Taming The Bride (Brides of Mayfair 2) (28 page)

“Alright, Mungo,” Alfred said as they trotted toward the posh-looking house on the corner of Eddlington Street. “This is The Black Swan, another of Cage’s brothels. Prudence may be held somewhere inside. We’ll go round to the back door and you keep your pistol trained on whoever answers.”

Mungo held up a pistol and a curved knife. “Don’t worry milord, we’ll soon get ’em talkin.’”

They’d been to one brothel already, The Zephyr, but found nothing. Mungo had snatched a young man working there when he stepped outside for a smoke, dragged him into an alley and roughed him up while Alfred asked the questions. But the shaken footman told them no one matching Prudence’s description had been brought in to The Zephyr that night.

They had the names of several brothels thanks to Minnie’s information. Of course, there could be more establishments they didn’t know about, but at least it was a starting point.

The thought of Prudence out there somewhere with God-knew-what happening to her made Alfred almost mad with fury. But he had to put those feelings aside now, and focus on finding her before it was too late.

Alfred and Mungo climbed over the wrought-iron fence surrounding the property and ran across the dark gardens toward the back of the house. The windows were lit inside and the sounds of men talking and laughing echoed through the night. Light female voices trickled over top.

Approaching the back door, Mungo reached out a meaty fist and knocked upon it. In a few moments it opened and a big, burly man filled the door frame.

“McTavish?” Mungo said, lowering his pistol.

“Mungo Church?” the man said, the hint of a grin on his broad face. He looked around before stepping outside to greet them. “You old sea dog! I thought you was dead.”

“I could say the same about you, Tav,” Mungo replied, slapping the man on the back. “Will wonders never cease.”

“How long you been in London, bucko?” McTavish asked. “Or are ye still sailin’ the old briny?”

“I’m retired from that life,” Mungo said. “I work for a lady now—Miss Atwater. She’s gone missing. That’s why we’re here. We need your help, Tav.”

“You don’t have to ask, Mungo,” he replied. “You’ve got it. What can I do?”

“This is Lord Weston,” Mungo said. “Miss Atwater is in love with him.”

Alfred shot a surprised glance at Mungo, who continued, “Even if she don’t know it, milord, she is. And ’e loves her too. Miss Atwater is a strong-willed young lady, but brave as they come. She ’elps girls like what work here, takes them off the street and gives them an education. She found me on the street, I was almost dead. She took me in and nursed me, and taught me to read.”

“You can read?” McTavish asked, amazed.

“Yeah, and do numbers and everything,” Mungo explained. “But Miss Atwater’s generosity has got ’er into hot water. She’s made some powerful enemies, and we think one of ’em snatched ’er.”

“We think the brothel owner, Mr. Cage, has abducted her,” Alfred said. “We know this is one of his establishments. Have there been any new girls brought in tonight?”

McTavish led them a few steps away from the house, saying, “This is one of Mr. Cage’s houses. And I could lose my job for tellin’ ye so—or worse. But old Mungo saved me life once, so I owe him. There hasn’t been any new girls brought here tonight, but I heard tell of somethin’ big going on at one of the other houses, one called, The Sapphire. It’s not as well-known as the other houses—very exclusive—on Frederick Place. There’s to be an auction…a new girl was brought in. I don’t know much more than that.”

“Was there a description of this girl?” Alfred asked.

McTavish shook his head. “No. But one of the other guards was sent over there for crowd control, in case things get out of ’and. That’s all I know.”

Alfred exchanged a look with Mungo. “Let’s go. We haven’t a moment to lose.”

“Just wait,” McTavish said, pulling out a key ring. He took one off and handed it to Mungo. “The house number is fourteen, and this might come in ’andy when ye get there.”

“Much obliged,” Mungo said with a grin.

“Our thanks to you, Mr. McTavish,” Alfred said as they turned to depart.

If Prudence was indeed to be sold at some diabolical auction, they had to get to The Sapphire fast.

For it wasn’t just Prudence who might be sold…it was Alfred’s unborn child, as well. His family, dammit!

His father was going to pay for this, very dearly indeed.

Quickly returning to the carriage, Alfred gave Matthews the address. The driver took them to Frederick Place, and soon they were standing on the street, planning a two-pronged attack.

“I’ll go up on the roof and shimmy down to one of the upper windows,” Alfred said. “You use the key McTavish gave you and enter through the back door. Once inside, tell them he sent you as an extra guard for the auction. Try to discover where Prudence is being held. And don’t be afraid to use your weapons.”

Mungo gave him a look. “Have I ever been, milord?”

Alfred nodded. “Right. Meet you inside. Good luck, Mungo.”

“And good luck to you, milord,” Mungo said, then disappeared around the house.

Alfred went to the adjacent alleyway and looked for a way up. Seeing a thick drainpipe against a wall, he tested it for stability. Satisfied, he began slowly climbing up. He grit his teeth as his muscles were tested, but kept going. As an intelligence officer in the war, he’d scaled fortress walls and rock faces—this was nothing new for him.

The only thing new about this rescue scenario was that his emotions were involved. A woman he loved more than life itself was inside. If anything happened to Prudence, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Soon he was up and over the edge of the roof, walking quickly across it to the building that housed The Sapphire brothel. Finding another drainpipe, Alfred shimmied down to an upper ledge and stepped onto it. He came to the first window and could see through a gap in the heavy curtains. A man and woman were engaged in sex upon the bed, but the woman was blonde.

He moved to the next window and looked inside. It was empty. He started to move along, but his eye caught sight of something.

A foot.

It pushed out again from behind the end of the big bed. Then Alfred saw a glimpse of wild auburn hair.

Prudence
.

Goddammit, she was struggling…of anyone was hurting her, he’d kill them with his bare hands.

