Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,4
Rob said as he began running a damp rag over the table.
Very carefully, she picked up the coin and slipped it into her pocket. “Does he come here often?”
“Depends what you call often. The brothers all used to spend a good bit of their time here before they got married. He’s the only one who’s managed to escape the matrimonial shackles but doesn’t come ’round as often now that the others are scarce.”
When Mr. Trewlove returned she would not only let him know that Jimmy had apologized, but would also thank him for having a word with the rambunctious young man. She didn’t think anyone at his table was going to be giving her bottom any attention in the near future.
Certainly no one troubled her the remainder of the night.
Still, she was grateful when the customers were ushered out at midnight and the front door was bolted. She and the other workers began placing chairs on tables, sweeping, mopping, tidying up. It was a little over half an hour later when they all stepped into the alley. Mac locked the back door behind them, said his farewells, and headed up to the rooms that came along with his position. As the others—Polly, Rob, the cook, another bartender, and another serving maid—wished her good-night and carried on, she wandered to the street that the tavern faced. Her brother was usually leaning against the front of the building, waiting to escort her home. He didn’t like her walking alone about Whitechapel at night. She didn’t like walking alone at night.
Once she reached the street, a fissure of dread speared her. Griffith wasn’t there. He was always prompt, which at first had come as a shock to her. As the spare, he’d only ever been interested in play, had never taken responsibility for anything other than having a grand time.
The streetlamps dotting the area couldn’t hold at bay all the shadows. Glancing around, she saw a couple of people walking in the distance, becoming smaller as they moved away from her, but he wouldn’t have come from that direction anyway. Perhaps he was only running late.
Please, dear Lord, don’t let anything have happened to him. While he was skilled at shooting at targets, had mastered fencing, and engaged in boxing for sport, she wasn’t entirely convinced all of that translated well to dealing with the villainous scoundrels who made Whitechapel their home. He was no more accustomed to wandering these dangerous streets than she was.
Drawing her ermine-lined cloak more tightly around her, she began walking, hoping to meet up with him shortly and to be that much closer to their residence when she did. After ten hours at her labors, her feet, lower back, and shoulders ached. She wanted to be home. Even as she had the thought, she acknowledged they’d never go home again. It had been taken from them, and what they had now could barely be described as a residence.
Unexpectedly, the fine hairs on the back of her neck quivered as though someone had placed a warm hand against her nape. She swung around.
The people she’d seen earlier were farther away, weren’t coming for her. While she didn’t feel in danger, she couldn’t shake off the sensation that she wasn’t alone, that someone was near enough to hear her harsh breathing, that she was being watched.
But she saw only the shadows, heard only the occasional skitter of rats.
Reaching into her reticule, she pulled out the small dagger her older brother had given her and taught her how to wield, before he’d taken his leave to go God knew where. She doubted the four-inch blade would kill anyone, but it might at least give a miscreant pause, hold him at bay.
Besides, it could just be her imagination playing tricks on her. Until three months ago, she’d never gone anywhere alone. Her lady’s maid, footmen, her mother, a friend—someone always accompanied her. She’d never had to be aware of her surroundings, never had to worry about being accosted. But now she’d become extremely vigilant and wary. She hated all the worry, the uncertainty, and tried not to recall all the years of security she’d taken for granted, assuming she would always be spoiled, well tended, without care. When every day had been filled with fun, laughter, and good cheer.
Turning back around, she came up short at the sight of Griffith a few steps away and very nearly screamed at his sudden appearance. Doing so would have angered her more. “Where the devil