A Rogue to the Rescue (The Rogue Chronicles #4) - Lana Williams Page 0,3

arm to halt her. “Who is looking for you?”

“Finch. The guards. I can’t return there.” She glanced about wildly then jerked free of his grasp.

“Allow me to help.” Daniel didn’t understand who she was or what had happened, but the woman was clearly frightened and in need of aid.

“Help? You?” The doubt in her tone irritated him. Her wide eyes locked on his, but their color remained a secret. Then she released a breath and her body crumpled.

Daniel managed to lift her into his arms before she hit the ground, relieved to hear her shallow breathing. Mayhap she was ill, though the state of her attire was concerning as was her fear. What could he do but take her to safety? He walked toward the nearest hackney coach stand a block away, keeping an eye out to see if anyone followed, but no one did.

The sight of a waiting hackney filled him with gratitude. The woman hadn’t woken, and he wasn’t certain how much farther he could carry her even though she was slim.

“Here now,” the driver demanded in alarm as he caught sight of Daniel. “What do ye think ye’re doin’?”

“Taking a lady to safety.”

Before the man could protest, Daniel reached for the carriage door and gave his address, advising the driver to hurry, then stepped inside. Only after he’d settled into the conveyance with his burden did he wonder whether it wise to bring the lady to his townhome. If anyone saw them, the woman’s reputation could be ruined—if it wasn’t already. Yet where else could he take her?

The idea of waking Richard and his wife, Caroline, who was with child, in the middle of the night seemed unwise. Especially since he didn’t know anything about the woman. Was she of sound mind? Or perhaps she truly was a prostitute, in which case her reputation was past protecting. He would know soon enough he supposed.

Within a quarter of an hour, he arrived home. The driver assisted him to alight, and Daniel carried the unconscious woman to his front door where Pierre opened it before he could knock.

“Sir?” His valet stared in shock at the form in Daniel’s arms.

“Pay the driver then assist me, would you?” Daniel ignored Pierre’s hesitation and made his way up the stairs toward the guest room.

To his credit, Pierre did as Daniel bid and still made it to the guest chamber door before Daniel to open it. “Is this wise?” the man asked.

“Probably not.”

“Who is she?” Pierre asked as he hurried forward to light the candle beside the bed.

“I don’t know.”

“Does that mean you don’t know what’s wrong with her either?” Pierre pulled down the bed covers only to hold out his hand. “Wait.”

Daniel looked over to see him staring at the woman’s dirty feet.

“What happened to her shoes?” Then he quickly shook his head. “Allow me to guess. You don’t know. Mrs. Beverly will have our heads if we allow that muck to touch the linens.” He gave a mock shudder at the thought. “I shall fetch the water and basin from your room to clean them.”

Daniel didn’t bother to argue. Pierre was right. Mrs. Beverly served as housekeeper and ran his small household with the same efficiency as the captain of a ship. She would not be pleased to have the clean linens dirtied by whatever filth covered the lady’s feet.

“Send someone for the doctor as well,” Daniel requested as Pierre reached the door. Then he set her against the pillow and bolster, careful to leave her feet off the edge of the bed.

Daniel studied the lady in the candlelight, surprised to realize she was very attractive. She looked rather like a fallen angel with her white nightrail and dirty feet. Her honey-colored hair was messily pulled back and framed her fine-boned, heart-shaped face. Long, sooty lashes and brows a shade darker than her hair were all the more arresting against her smooth skin. Skin that was noticeably pale.

Who was she and why was she dressed like this? Those were only the beginning of his many questions. But first, he wanted to make certain something wasn’t seriously wrong with her.

“The doctor has been sent for,” Pierre said as he carried in a basin of water along with several cloths over one arm and quickly got to work. “Where did you find her?”

“Not far from Brooks’s.”

“You were walking home again? Tsk tsk.” Pierre didn’t approve of Daniel testing his savate skills, a French boxing technique that used both hands and feet, at which