Page 5 of The Lady
It was too much. Something broke loose inside of Delilah’s chest. She had to get out. It didn’t matter where. Anywhere was better than here with this... woman and her venomous descendants. The urge to run, building inside of Delilah for days, burst forth like a leak in a dam. She sprang forward so quickly, Lady Felton actually stumbled back. Amy and Sylvie were both shrieking, although she couldn’t tell what they were saying.
With all the noise buzzing in her ears, all she could hear was her panicked breath and her pounding heart as she darted for the front door and freedom. She wouldnotstand here and be thrashed for something she did not do. She would not.
She did not think about the consequences or where she was going, she just lifted her skirts and ran down the street. Glancing over her shoulder, she was horrified to see footmen running out the door behind her. Even if any of them were the ones who felt sorry for her, they could not disobey a direct order from Lady Felton.
Heedless of her direction, Delilah ran and ran, darting behind startled lords and ladies, gentlemen and women, all the way out of Mayfair. The streets began to twist and turn, the smell becoming fouler, and her feet throbbed with pain. Slowing, Delilah placed a delicate hand on the rough exterior of a building, stumbling forward as she dared to look over her shoulder. There, several streets away, she saw a glimpse of bright green, the same color as Lady Felton’s livery. It stood out starkly against the drab coloring of everyone else’s clothing in this area.
She’d stumbled into the slums, and still, he was chasing her. Delilah did not know what to do. If Lady Felton had been going to thrash her before, there was no telling what she would do now. Delilah certainly could not stay here. It was far too dangerous. As if to confirm that thought, a rough, low voice came out of the gloom in the alley beside her.
“Well, ‘ello luv. What we got ‘ere?”
Her feet protested as she stumbled back, horrified to see the rough men emerging from the darkness, all of them leering at her. Dirty faces, broken teeth, dirty hands... they were like something out of a nightmare. Delilah collapsed.
2
The Tramp
Pink.He saw pink.
What wasthatcolor doing onhisstreets? No one in the Warrens could afford anything of that particular color, certainly not in such a bright hue. Not that such a thing would remain clean enough to maintain that condition.
Frowning, Henry’s eyes followed the quick-moving dress, then widened when he realized it was the same debutante, he’d been fantasizing about for weeks now, still wearing that atrocious pink dress. She was wildly out of place. Most of the people were watching her warily. A young woman, clearly a lady, running through the Warrens? Trouble. That’s what that was. His eyes darted behind her, to the direction she’d come from, and another bright color caught his eye—green.
So not Bow Street, then. That was good. Although many of the runners were bribable, not all were. Henry preferred not to tangle with them unless absolutely necessary. Certainly, not for a woman. Then, she was not just any woman, was she? She was the only woman who had ever burrowed into his mind and stayed there. His fantasies had become darker, more perverse with every passing day, and now, here she was as if fate had sent her to him.
“Butch. Green livery. Send him off.” Henry pointed down the street, not even bothering to look. He knew his man would take care of it. His eyes were already on the vision in pink.
He was not the only one. Rowdy Roddy’s men were emerging from the alley beside her, grinning and elbowing each other over their find. Simpletons. It did not even occur to them to look and see if she was alone. That was why so many of them ended up on the gallows. Roddy was too stupid to lead, yet he had an innate charm that drew a few followers to him. None of the caliber Henry would want working for him.
Seeing them, she sank down to the ground, dropping out of his sight, and Henry lurched forward.
“Roddy,” he barked out the leader of the gang’s name. “She’s mine.”
The barrel-chested tough turned, looked disappointed, but immediately backed away. The rest of his crew had already scattered back into the alley, the moment they’d heard Henry’s voice. On the ground, in a puddle of pink skirts, hands pressed flat against the rough stone, the lady in pink looked up at him. There was something broken about her—her eyes were listless, and her expression was one he’d seen many times in the Warrens—hopeless. She was a far cry from the bubbly young lady he’d seen walking through Hyde Park, yet this sad, broken creature drew him even more than that one.
Creamy breasts heaving, pink lips parting as she panted for breath, she stared back at him, waiting.
Beside him, Frank cleared his throat, reminding Henry they were standing in the street.
Henry held out his hand. “Come along, Lady.”
She stared at his proffered fingers, appearing shocked, then her expression changed to one of apology. She huddled inward, reminding him of a dog who expected to be kicked.
“I... I do not think I can stand, sir, even with assistance.”
Her soft voice, slightly husky, rolled over him. He wanted to hear what it sounded like when she cried out with pain, when she screamed with pleasure. His cock was already hardening.
Nodding, he stepped forward and scooped her up in his arms before she could protest. She was a slight weight against his chest, some of the curves he’d observed the first time he’d seen her gone. Indeed, her ribs felt almost bony under his hand, and he frowned. Whatever had happened to her in the intervening weeks, clearly it had been detrimental, but there would be time to find out what.
Perhaps Butch would be able to shed some light when he returned. Whatever her pursuer had to say would certainly be worth hearing. Hopefully, Butch would think to question the man before sending him off, but if not, there were other ways to get information.
To his surprise, the lady did not fight him or even question where he was taking her. She just snuggled up trustingly against his chest, bemusing him. Perhaps fatehadbrought her to him.
* * *
Lady Delilah Darling
Her rescuer was very strong.
