“Listen, you ruffians,” said Mrs. Seton with her trademark inability to defuse a dangerous situation. “Be gone with you now. We have just as much right to be here as you do. More so, considering we are decent folks and you’re just four sinners who fornicate with fallen women.”
“Hear that?” asked the first man, who looked to be in his middle thirties and was missing most of his hair and more than half of his teeth. “We’re fornicating wif fallen women. And I thought we was just fucking.”
That was outside of enough for Mrs. Seton, who gripped her cane and was on the verge of striking the man when Hal stayed her arm. He held it in a firm grip, even as she struggled to continue her assault.
“Mrs. Seton,” said Hal quietly, without looking away from the four men, “they cannot help it if they fornicate with fallen women, since the good women do not fornicate.” That got a snort of laughter from one of the men. The one nearest Mrs. Seton, however, simply stared at the woman with hatred in his eyes.
“Mrs. Seton, I believe Lord Henry is on to something,” said Melanie, as she went to stand on the other side of the woman, presumably to stop her from attacking the man with that hand. “Just as we have every right to protest peacefully, this gentleman…” Here she looked up at the hulk of a man and smiled brilliantly. “May I have your name sir?’
Evidently the brute was more prepared for violence than kindness because he looked totally taken aback by the question. After a moment, he answered “Crusher.”
“What an interesting name, Mr. Crusher,” said Melanie. “Are you a Londoner by birth?”
“What’s me birf got to do wif anyfink?”
“I have never heard the surname before and thought it must be local.” Here, Hal let out his own snort of laughter, which made Mel frown at him. “Mr. Crusher, I am sure Mrs. Seton did not mean to threaten you with violence.”
“I most certainly did,” said the lady in question rather unhelpfully. “He’s a brute, he’s a…”
“Mrs. Seton!” said Melanie. “While I understand your passion for your crusade, violence is never the answer.”
“Sometimes,” said Crusher, cracking his huge knuckles, “violence is the only solution.”
As Mel talked to Crusher, Hal looked at the other men. Each was armed with various weapons. He could see knives in their sheaths, had no doubt they carried still others in their boots and probably had blackjacks as well. If they attacked, there was no way Hal could hold them off. He prayed Mel would be able to sweet talk Crusher into leaving them in peace.
Fortunately, she was in the process of doing just that. “Mr. Crusher, what is your favorite hymn?”
“My wot?” he asked.
“Your favorite hymn. Do you attend services?”
“You mean church? I don’t go to no church.”
“Did you ever?” asked Mel.
“’Course not. Didn’t have no time.”
“I went to church,” said another of the bully boys. He had a ragged scar down his face and a tattoo on his neck. Hal suspected his church days weren’t of the recent variety. “Used to sing hymns with me mum.”
“Excellent!” said Mel. “Did you have a particular favorite?”
The man looked uncomfortable in front of his friends. But after a long moment, he replied “’All Praise to Thee, My God This Night’.”
“That is one of my favorites as well,” said Mel. “Ladies? Shall we?”
Then she led the group in a rendition of the hymn. It was a reedy performance, with most of the women looking scared enough to faint. But this time Hal sang along, without taking his eyes from the men in front of him. After a moment, the man with the neck tattoo started singing as well. Crusher wasn’t sure what his response should be, so he simply looked on, bemused.
When they finished, the neck tattoo man looked as innocent and pleased as a small boy with a neck tattoo.
Crusher took that moment to speak. “Look. We was supposed to clear you out – whatever it took.”
“How dare you!” said Mrs. Seton. “I have a mind to….”
“Mrs. Seton, hush!” said Mel, finally shouting the woman down.
Crusher looked suitably impressed. “You should all of you leave and not come back. The next time we sees you, it might not end so well.”
“Thank you, Crusher,” said Hal nodding to the man, while holding firmly to Mrs. Seton’s arm and escorting the woman away. The other ladies gladly followed, as closely to him as possible. He looked over to see Mel was no longer on the other side of Mrs. Seton. He had a moment of panic as he saw her shake hands with each of the four men. They were dumbfounded that she would do such a thing. And when she left, they looked at each other in disbelief.
