The Rakehell of Roth (Everleigh Sisters #2) - Amalie Howard Page 0,89

buttons could tempt even the most hardened thief, much less a foxed one. He gave the gin shops a wide berth. His hand slid over the butt of his pistol beneath his cloak when he entered a small alleyway, unsurprisingly in the most dangerous part of the district. This was Russell Street, but it was uncannily quiet.

Too quiet.

His senses tingled, and Winter swung around only to dodge the missile swinging toward his face. Ducking, he slid from the horse. The smell of unwashed bodies wafted into his nose as three footpads surrounded him. They were huge, two of them holding what looked like makeshift cudgels. The other held a blade.

“Give us yer purse, guv, or we’ll slit yer throat.”

Winter grinned. “Is it going to be like that then?”

“Aye.”

“Come and take it, if you dare.”

They rushed him at once and Winter only had time to throw his fist out, catching one of them in the nose. Blood spurted as he howled, but Winter paid him no mind as he fought to stay out of reach of the other man’s knife. Energy coursed through him as he kicked his leg out, forcing one of the men to his knees, then he brought his elbow up into the man’s jaw. A sharp crack echoed through the alley. Thank God for the kidskin gloves protecting his knuckles. With another swift move, he disarmed the man of his blade, and kicked him square in the gut, sending him crashing into a pile of rubbish.

The skirmish with the three was over in seconds…but far from over as a handful more men surrounded him. This couldn’t be coincidence. It was too organized, and these men didn’t smell like the others. Had they followed him from Vance House? He would bet his fortune that these new arrivals were paid brutes. And given that none of them had guns, they were there to incapacitate, not kill.

Winter had no such compunction, however. He drew the small pistol from his coat and fired a warning shot into the air. To his surprise, they didn’t scatter. They were not only being paid, but they were being paid well enough to risk their lives.

By whom?

Before he could go for his second gun, a fist the size of a boulder came flying out of nowhere to crunch into his face. Pain exploded behind his eyes as he fought to defend himself, throwing up an automatic left hook that connected with bone. A scream was the only sound as his assailant stumbled backward. Winter shook his head, seeing stars. The momentary distraction cost him greatly as four bodies attacked him at once, taking him to the filthy ground.

He fought with everything in him, but he could barely find purchase. His feet kicked out, and one of the men uttered a savage oath as it connected. Winter could only register one thing—the man had cursed in fluent Italian, and only one person of his recent acquaintance hailed from the continent.

It could not be a coincidence.

Chapter Twenty-One

Sometimes, Dearest Friend, white knights are overrated. Be the storm in the night and stage your own rescue.

– Lady Darcy

“What do you mean he’s gone looking for me?” a dumbfounded Isobel asked Clarissa upon her return to Vance House. Though she’d visited only for a brief time with Astrid, her sister was right. She needed to talk to Winter once and for all. They were married, for better or for worse, and unless he had plans to dissolve said marriage, they had to come to some workable compromise. For everyone’s sake.

But she’d walked into utter chaos. Amidst shrieks from the twins that she was safe and well, Clarissa was in a fine froth. Her friend blew out a breath. “You told Violet you never should have come to London. I thought you’d gone back to Chelmsford!”

“I did need to clear my head,” Isobel said, “but I went to visit Astrid. Goodness, Violet, can you be any more dramatic?”

“I’m not dramatic!” Violet screeched.

“Your sister is in town?” Molly interjected at the same time. “Isn’t she with child?”

“When has that ever stopped Astrid? She claimed she wanted to get out of North Stifford for a spell, but my sister rarely does anything without a reason. She asked if I’d seen anyone familiar, which I thought exceedingly strange. I suspect her being here must have something to do with Beswick.” Isobel shook her head and focused her attention back on Clarissa. “Wait, what were you saying about Winter before—why on earth would he go