Page 24 of Introducing Miss Joanna (Once a Wallflower 2)

“Sally, I was so worried something awful had happened to you.”

“I’m so glad you’re safe, Miss Jo. A kind gentleman assisted me. He offered to take me home, but I told him I had to help this little boy who is ever so distressed.” She stroked the blond head of the wailing child. About six years old, he had a dirty face but seemed otherwise unhurt. “Poor Sam has lost his mother.”

“Never mind, lad, we’ll find her.” Reade knelt to address the boy, a hand on his shoulder. “What’s your mother’s name?”

“’err name’s Alice Crawley,” Sam said with a shuddering sob.

Reade stood and shouted Alice’s name. His deep voice echoed around the buildings. Those wandering the street turned to stare at them.

A woman in an apron hurried over to them. “I know ’er. Alice works at the inn near ’ere.” She gestured with an arm. “Saw ’er up that way, ’round the corner.”

Reade hoisted the boy onto his shoulders and strode off with Jo and Sally hurrying behind him.

They turned the corner.

“Ma!”

Sam’s mother perched on a step in a lane that ran down beside the barracks. Alice held her handkerchief to her cheek. Blood dribbled down her neck. Reade put Sam down, and the boy ran and threw himself into her arms.

“Sam!” She gathered him up with a sob.

Reade shrugged off Jo’s effusive thanks as they continued along the street.

“People will be rounded up and questioned,” he said. “You don’t want to be here when that happens. I cannot accompany you home, but I will see you safely into a hackney.”

“We are most grateful,” Jo said, chagrined for her earlier disparaging thoughts.

They entered a busy thoroughfare, and he flagged a hackney carriage. When it pulled up, Jo gave the jarvey the address in Upper Brook Street, Mayfair.

Reade stared at her for a long moment. He opened the carriage door. “Remember what I told you. You can’t just wander around London unescorted. Your maid can hardly protect you in situations like this.” He assisted them both inside. “You, too, Miss Sally. Country girls come to London and fall into the wrong hands,” he said. “The brothels are full of them.”

Sally blanched.

Jo glared at him, shocked at his bluntness. She was grateful for his help, but that was unnecessary. There was no need to alarm Sally. Jo’s benevolent attitude toward him evaporated. Surely there was no need to point out how naive and foolish she’d been. “Thank you for your help, sir,” she said stiffly.

An amused light sparked in Reade’s eyes. He shut the door and doffed his hat as the carriage pulled away.

“Well, that was quite an adventure, wasn’t it miss?” Sally fell back against the squab.

“I wasn’t aware the prince regent was so unpopular,” Jo said. “I only had a glimpse of him and the other gentleman beside him.” What she’d seen of the Regent disappointed her: a sulky, fleshy face, and plump body in an overly ornate coat. But she was pleased that he didn’t appear hurt.

“It’s the way he goes on, and the government, too. We’re worse off than we might have been if Napoleon had won the war.” Sally wrinkled her freckled nose. “You’ll feel more the thing when you get home and have a nice hot cup of tea.”

“I’m sure I will.”

The hackney entered the quiet Mayfair streets, the air fragrant with spring foliage and blossoms spilling over walls in the mansion gardens. Jo barely looked at the elegant houses they passed while she mused over how Reade could affect her emotions to such a degree. She basked in the warmth of approval from his dark eyes and hated his criticism so much she rushed to defend herself. And when he laughed at her, her fingers itched to slap him.

Sally glanced at her. “You were lucky the gentleman came to your aid, Miss Jo.”

“That I was,” she admitted.

“And so handsome, too,” Sally said with a gusty sigh.

“Do you think so?” Jo said, drawing in a breath. “I hardly noticed.”

Sally raised her fair eyebrows. “All that black hair. And those muscles! Hard to miss ’em.”

“Let us put the unpleasant episode behind us,” Jo said firmly.

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