All Hal knew was profound relief that none of the women had been hurt, especially Mel. Crusher and his fellow brutes had been sent by someone. If Hal had been alone, he would have asked them who was behind it. But he hadn’t wanted the ladies to linger even a moment longer.
One thing was certain. He had to put an end to these protests.
CHAPTER NINE
Hal peeled his eyes apart, then held up a hand to shield himself from the glare of daylight streaming so rudely into his bedchamber. He estimated it was some time after noon and it was days like this when he wondered whether it might be possible to alter his schedule so he didn’t see the sun at all.
After delivering Melanie home the previous evening, Hal had sought out Charles Francis. Truth be told, he’d been ducking his friend for several days. But Francis had doggedly tried to track Hal down, finally leaving a message with Heskiss that he would arrive at Lynwood House the next morning and wait as long as it took to see him. Since Hal hadn’t wanted Francis and Lynwood bumping into each other, he’d sought his friend out the previous evening, catching up to him at Dill’s. After spending time – and blunt there – Francis had persuaded him to go to another hell, then yet another. Before Hal knew it, he was once again stumbling home at daybreak.
Francis had taken Hal’s association with Mrs. Seton’s group with good humor. He found it incredibly amusing that one of the ton’s leading rakes would lend his support to a temperance movement and in the company of veritable dowds. At Hal’s glare, he’d amended his statement to exclude Miss Sutton, then added he found her quite comely. That only made Hal’s glare worsen, which set Francis off on howls of laughter.
It was after that when Francis had dragged Hal to Madame Thurmond’s. Hal hadn’t wanted to go, but when he’d said as much, Francis had begun teasing him about Miss Sutton again, accusing Hal of being led about by the nose, since he was certain no other body part would be lucky enough to be in the chit’s presence. Hal accompanied him to the brothel for no other reason than to shut the man up.
Madame Thurmond, discreet as always, didn’t mention Hal’s visit to her establishment some weeks earlier and neither did the girls. He did, however, receive a few curious looks as he passed by.
Hal didn’t want to answer questions, so for once he passed on his regular girls and chose instead two new ones. If they’d been curious at the beginning of their session, they were no doubt even more so by the end of the hour. For Hal did nothing with the girls other than talk. He did not want to think overly much as to why he chose not to have sex with either of them. He certainly had the right to abstain if he so chose. No need to put a reason to it. And especially no need to put a name or a face or a pair of courtesan’s stockings to it. Just the thought of those stockings made him harder than either of the two girls could possibly do if they tried. Then he paid them well to keep quiet about his non-participation.
No sense giving Francis one more thing to tease him about.
That had been his evening. Now he lay in bed, wholly regretting the spirits he’d imbibed at Madame Thurmond’s. Just as he was contemplating going back to sleep, there was a knock on the door. A footman entered with a note on a silver salver. If the servant had noticed the misspellings on the envelope or the rather sloppy seal, he didn’t say a word.
Hal dismissed the man and then opened the note from Melanie’s maid. He read it, then with a groan got up to quickly made his ablutions and dress.
* * *
The trip to the docks hadn’t been as long as Melanie had expected. Traffic had been lighter than usual, while the harbor itself was just as busy as it always was. Melanie’s excitement couldn’t be contained. The ship from America had arrived only a short time earlier and she eagerly scanned the area to see if she might find the captain.
“Miss Sutton! What a lovely surprise.”
At the familiar voice, Melanie turned to find not the captain, but Richard Parker himself. The surprise was a welcome one as she hugged her old friend. At five and twenty, Richard Parker was a popular bachelor in their area of Philadelphia. He was well over six feet in height and while he was known to be a scholarly type, he had the well-formed body of a man used to hard work and exercise. He was an avid rider and often worked in the gardens of his comfortable home. Some people thought him proud, but only those who mistook his shyness. He was fiercely devoted to the cause of helping less fortunate women.
