Page 68 of Charity

The abbess smiled. “Another satisfied customer. Do excuse me? I need to attend to my customer and see that his companion survived that onslaught.” She tapped her finger against her lips. “I will never understand why rakish gentlemen try to be good. It only leads to unnecessary frenzy in the bedchamber once they get there. Bad for business to always be replacing broken girls. Unfortunately, you all have a short working life. Make sure you enjoy what you can of it.”

The abbess glided out the door and locked her in again. Agatha thumped her head against the mattress in frustration.

Oscar would never think to look for her here.

No one would ever find her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Oscar gripped Redding’s coat and pulled him closer. “Are you sure this is the place?”

“Hands off my servant, boy,” Staines growled.

Redding escaped Oscar’s grip and grimaced. “Yes, unfortunately. My sources say she was brought here around midday. The two thugs who grabbed her are well known, well enough known to be avoided at all costs. They were paid by the abbess and are currently arse-deep in rum down by the docks. That’s two less. But we have Mrs. Leyton’s footmen to contend with still. She does not employ small men.”

Staines straightened his footman’s coat. “How many inside?”

“Enough to be a problem. Two or three apiece.”

Staines winced. “We could mount a frontal assault.”

“And likely get you shot?” Redding laughed softly. “I don’t think so.”

The duke folded his arms across his chest and pouted. “I am not a magnet for stray bullets, Redding.”

“Despite all evidence to the contrary.” Redding chewed his lip, his eyes glued to the distant bawdy house. Staines couldn’t seem to let his servant get the last word, and continued arguing.

This situation was worse than Oscar had feared. In a bawdy house, Agatha could be made to do many an unspeakable act, and no one would help her. They would turn a blind eye to her distress, or likely cheer some bloody scoundrel on. Oscar clenched his fists, fighting his growing frustration. Outnumbered or not, he was going to get Agatha out of that place. She must be terrified.

He glanced at the duke and considered what his chances were of getting past Redding to gag him. The duke and his footman had been bickering like this all afternoon. Although they were discussing and throwing out ways and means of rescuing Agatha, Oscar could not quite make up his mind how to take them. They behaved like an old married couple, which was ridiculous since the duke was a well-known skirt-chaser. Yet there was an intimacy between them that neither man tried to hide. They seemed genuinely fond of each other, despite the differences in their social positions.

Redding sat back in his seat and met the duke’s gaze. “How amorous are you feeling today, Your Grace?”

An amused grin crossed the duke’s features, interest and more behind his smile. “We’re on a mission to rescue the damsel in distress, Redding. Now is hardly the time for experimentation.”

Oscar gaped. He did not want to leap to conclusions, but this pair made it ridiculously easy to do so. Heaven help them if any member of society noticed this close friendship and listened to their banter. The duke and his servant could get themselves arrested merely on the suspicion of unnatural affection. The duke’s reputation, and his entire family, could be ruined as a result of an unfounded rumor. If it were proved true, they could both lose their lives.

Redding sighed and gestured toward the bawdy house. “I meant there are women in there, Your Grace, and if memory serves, it’s been quite a while since you’ve selected a new one.”

The duke chuckled. “Why, Redding, I had not realized you paid that much attention to my personal life. But you are correct. I do feel a certain yearning even as we speak.”

A resigned expression flittered across Redding’s face as he turned away. “The Hunt Club needs another pretty face to replace that girl who went and got married.” Redding held out his hand for one of Oscar’s pistols. “You are known to personally interview potential candidates, are you not?”

“That I am.” The duke held out his hand for the other, but Oscar didn’t oblige either man. “Redding is a genius. You will wait here, my boy. We have a better chance of getting her out without you with us. Redding has an inkling this abduction is directed at you, personally, and that Agatha is the innocent party in all of it. I know your blood yearns for revenge, but I can walk in there and demand entry to any woman’s bed with Redding at my heels without anyone raising a fuss. He could probably watch me bed the girl and it wouldn’t be remarked upon.”

Redding rolled his eyes. “You hardly need an audience to get a rise, Your Grace.”

The duke barked a laugh, but didn’t seem to have a ready answer for a change. Redding’s grin appeared and disappeared as the silence lengthened.

Could Oscar trust the duke to bring Agatha to him unharmed? “Do you even know what Agatha looks like?”

The duke eased Oscar’s pistols from his grip and handed one to Redding. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, face of an angel. Answers to the nickname precious?”

Oscar nodded numbly. “Is there anything about my life that you could not find out? Surely some things are private?”

The duke chuckled. “You sleep on the left side of the bed and prefer one particular sexual position. The—”

Redding clamped his hand over the duke’s mouth to shut him up. “Enough now. If you say any more, the boy will likely never speak to you again.”