Page 170 of The Highlander's English Bride

She squeezed his hands. “Then we’ll simply have to make sure nothing happens to me.”

“Aye, that. Anyway, this other case . . . it involved children, little girls. They were . . .”

“Just say it, Graeme,” she gently urged.

“They were sold into prostitution, to brothels, mostly. Some of them catered to men with money and connections, including aristocrats.”

Sabrina closed her eyes for a few moments. When she opened them again, they glittered with fury. “Sometimes I wish I never had to set foot in London again.”

He kissed the back of her hand. “There is evil everywhere, love, but I take your point. London can be rather a sewer.”

“Honestly, these stupid Lochnagar smugglers are nothing compared to monsters that harm children,” she fiercely said.

“True, enough.”

“Was it a case you worked with Aden?”

“Yes, and three other agents. Aden always prioritizes cases in which women or children are subjected to danger or degradation.” Graeme flashed a wry smile. “And he doesn’t care whose toes he steps on, either.”

“Good for him. And good for you, too.”

He grimaced. “Eventually, yes. But things went sideways at one point. We were tracking a gang that was preying on children in the stews. On orphans mostly, ones who lived on the streets. But a family named Watson in Bethnal Green also came to my attention. The father occasionally ran errands for one of the madams at the center of the whole thing. Watson did the occasional nasty job for her, but nothing that would necessarily bring him to our notice.”

“Then what did?”

“Mrs. Watson. She was the break in the case. They had a girl of ten. She was a beautiful child and caught the attention of the madam, who offered Watson a considerable sum for the girl to work in her brothel.”

Sabrina had already gone pale, so he’d spare her the more horrific details. She needn’t know that with the father’s eager agreement, the madam had arranged the sale of the daughter at auction, the kind that attracted the vilest sorts of men.

“The girl’s mother stumbled upon the plan. In a panic, she went to a pub owned by a friend who was a former inquiry agent. The pub is often frequented by Bow Street Runners, which is how the matter came to our ears.”

Sabrina dug her nails into his hand. “Please tell me that you got to the child in time.”

“We did, but just barely. The poor woman had very little information to go on, other than the night the girl was to be turned over to the madam.”

“Why couldn’t you just arrest the madam?”

He shook his head. “It’s not that easy, I’m afraid.” Too many people in high places enjoyed the services of such establishments.

“It should be easy,” Sabrina said with a scowl.

He kissed her hand again. “True. As well as trying to rescue this child, we wanted to bring down the ring. That meant we had to both find the child, who had already been taken from her mother, and also catch the gang leaders in the act of procuring the girl.”

While Graeme had wanted to go after the girl, Aden and the other agents had thought tracking the madam would be more efficient. In the end, they’d decided to do both.

“What did you do?” she gently prompted.

“I discovered Watson’s hiding place. I should have gone for help then, but I was afraid of losing the girl if the bastard got spooked.” Graeme sighed. “Watson had told his daughter that she was to be a fancy lady’s companion, and that she would finally have nice clothes and lots to eat. The poor thing had no reason to doubt him. After all . . .”

“He was her father.” Sabrina’s gaze was soft with compassion.

“And children tend to believe their fathers.”

“What happened next?”

He’d found father and daughter holed up at a grubby tavern owned by the madam. Graeme had taken down two armed guards before he even got to the father. And Watson himself had been a right nasty piece of work, almost as big and burly as Graeme.

“I had to fight Watson in front of that terrified little girl. She was convinced I was a bad man attacking her father.” He snorted. “She whacked me over the head with the chamber pot. Gave me quite a nasty lump.”

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