Melanie smiled and reached for his hands. “Why did you not tell me to expect you?” she asked, as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.
“Truthfully, my trip was so hastily planned that any letter I could have written would have arrived on this very ship. But I trust you will forgive me.”
“Forgive you for what?” asked Hal, as he joined them. He neatly inserted himself between the two of them and stuck out his hand. “Lord Henry Kellington,” he said.
Richard looked at him appraisingly, then put out his own hand. “Richard Parker. I am a friend of Miss Sutton’s from Philadelphia.”
Hal’s brows immediately knitted together and Melanie noticed that both men squeezed each other’s hands as if dangling from a ledge and trying not to fall.
“You’re the Quaker?”
“Not exactly,” said Parker. “But I did attend a Quaker school. I confess I am at a loss for how you know Melanie, Lord Henry.”
And he looked most adamant that it be explained.
“And I am most curious as to why you have suddenly come to London, apparently unannounced. Or perhaps you have only now realized how dangerous this mad start of Miss Sutton’s is that you have encouraged.”
“Lord Henry!” admonished Melanie. Mad start, indeed.
Richard narrowed his own eyes. “Miss Sutton and I have been working to help women make a new life in America. There is no madness about it.”
“What do you call it when a young lady risks not only her reputation but her very life by going to dangerous parts of town, trying to recruit prostitutes in alleyways, and venturing to the docks by herself?” demanded Hal. “And I was led to believe you would be much older.”
“How dare you admonish my friend, Lord Henry,” said Mel, having had her fill of the arrogant male posturing. “And what are you doing here if not spying on me?”
“I am trying to keep you safe, Miss Sutton,” Hal gritted between his teeth. “The docks are no place for a lady.”
Melanie expected Richard to come to her defense, but instead he turned on her, too. “Kellington is right, Melanie. You really shouldn’t have travelled to the docks by yourself. And what’s this about you confronting fallen women in alleyways by yourself? You didn’t tell me you were doing that.”
The look of smug satisfaction on Hal’s face put Melanie in a sour mood. It was true she hadn’t exactly been honest with Richard about how she was approaching the women. But he had no idea how much London society limited a lady’s options. She would never have gained her uncle’s permission to have Mary accompany her. And she never would have dreamed of sneaking out with her cousin. Risking her own reputation and safety was one thing. But she would never place Mary at risk. And there simply weren’t any other ladies she could trust. Unfortunately, the ladies in Mrs. Seton’s group were far too timid. And if Mrs. Seton learned what she was doing, Mel felt certain the old crone would tell her uncle.
She turned to Parker. “Richard, it is the only way for me to expand the circle of women I reach. And we want to give as many women as possible a new start, don’t we?”
“We do,” said Richard kindly, “but not at the risk of your safety. Promise me you won’t take such chances in the future.”
“I promise I will be much more careful,” said Melanie with a smile. She reached out and squeezed his hand.
Hal studied them both, then turned to Richard. “You’re not going to fall for that, are you?”
Richard bristled slightly. “You’re not questioning Miss Sutton’s honor, are you?”
“I’m paying her the compliment of knowing she’s smarter than either of us when it comes to getting what she wants. She’s really quite wily.”
“Just because I gave you the slip that day, doesn’t mean I am not to be trusted,” said Mel.
“She gave you the slip?” said Richard to Hal with more than a hint of a smile. “No wonder you feel she’s smarter than you.”
“I said she was smarter than us. And if you expect her to heed your advice about remaining safe, I suggest you hire a keeper for her – one that’s not her abominable maid.”
“Flora is the one who told you where I was today, was she not?” asked Melanie.
“She does have her uses,” said Hal, feeling a bit better to see Mel’s disgruntlement. Why should he be the only one who was unhappy with the situation? “Where are you staying, Parker?”
“I was hoping to stay at Mitchell House,” he said. “I know men are generally not allowed, but I would like to throw myself into the work as much as possible.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” said Mel. “But you are more than welcome to stay at my uncle’s. We need only collect your trunks and we can be on our way.”
