The Redemption of a Rogue (The Duke's By-Blows #4) - Jess Michaels Page 0,2
she began to thrash, tugging to escape him.
He was about to release her when she cried out, “No, please! Don’t! They’ll kill me! Don’t!”
He froze at those words. How many months had he come here, searching for some proof that nefarious things were happening within these walls? Dark and desperate things, like murder.
And now this slender reed of a woman all but shouted that proof in his face. The extremely beautiful and terrified face now turned up toward his. His heart stuttered at the abject terror reflected in a remarkable pair of amber eyes. Almost like a cat’s, they were so lovely.
“What is going on, miss?” he snapped out, perhaps more harshly than he intended thanks to the shock of her crashing into his chest, her wild words and her lovely eyes.
“Please!” she wailed, her voice catching now. “They’re coming! They’re right behind me. You must release me or I’ll never get away.”
He heard voices from behind the door, shouts within the walls of the building, and it kicked him from his shock. He grasped her arm and yanked her toward the carriage. She scrambled to escape as he hauled her up and slammed the door shut.
“Stop kicking me,” he growled, tugging her even closer and speaking low against her ear. “I am trying to help you.”
As he said the words, the door to the club opened and two large men burst out. Oscar leaned closer to the window, but didn’t recognize either of them. Two of Maggie’s ruffians, it seemed.
The woman froze in his arms, trembling as one of them shouted up to his driver, “Did you see a whore come out here?”
“Went that way,” Bentley said from above, and the men took off toward the docks.
Oscar smiled. He only hired the best. And Bentley would get a nice bonus in his wages this week for that lie.
“Please let me go,” the woman said, softly this time, and Oscar realized she was still in his arms, pressed with her back to his chest, her breath coming short and heavy.
He loosened his grip on her arms as he said, “Don’t run.”
She ignored him and lunged for the door. He sighed heavily and caught her wrist to pull her away from the door as gently as he could.
“Please don’t run,” he repeated. “I’ve no intention of hurting you. As I said, I want to help.”
Her struggle ceased, though from the way her body slumped, he felt it was more out of exhaustion than any kind of trust. She slid to the carriage seat across from his and he released her. She stared at him, wary, like a bird being stalked by a cat, and rubbed her wrist. He didn’t think he’d hurt her—he’d been trying very hard not to—but he wondered if she was trying to soothe herself with that touch.
“Why were those men chasing you?” he asked.
She didn’t respond, but folded her arms and looked longingly toward the door he was blocking.
He arched a brow. “Did you steal something?”
“No!” she cried out, indignant as she glared at him. “No, sir!”
“Then why were you running?” he repeated, more slowly, more firmly.
She shook her head. “Won’t you please let me out?” she asked. “The men are gone, at least for the moment. It will give me time to get a hack and go home.”
“That isn’t happening,” he said. “They could return at any moment. You’re clearly in danger, miss, and I am your best hope. Tell me what is going on.”
She bent her head, and her breath came sharp and hard in the quiet of the carriage. Oscar could see she was fighting tears. Winning that fight, though he wasn’t certain that would last long. Every graceful line of her body spoke of her deep fear. It wasn’t an act, it wasn’t a trick. In his line of work, he had long ago learned to spot those.
No, this was real.
“Please,” he said softly.
Her gaze lifted to his, and for a moment their eyes locked. He could see her reading him, analyzing if he could relieve her distress, or if he was just another part of it. Then her eyes darted back to her lap and she whispered, “They…they killed a woman. I-I saw her body.”
His gut clenched, and for a flash of a moment he thought he might cast up his accounts all over the carriage floor. But he drew a deep breath, calmed himself as he’d learned to do over the years, and opened the carriage door.