Introducing Miss Joanna (Once a Wallflower #2) - Maggi Andersen Page 0,57

in the Pool of London. The recent deluge formed impenetrable black puddles over the ground.

Verdin’s coachman stopped at the mouth of a lane too narrow for the vehicle to proceed farther. Alighting on the pavement, Virden paid him, then took hold of Jo’s arm and hurried her along. Her knees were weak, and she feared they’d give way while her nerves jumped at the noise from a tavern on the corner where drunken sailors and stevedores argued or sang shanties off-key. If she escaped Virden, could she find safety among them? She was willing to try.

Virden unlocked a door set in a grimy brick wall and pushed Jo inside. The lack of a window made the space dark and gloomy. It smelled of unwashed bodies and rats. The only furniture, a rickety table and four mismatched chairs and a filthy mattress on the floor against one wall. The stub of candle he lit threw flickering halos over the discolored walls, drawing them in, making the room seem even smaller. Virden hadn’t locked the door. But if she tried to flee now, he would only hurt her. She must bide her time.

He gestured for her to sit and slumped into a chair. Jo as far away from him as possible, but she remained within reach. His earlier bluster had ebbed away during the journey. The prospect of leaving these shores must have lost its appeal.

She rested her elbows on the table and studied him from beneath her lashes. How might she outwit him? When she shuffled her feet to test him, his head came up sharply.

“Don’t even think of trying to escape. You are my ticket out of here. I don’t intend to lose you.”

Did he expect someone? “Are we to sit here all night?” she asked. “I’m hungry, and this chair is hard.”

“Stop your whining. There’s the bed if you prefer it.”

“No, thank you. Lice and rats don’t appeal, but they’re no worse than you.”

He scowled and opened his mouth to rebuke her, but a clatter out in the street brought him to his feet. He hurried over to the door, opened it a crack, and peered out.

It occurred to her that rather than expecting someone, he feared it. He had abandoned not just his mother, but his gang of crooks. If they discovered what he was up to, surely they’d come after him? She shivered. She hoped they wouldn’t. For that would seal her fate.

Virden shut the door and returned to his chair, relief etched on his face as he sat down.

“Are you afraid someone has discovered what you’re up to and come after you?” she asked, watching him, chin resting in her palm.

He glared at her. “Not before the meeting tomorrow at noon. We’ll be long gone by then.”

As he seemed prepared to talk, Jo pursued another topic. “How many of you are there?”

“Nosey, aren’t you? Four, counting my mother and me, plus a few henchmen from the rookeries eager to do our bidding. We have a good number of girls in London brothels now. But the big money is not to be made here in England.”

“Who are those two men?”

He raised his brows. “Now, wouldn’t you like to know?”

She shrugged. “I suppose you’re afraid I’ll tell someone.”

“Who will you tell? The captain of the ship?” he sneered. “Lord Rivenstock is one of them.”

The horrible fat man who held the first ball Jo attended. She could believe it of him. “I understood gentlemen had a code of honor.”

“How naïve you country girls are. Our leader is related to the king.”

She slowly shook her head. “Really?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You doubt it? It is Roland, Viscount Lothian. Guineamen made him rich,” Verdin said moodily. “But there’s too much opposition to the trade, so he is keen to diversify where he doesn’t have to get his hands dirty.”

“What are Guineamen?”

“The slave ships from the Guinea coast.”

Jo failed to hide her shock and disgust.

Verdin looked pleased. “I’ve impressed you. As you can see, I’m in excellent company.”

“But you’re leaving. And you can never return to England. Or see your mother again,” she said reflectively. “Although I imagine she won’t want to see you, will she?”

He leaned over and gave her a stinging slap across the cheek.

Jo fell back, her hand to her face. “Brute.”

“That will teach you to button your lip, girl. I warn you not to insult me again. We have weeks before we arrive in Tangiers. So, keep control of yourself.”

Jo rested her head in her arms. Riling him

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