“Here I am.” He sat
