When a Marquis Chooses a Bride (20 page)

The woman raised one shoulder in a shrug. “As you will. You'll find nothing.”

Dotty rose and strode directly to the door.

“Here now, that's my private quarters. You can't go in there!”

Matt grabbed the woman's wrist. “You said we could look around.”

She opened the door, which led to a flight of stairs, but Dom held her back. “I'll go first.”

He took the stairs two by two. She hitched her skirts up following as quickly as she could. At the top of the stairs there was a short corridor with doors on either side. A sickly smell permeated the air.

Oh God, no!
She took out her handkerchief, placing it over her nose. “Opium. Cover your nose.”

He did as she asked, tying a piece of linen over his face. “How do you know?”

“We had to use it for one of our tenants.” She tried to open the window at the end of the corridor. “It's stuck.”

He managed to open it a couple of inches, but no more. “Probably nailed. Stand back.” He kicked at the window, his boot shattering the glass. Then he grabbed a chair by one of the doors and smashed out the rest of the wood.

An outraged scream came from below.

“What's he doin' to me house?”

Dotty opened the door next to her. A pot stood on a small brazier in a corner of the room. A dark-haired female, wearing only a soiled chemise, was curled up on a small cot. “I think I found one of the women, but we need to get air in here and throw out the opium.”

Dom pulled on the sash. Once again it opened only a few inches. “They're probably all nailed shut.” He broke that window as well. “There now, you can toss the pot out.”

Dotty grabbed a thin blanket and wrapped it around the brazier to keep her hands from burning, and tossed it out the window. She glanced at him and grinned, but he was already on his way to the next room.

They entered each chamber, breaking the glass to allow fresh air inside, and ridding the rooms of the braziers. Once done, she took stock of the women. There were six in all. None of them wore more than a grimy chemise. One looked to be hardly more than a girl. Had they all come from Mrs. White's house?

Chest heaving, Dom stood in the center of the last chamber. “We need more carriages.”

“Where are we going to take them?”

“Someplace where they can recover from the drug.” Lady Merton stood in the doorway covering her nose and mouth.

The energy that had driven Dotty began to fade, and the terror of what they had found struck her. Tears of rage stung her eyes. “I have never seen anything so evil.”

Heedless of his mother's presence, Dom wrapped his arms around her. “You are distressed. Perhaps you should confine yourself to rescuing animals.”

Although the words were pompous, and condescending, she thought she heard a hopeful note in his voice. He had probably never even imagined places like this existed. And as hard as this was to see, once she was Lady Merton, she would have the resources to do even more good than she'd done before. “No. This is just the beginning. I shall request a meeting with Lady Evesham and some of the other ladies. We shall find where the need is most pressing.” Dotty leaned back, peering into Dom's face. “You won't try to stop me, will you?”

He pulled her back against his chest, and in a resigned voice, answered, “I wonder if I have a choice.”

Yet he did. He would have the ability to attempt to curtail her actions. She had known he'd never been involved with charitable causes before, but surely he must now see the need. Yet what if he did not? How would that affect their future and their hope of finding love?

Chapter Seventeen

Suddenly, the sounds of groans, fisticuffs, furniture breaking, and a few feminine shrieks echoed up from downstairs. What the devil were Worthington and Horton doing down there?

Dom set Thea aside and pulled out his pistol as boots pounded up the stairs. Worthington erupted into the corridor.

Putting the gun back in his coat, Dom took stock of his cousin. Worthington's normally neatly tied cravat was crumpled and askew. The knuckles of one hand were bruised, and a red mark, which was certain to change color, marred his jawline. “Been having fun?”

A gleam entered Worthington's eyes. “You could say that. Miss Betsy's men are subdued, and we have the other women in the drawing room.” He bowed to Dom's mother. “Grace asks you join her there to speak to the women.”

“I would be delighted.” Despite everything, Mama smiled. “Although the circumstances here are horrific, I have not felt so alive and useful in years.”

Dom stifled a groan. His life was never going to be the same. “We need to figure out what to do with the females up here. They've all been drugged.”

Worthington's grin grew larger. “I wondered why you were kicking out all the windows. Not your usual pastime.”

Dom tried and failed to achieve a level of haughtiness necessary to depress his cousin's good humor. Truth be told, he hadn't had such a good time since he was a young boy.

“They were nailed shut.” Dotty smiled up at him, emerald eyes glittering with pride. “He was magnificent.”

The urge to puff his chest out came over him. He hadn't expected praise for acting like a bruiser. The way Thea was looking at him warmed his heart and other regions of his body as well. He held her against him. “Thank you.” He glanced at his cousin again. “Does Major Horton look any better than you?”

“No, slightly worse. He got a vase smashed over his head.”

“Oh no.” Dotty's hand flew to her lips. “The poor major. I hope he had enough fun that it will make up for the lump that's sure to be on his head.”

