called, not wanting to use his title. “I’ve got the gun!”
Rockbourne stopped and looked over at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open as he panted with exertion. The footpad seized the opportunity to shove Rockbourne off him. Scrambling to his feet, the brigand nearly stumbled as he fought to get away. Rockbourne lunged for him, but the man moved just out of reach and managed to start running.
“Let him go,” Beatrix said, lowering both pistols. “Are you all right?”
“Am I all right?” Rockbourne stood. “Are you? Never mind, I can see you are. How on earth do you have two pistols?”
“One was the footpad’s and one is mine.” She tucked hers back into her coat.
He gaped at her. “You carry a pistol?”
She nodded. “Seems prudent given I’m out this late.”
“Prudent.” He shook his head as if he was befuddled. “It’s bloody dangerous.”
“Not since I carry a pistol. Just look how I was able—”
He strode toward her and took the other pistol from her hand. “See how easy it was for me to disarm you?”
She frowned up at him. “You aren’t a threat. If you were, you wouldn’t have. I would have shot you before you got too close. I know how to use a gun.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Christ, Beatrix. You scared the hell out of me.”
“I scared you?”
He exhaled and fixed his gaze on her. “Not you, but what happened. Wait, yes, you. You wandering around London in the middle of the night with a bloody pistol scares the hell out of me.”
“It shouldn’t. As you can see, I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.” She looked around. “Do you see any footpads?”
“There were two of them and two of us. If I hadn’t accompanied you tonight—” He snapped his mouth closed and grabbed her elbow. “You can’t do this again. No more coming to my house after dark.”
Her brows formed an angry V. “You aren’t my father. Or my husband.”
“You don’t have a bloody father. At least not one that’s worth a damn. And you don’t have a husband. You have me, and you’ll listen to me, goddammit.”
She drew back, surprised at the vitriol in his tone. Suddenly, she realized he was scared. And that fear made him angry. “Rockbourne,” she whispered. “Tom.” She liked the way that felt on her tongue. Reaching up, she gently touched his cheek. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be afraid, not for me. I’m stronger—and more capable—than you think.”
He seemed to quiet, the fire in his gaze dimming. “You’re not used to anyone looking after you.”
She realized he was right. “Not really. Just my sister. And she’s even stronger and more capable than I am.” Dropping her hand to her side, she smiled, hoping to get back to the joy they’d shared earlier.
He tucked the pistol into the side of his waistband beneath his coat. Pivoting, he found her hat. As he handed it to her, she saw the damage to his hand. Blood smeared his knuckles. She hadn’t noticed if the footpad had been wounded, but surmised he had been. There was too much blood for it to be from the abrasions on Rockbourne’s flesh alone.
Beatrix took the hat with one hand and clasped his hand with the other. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It isn’t nothing.”
“Come on, let’s get you home. You’re on Queen Anne Street?”
“Yes. For now.”
He looked at her in question. “You’re moving?”
“To Cavendish Square. Tomorrow, actually. The owner, the Marchioness of Ripley, is leasing the house to Harry. This way, he and Selina will have a larger house. Both ours and his are rather small. I’ll show you where. We can walk by on our way to Queen Anne Street.”
With a nod, he turned in the direction of Cavendish Square. She joined him, and they continued along Oxford Street at a brisk pace before turning left toward Cavendish Square.
His silence made her anxious. She hoped he wasn’t angry anymore. She also wanted to make sure he understood that she did not want to be managed.
“I’m not sure I can promise not to venture out after dark,” she said gently. “How else can I visit you?”
“Send a note, and I’ll come meet you.”
“Truly?” Anticipation tripped up her spine. Though, she’d have to determine how to send a note. But wait! They would have at least one footman at Cavendish Square, perhaps even two! She and her mother had employed a footman in Bath. Rather, Ramsgate had. He’d spared no expense when it came to Beatrix’s mother. Except