“Mitchell House would be better,” said Hal. “I’m all for Parker throwing himself as hard as possible so he can be on his way back to America. And when will that be, exactly?”
Richard studied Hal for a long moment. “I had planned to go back on the ship’s return journey in ten days. But I may stay longer.”
Hal’s scowl grew even darker. But Mel couldn’t worry about such nonsense now. If the ship was leaving again in ten days, then she needed to find four women to be on it. As of now, she had several women who were interested, but none who had committed. She needed to resolve the issue as soon as possible.
Just then, the captain of the ship, Colin Clinch joined them. He was a tall man in his early thirties, with the tanned skin and muscled body of a sea captain, albeit a particularly well-spoken one. He also had a jagged scar down the left side of his face, but was a handsome man despite the disfigurement. On her journey from America, Mel had seen any number of women throw themselves at the captain. The scar seemed to only add to the attraction. No doubt they saw him as a man of action and adventure, not to mention a mysterious one. Captain Clinch said little about his past, so it was up to ladies with romantical notions to fill in the missing pieces. Mel had heard every theory from the one where he was a pirate in disguise to his being the well-born son in an aristocratic family forced to make his own way in the world.
All Mel knew was that the captain kindly provided them with invaluable assistance. She would always be grateful to him.
“What a pleasure to see you again, Miss Sutton,” said Captain Clinch, as he bowed over her hand, his lips just brushing her knuckles.”
“And who is this?” asked Hal, continuing to show little of the charm for which he was famous.
“Lord Henry,” said Mel coolly, “permit me to introduce you to Captain Clinch. He transports our ladies to America and was ever so kind to me when I made the journey to England.”
“I’m sure he was,” said Hal, eyeing the captain who was, himself, eyeing Melanie.
Parker stepped between Mel and Clinch. “Thank you again, Captain. Do be so kind as to send word if your plans change.”
“Of course,” said C
linch, as he bowed to them. “If you will excuse me, I must speak to the harbor master.”
With another glance toward Mel, the captain sauntered off down the docks.
“Prat,” muttered Hal.
“Quite,” murmured Parker. “Now, Melanie shall we be off?”
Hal reluctantly gave Parker a ride to Mitchell House, only to spare Mel the journey by hack. Had it been possible, he would’ve taken Mel and left Parker to his own devices. As it was, he sat next to Mel on the seat, close enough that their thighs touched. But that only seemed to drive him mad, as she sat blithely visiting with Parker, reminiscing about people Hal didn’t know and wished to the devil.
They finally pulled up to Mitchell House, but instead of simply dropping them off, Hal insisted on accompanying them inside. He wasn’t sure why he was prolonging his misery, but he didn’t want to leave Mel alone with the American.
Their arrival caused something of an uproar.
Lydia Robinson, the resident courtesan in search of a partner, took one look at both of the men and immediately set her sights on each of them. Angela Evans, who was resting before a performance at the theatre later that night took it upon herself to walk the halls wearing only her dressing gown.
“Good day, my lord,” she said to Hal, curtsying at such an angle that her breasts were in danger of falling out of the gown and perhaps even hitting the floor. “I believe I have seen you at the theatre, have I not?”
Probably backstage in a compromising position, thought Hal with a grimace. He bowed over her hand. “I am a fan of the theatre, though I have not attended a performance in quite some time.”
“A pity,” said Angela, slightly swaying her hips from side to side. “You must come backstage and see me when you next attend.”
“Tell us, Mr. Parker,” said Lydia breathlessly, “do you really mean to stay at Mitchell House? I do not believe we have ever had such a grand guest.”
“And I am afraid we are keeping him from resting,” said Anne Cartwright with a shy smile as she entered the room. As usual, when she met new people, she kept the left side of her face slightly averted, since that had the worst scars. “Your room is ready, sir. I am sure you must be tired after your long voyage. Angela, the time is growing late. I am sure you do not wish to be late to the theatre. And Lydia, I believe you had an appointment at the dressmaker.”
Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) Page 10