What an appalling thing to say. “Thea!”

She turned a wide gaze on him. “Papa says men like to get into a tussle every once in a while. Do you not?”

Dom was about to deny he enjoyed any such thing, but it would be a lie. Why else did he go to Jackson's Salon? Still, it could not continue. He'd so far forgotten himself as to bring his mother and his innocent Thea to a brothel. This could never happen again. He had to remember his duty.

“I completely agree with Thea,” his mother said. “Your behavior here reminds me of your father.”

He stared at her for a moment and was about to ask what she meant, but a low moan made him glance at the pitiful female huddled on the cot. “We need to find a place for these women.”

Thea pressed her lips together. “First we must find them something to wear. They cannot leave dressed only in a chemise.”

This room, like the others, was bare, except for a cot, chair, and chamber pot. “Not even a wardrobe.”

“We should get them something to eat as well. Let's find the kitchen. The women will be safe enough here until we return. Matt, please make sure none of the Runners comes up here.”

He saluted her and she followed Dom down the stairs. The parlor they'd been in before was in chaos. Miss Betsy's hands were tied behind her back and her thin gown torn in places. A shawl hung over her shoulders hiding her breasts from view. The maid who had served them wine huddled in a corner, cringing.

Thea went straight to the girl. “Don't be afraid, we're not going to hurt you. Can you help me take some broth and a bit of bread to the women upstairs?”

The girl nodded. “Yes, my lady. Cook should still be in the kitchen. Don't think anyone's thought to look down there.”

Much to his surprise, the kitchen was well appointed and clean. Several pots were on one of the new closed stoves and a large, rotund female was giving orders to two maids.

The cook finished stirring one pot, before glancing up, then spearing the poor maid with a fierce look. “Lucy, what do you mean by bringing Quality down here?”

Thea stepped in front of the girl. “I told her I needed to speak with you.”

The cook's hands went to her ample hips. “And just who are you?”

Thea stiffened and raised a brow. “I am Miss Stern. My betrothed, Lord Merton, and I found the women who were drugged. As soon as they are awake, they should be fed. Is there a housekeeper in residence?”

The cook eyed Thea suspiciously. “Where's the mistress?”

“The Bow Street Runners have restrained her.”

The cook made a sign of the cross. “Thank the Lord.”

Dom put a hand on his forehead, unable to believe what he was hearing. His uncle had always told him people picked their lives. Yet the women above clearly had not and now the cook seemed happy to be rescued as well. None of this made any sense.

One of the scullery maids peeped up at him. She couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen and very pretty. “Am I safe now, Mrs. Oyler?”

The cook smiled at the girl. “Mayhap ye are, sweetie.” Mrs. Oyler's gaze switched to Thea. “I'll get the soup ready, but I don't like my girls going through the house. It's too dangerous.”

“It's all right now, ma'am,” Lucy said. “Ain't no one in the parlor, and I'll help.”

“Here, miss, sit ye down.” the cook said to Thea. “I'll get you and his lordship a cup of scandal broth. I'm Mrs. Oyler.”

Thea took the chair offered, as did he. Once they were given tea and fresh bread with butter, Thea indicated Mrs. Oyler should sit as well. “Tell me why you are here.”

“After my man died, it was hard for a Papist to find a job. Mrs. Spencer took me in and gave me a position. This was a respectable lady's house before that Miss Betsy got her hands on it. Acted like a fine lady, she did, and bought it from my old mistress's heirs. I thought about leaving, but without a reference it's hard to find work. Then I found my calling. Some of the girls brought in were young. Younger than May over there.” She pointed to the pretty girl. “I started finding them apprenticeships and helping them escape. I think Miss Betsy caught on, because that's when she started with the opium.”

It didn't take much imagination to figure out the rest. Once the women were dependent on the drug, they'd do anything to have it again. After that, they would have nowhere to go.

“Miss,” Mrs. Oyler asked, “what do you mean to do?”

“Rescue the women who wish to leave.” Thea sipped her tea. A small crease appeared between her brows. “First of all, we must have clothes and clean chemises for the women Lord Merton and I found. I'll discuss where they will live with Lady Merton and Lord and Lady Worthington. I am sure we'll think of something.”

The cook folded her hands on the table. “I'd be glad to help.”

Thea nodded thoughtfully. “I have a feeling we'll need all the assistance we can get. This turned into a much larger undertaking than I had imagined.”

That was the understatement of the Season. Dom stifled his groan. If he didn't get control of her soon, his lot in life would consist of following her around on her missions of mercy just to keep her out of scrapes. His uncle would have apoplexy if he could see Dom now. He was just amazed she hadn't suggested that he buy
this
house. However, the day wasn't done. She had plenty of time yet.

Mrs. Oyler heaved her bulk up and set about giving orders for bowls of soup and bread to be prepared and taken upstairs.

Thea rose. “Thank you, Mrs. Oyler. I'll come back down before we leave.”

