pushed back out of the reach of his raised arm. As she expected, with a cry of anger, he threw back his chair and stood to advance around the table. “I warned you not to anger me again. Now you’ll be sorry.”
Fear made Jo move faster. She sent her chair crashing on its side in his path. It tripped him up, and he came down hard with a cry as she ran to the door. Wrenching it open, she bolted out into the street, then gasped as the pelting rain blinded her. Night had fallen. She stumbled toward the lighted tavern, unsure of the reception she’d get but no longer caring. Anywhere was better than where she’d been.
Her wet clothes clinging to her, she ran inside. A dozen sets of male eyes stared at her, the air laden with hops, smoke, wet wool, and sweat.
Jo pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. She ran over to the tavern-keeper, who was filling tankards with ale. “Please, could you help me?”
He signaled to a woman perched on a man’s lap. “You are needed, Becky.”
Becky slipped off the man’s knee and received a slap on the bottom. She sashayed over to Jo. “You’re in a state, aren’t you, luv?”
Jo stared at the door, expecting Virden to burst in at any moment. “Yes, I…”
“Not here. Come upstairs. You need to dry off.”
Jo followed her up the stairs to a tiny bedchamber. A small casement window overlooked the street. She stared down through the rain. A group of people scurried past, but she couldn’t pick out Virden among them.
“Now, what can I do for you, pet?” Becky held out a bit of toweling.
“Thank you.” Jo took it and attempted to dry her hair. “A man abducted me from the park. He is out there looking for me.”
“But what are you doin’ down ’ere, luv?”
“It’s a long story. I want to go home, but I don’t have any money.”
“You can turn a trick with one ’o them downstairs.”
Jo stared at her. “What?”
Becky shrugged, looking amused. “Thought so. Gently reared, they call the likes of you. Mayfair, is it?”
“Yes, how did you…?
“Your fine clothes for one.” Opening a drawer, she took out a leather drawstring bag. She extracted some coins. “Doubt I’ll see this again. No matter. Twill be me good deed of the day, won’t it.”
“I’ll return your money, Becky. I promise.”
Becky dropped two silver coins in Jo’s hand. “Two bob should do it. I’ll come outside with you and whistle up a ’ackney. But few come ’ere this time o’ night.”
Jo tensed. “The man who kidnapped me will wait out there.”
Becky removed a knife from a drawer and hid it in the folds of her knitted shawl. “Then ’e’ll be sorry, won’t ’e?”
Her heart in her mouth, Jo followed Becky downstairs.
“Hey, Becky, why don’t you bring yer friend over,” a rough-looking man called. “She looks like she could do with a drink.” His mates boisterously agreed.
“No thanks, Bert,” Becky said. “She’s not for the likes of you.”
“Eh?” Bert lumbered to his feet.
“Fred?” Becky turned to the tavern-keeper. A big beefy man, he stepped forward with a lump of wood in his hand and cast a warning glance at Bert.
“Forget it.” Bert shook his head and sunk back into his chair.
Jo shivered as she and Becky ventured out into the rain and walked toward the main road, which ran the length of the harbor’s edge.
A man appeared from the shelter of a doorway opposite.
“It’s him,” Jo whispered.
“Don’t like the look of ’im.” Becky turned away. “Better I get Fred.”
“No! Don’t leave me, Becky!”
Becky disappeared into the tavern. Jo went to follow, but Virden was quickly upon her. “Thought you’d run away from me, did you? I’ll teach you a lesson.” He thrust her back toward the room. Jo struggled and struck at his face with her nails. With a curse, he pinned her arms and lifted her off her feet.
A clamor behind them made Virden turn. Becky and three men burst out of the tavern and spilled onto the street.
“She’s my wife. Mind your business,” Virden cried.
The men stopped. “’e’s a toff,” one of them said. The men lost interest and filed back into the warmth and dry of the tavern.
“You didn’t say he was your hubby, luv,” Becky called.
A clatter of hooves and a horse rider galloped out of the dark. Reade! Was she dreaming?
Virden pushed her away and ran up the lane.
Jo screamed. “Reade! He’s got a knife.”
Reade jumped down from his