All was quiet when she entered the house. Now that Mrs. O’Leary had caught her in Lizbeth’s room rummaging through her box of belongings, her sense of happiness in this house had vanished. Now all she felt was nervous.
“There you are.” Mrs. O’Leary’s greeting had Pamela jumping. “I was waiting for you to return to see if you can do me a favor.”
A favor? She was expecting a lecture, but Mrs. O’Leary looked perfectly normal and was even smiling.
Pamela nodded, her mouth dry from being startled. “Of c-c-course.”
“Thank you. If you will come with me to the kitchen, I need a few things picked up from the greengrocer.”
Pamela followed her down the corridor to the kitchen. Mrs. O’Leary picked up a sheet of paper from her worktable and handed it to her. “Some of these items I need for supper tonight, so if you could go straightaway, I would appreciate it.”
“C-c-certainly.”
She took the note from Mrs. O’Leary’s hand and headed back out the front door. That had certainly been a surreal encounter. Here she had expected a tirade from her landlady, and possibly even an eviction, and instead her landlady was as sweet as ever and asked for a favor. She shook her head at how complicated her once very happy and calm life had become.
A man she’d never seen before stood on the pavement three houses down. When she turned to head toward the greengrocer, he followed her. Panic set in. Her heart pounded and her mouth dried up. She crossed the road, so did he. He wasn’t even hiding his actions.
She sped up, almost running. Mr. Smith had been right; it was time to leave her boarding house. It wasn’t safe there for her. In fact, it probably wasn’t a good idea to even return now. Instead of the greengrocer, she would go to Lottie’s house, which was only a ten-minute walk.
As she made her way there, taking note of the man who continued to pursue her, she realized she couldn’t bring Lottie into this. She was expecting a baby and her husband would not be happy to have her stressed.
Nick.
Relief flooded her. She would go to him. He would know what to do and he said he could keep her safe. But first she had to at least see Lottie and let her know she would not be meeting with them for a while, so she and Addie didn’t worry.
Out of breath, she hurried up the steps to Westbrooke’s townhouse and dropped the knocker. She must have looked a mess because the butler’s eyes grew wide as he let her in and immediately left to summon Lottie.
After only a few minutes, Lottie came down the stairs to the entrance hall. “Pamela, what’s wrong? We just left you not more than an hour ago.” She put her hands out and hugged her.
“I c-c-can’t tell you wh-what’s wrong. It would be d-d-dangerous for you.”
“What!” Lottie pulled her into the drawing room and they both sat on the settee.
Pamela wiped the perspiration from her upper lip. “I m-must go away f-for a while. I can’t t-t-tell you why or where, but I will b-b-be in touch as s-s-soon as I can. There is s-s-someone who can help me, and I need to get th-there quickly. I hope to be b-b-back in time for your b-baby.” She smiled warmly at Lottie’s growing stomach.
Lottie stared at her, her mouth agape. “Whatever are you talking about? Who can help you? Where are you going?”
Pamela jumped up to head to the door. “I can’t s-say anymore. Just know th-that I love you and Addie, and I w-will contact you as s-soon as I c-can.” She leaned over and gave Lottie a kiss on the cheek and left.
Her heart thundering in her chest, she stepped out the front door and looked around. The man following her was nowhere in sight. That frightened her even more. She had to find a way to Mr. Smith’s club. With the little bit of money on her, she would try to secure a hack. Even if she didn’t have enough, she was sure Mr. Smith would pay the driver when she arrived.
She made it to the center of town, feeling a little safer with everyone around going in and out of stores. The best place to find a hack would be in front of the rail station, so she headed there.
Lost in thought, she looked back and forth before crossing the road about a block from the station. The sound of rapid horse hoofs caught her attention and she looked to her left.
A very large and very fast approaching carriage headed directly toward her. She turned to step back onto the pavement, but the carriage followed her. Someone near her shouted and pushed her away from the charging vehicle. The back end of the carriage hit her, knocking her to the ground. She slammed her head against something hard and everything went black.
Nick checked his timepiece as he quickly made his way up the steps of The Lion’s Den. He’d just left one of his contacts in the underworld and it was nearing the time the club would open for the night. Dealing with Pamela’s problem had taken his time and attention away from his affairs. Although he had numerous employees who were competent and trustworthy, it still was not a good idea to neglect the business he worked so hard to build.
The meeting with Wesley, a hardened criminal who had his fingers in every underworld business in Bath and London, had been productive. It had taken him four days to cut through Wesley’s layers of protection to be able to talk to him. And talk, he did. Knowing Nick was a man to keep his mouth closed about where his information had come from, Wesley was happy to give him what he needed to know to cut into a competitor’s takings.
Nick had left Wesley’s presence with a good reason to believe Pamela’s friend, Miss Davenport, had been taken from her room at the boarding house in the middle of the night and sold into a brothel in London. Something he dreaded telling her.
Every time he thought of Pamela living in that boarding house, so close to danger, his gut tightened. If it was the last thing he did, he’d get her out of there and into somewhere safe.
She’d had lived there for three years she’d told him and the only reason he could think of that she hadn’t been abducted herself was because she was a member of the ton. With all the young women without funds or family, who arrived in Bath and London from small villages seeking employment, procurers had enough ripe pickings without dealing with a member of the aristocracy’s family coming down on their heads.
He strolled through the front room, watching his employees prepare for the night, setting up gaming tables, stocking liquor behind the bar, placing platters of food in the dining room. Satisfied that all looked well, he took the steps two at a time to the upper level to his office. Although he hated this part of the job, he pulled out his ledgers to go over the previous night’s sales and takes.