He'd stood as soon as Thea had, then followed her back up the stairs. “Why do you need to see the cook again?”

“Why, to reassure her she has a position. We can't leave her without a job. After all, there is no point in saving people from one bad situation only to put them in another.”

Two more servants at least and a few houses; he should never have let Worthington talk him into allowing Thea to keep her own money. It would all be spent on charity. “You have a point.”

She stopped one step up from him, cupped his cheek, and lightly put her lips to his. “Thank you. I didn't mean to make so much trouble for you.”

Slipping his arm around her, he teased her mouth open. Her tongue tangled with his as he tried to keep his desire under control. He must be going mad. All he could think was that this was worth every penny. “No trouble at all. We had better see how everyone else is doing.”

When they arrived back in the parlor, his mother, the Worthingtons, Major Horton, and five women were talking quietly. Miss Betsy was gone, presumably with the Runners.

His mother patted the seat next to her on a settee. “Bow Street will keep a man here and we will send one as well to stop anyone from entering the house. These
ladies
wish to leave.” She placed an emphasis on the word. “The rest wish work elsewhere. Apparently, this place was like a gaol to everyone here.”

Everyone except the ones the cook helped to escape. Dom had a new respect for the women who had survived such mistreatment. “Where will they go?”

“That is what we've been discussing,” Grace said. “These ladies as well as the ones upstairs were kidnapped. Almost all of them have military husbands on assignments out of the country.” She paused for a moment. “They need a home until their men return and may still require a home afterward.”

It took Dom a few moments to understand her meaning. Then he wondered how he could have been so slow. After what they had been through, their husbands might not want them back.

Grace continued. “They can stay here for a few days, but we need to find a more permanent place.”

“I am not sure that is a good idea,” his mother said. “They all wore heavy makeup in an attempt to disguise themselves. If they are seen here we will have no hope of salvaging their reputations. Everyone would know what they've been forced to do.”

Dom didn't think they had a chance in hell of saving the women's reputations, but he knew now that he, all of them, would do whatever they could. Thea chewed her lip. He hoped she'd stop before she masticated it completely.

“A widows' house,” she finally said.

Everyone else's eyes lit up. Only he was left in the dark. “A widows' house?”

Thea nodded in that excited way she had when she'd come up with an idea. “Yes. A home for the widows of military men and wives of those deployed. That will also allow us to give jobs to the maids and the cook.”

“We can raise funds for them,” Grace added. “Perhaps even obtain money from the government.”

Glancing at Dom, Worthington rubbed his jaw. “Would you support a bill?”

Thea gazed up at him lovingly. No matter what he had to do, he wanted her to always look at him like that. “Yes. The way we've treated our soldiers and their families is disgraceful.”

One of the women near Grace began to sob. Grace bent down and rubbed the woman's back. “There, there, it will be all right. You'll see.”

Another of the ladies put her arm around the woman crying. “It's dinnertime. She'll be better after she eats.”

“Major Horton,” Thea said, “would you object if we moved them into the house you are in until we can find a more permanent solution?”

He was silent for a few moments. “I don't think I have the right to deny them shelter. After all, if you had not discovered Mrs. White's doings, my wife might have been one of the women upstairs. I don't know how many beds there are. We'll probably have to take some bedding from here.”

“Once it is dark,” Grace said, “we can ferry them from the mews at the back of the house.” She glanced at Worthington. “Can the footmen handle it on their own?”

“I'm sure they can.”

Most of the women were at Miss Betsy's because of Mrs. White and, although none wanted to return, it was better than remaining where they were. The cook and maids decided to accompany the other women to St. George Street.

“Well”—Dom's mother rose and shook out her skirts— “now that it is settled for the time being, we should take our leave.”

Worthington, Thea, and Major Horton rode in one coach. Grace and Mama rode with Dom. With Thea gone, his mother and Grace were more forthright about the women's stories.

“The young lady that started to cry . . .” Grace said.

He nodded.

“She had only been married a few months when her husband was called away. Mrs. White gave her a drink and that night she lost her baby. Less than a week later, she was brought here. The madam tried to give her the opium, but she became deathly ill. She'd resisted being used, but was told that they'd tie her down and let several gentlemen have her.”

Dom's stomach turned sour, and a rage blacker than he'd ever felt before speared him. Things like this had been going on all around him, and he had not even known about it. Worse, he had refused to listen to those who tried to tell him.

His mother's countenance flushed with anger. “They all have stories like that. Even the girls who had chosen to be prostitutes before they came to the house were not allowed to leave and were made to do unspeakable things.”

He leaned back against the squabs. “Thank you for not discussing this with Miss Stern present. I am afraid it would shock her too much.”

Grace's eyes widened. “I shall discuss it with Dotty when I return. She deserves to know. Look at all the lives she has changed today. Besides, it doesn't do any good to keep girls ignorant.”