He tried to open the window but it was locked from the inside. Using his elbow, he broke one of the glass panes as gently as he could, trying to be quiet. He pushed out the broken pane and reached inside, unlocking the window.

Prudence’s head popped up over the side of the bed, and her eyes lit up when she saw him.

“Alfred?” she said in disbelief as he came through the window.

He rushed to her side, checking her for injuries and pulling her in for a heated kiss.

“Are you alright?” he asked, brushing her hair from her face. “Have you been hurt? Dear God, Prudence, I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m alright,” she assured. “It’s your father, Alfred—he’s Mr. Cage.”

“I know,” he replied, cutting the bonds from her wrists and pulling the chewed gag from where it lay rent around her neck.

“You
know
?” she asked as he helped her to her feet.

“We found the note he sent to you, asking to meet,” he said. “Mother told me a chilling story about their marriage, and why she went to Italy. I’ll tell you all when we are safely out of here.”

“And just where do you think you’re going?” a voice asked from the doorway.

Alfred shoved Prudence behind him, faced his father, and cocked his pistol.

Chapter 26

Alfred stared at the man who had taken so much from him—his mother, his childhood—and who wanted to take more from him, still.

Lord Harrington levelled his own pistol at his son. “Put down your gun, boy. We both know you won’t shoot me.”

“If you truly believe that, you don’t know me at all,” Alfred replied, darkly. “You took Mother away from me for all those years. You’re not taking Prudence, too.”

Harrington sneered. “Women are all the same, Alfred. They only weaken a man. Look at you now—willing to die for this little baggage? What a fool you are.”

“I have been a fool to believe you my entire life,” he said, “as well as my brothers did. We believed your lies. But we aren’t children anymore. We can judge for ourselves. You’re nothing more than a manipulator, a cheat, and a user of women…and I despise you for it.”

The earl gave a snake-like smile. “I have built an empire and I have no regrets. But you soon will if you don’t step away and wash your hands of this girl, immediately.”

“Never,” Alfred replied, still aiming the pistol at his father. “I’ll blow your brains out before I let you take Prudence.”

“Why should you ’ave all the fun, milord?” It was Mungo, his pistol pressed against the back of Lord Harington’s head. “I was hoping I might ’ave a go at it, what with the fact that ’e could ’ave killed one of the girls or Dolly by settin’ fire to the school.” He stepped closer, growling in Lord Harrington’s ear, “Dolly Simms is going to be my wife, sir, and the mother of my children, and I don’t take kindly to anyone threatenin’ my family—which, by the way, Miss Atwater is, too.
She is my family
. And you are done tormenting ’er.”

Lord Harrington glared, saying, “We seem to be at a stalemate.”

“No,” Mungo said, “no stalemate. There are two pistols pointed at ye, and ye only have the one. That is not a stalemate. That is you being out-gunned, and losing.” He pressed his pistol harder into the back of Harrington’s head. “Now you just come in here and do what ol’ Mungo tells ye.”

Alfred yanked the pistol from his father’s hand and kept that one trained on him, too.

“Hands behind yer back,” Mungo ordered, sheathing his pistol and pulling a length of rope from an inner pocket of his jacket. He tied Lord Harrington’s hands behind him and then shoved him to the floor, fastening the man’s wrists to the bedpost, as Prudence’s had been.

Ripping part of the bedsheet, Mungo tied it around Lord Harrington’s mouth, gagging him.

“There,” Mungo said. “That ought to hold ’im til the constables arrive. Now, to get us out of ’ere….”

“Are there many guards downstairs, Mungo?” Alfred asked.

“Only two that I saw, one at the front door, and the other one roaming about,” he replied. “Most of the patrons are drunk, so we won’t find much resistance there.”

Alfred opened an armoir and pulled out a black silk cloak. He pulled it over Prudence’s shoulders and raised the hood to cover her red hair. “I say we make a break for it, go downstairs out the back door. Escaping through the window is risky. I’d have to climb down the drainpipe with Prudence on my back and that might be difficult to manage. But we must go quickly. The longer we stay here, the harder it will be to get out.”

“So right, milord,” Mungo agreed. “Give one of the pistols to Miss Atwater. I taught ’er how to shoot. But if we go quickly, there’ll be no need to.”

Alfred gave a pistol to Prudence. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied. “Let’s get out of here.”

Alfred ushered them into the hallway, closing the door on his protesting father. He led the way to the far end of the hall, with Prudence behind him and Mungo taking up the rear. As they passed several rooms they could hear the sounds of copulation from inside a few. At least the patrons inside wouldn’t notice their departure.

Now to the back stairway.

Alfred opened the door and scanned for signs of danger. “All clear,” he said. “Let’s go.”

They ran down the stairs as quietly as they could, soon reaching the main floor. In a few steps they would be free.

Alfred turned a corner and saw a big bear of a man standing idly near the back door….one of the guards. There was nothing for it, they were too close, now. Alfred raised his pistol—Prudence and Mungo followed suit.

“Get out of the way,” he said to the burly guard. “We’ve no beef with you, but I’ll put a hole in your head of you don’t move. Now!”

The man stared at them silently, then moved out of the way with no more pressing.

Alfred opened the door and led the trio out into the back garden, ushering Prudence to safety. He wanted to pull her into his arms right now and crush her to him, but there was no time. They had to get to the carriage and back to the townhouse.

Alfred, Prudence and Mungo ran down the dark street. Alfred looked behind them, but saw that no one chased them. The guard from the brothel obviously didn’t get paid enough for that.

Once inside the carriage, Alfred cradled Prudence in his arms as they pulled away and headed home. Mungo sat opposite them, his pistol still drawn and ready as he looked out the window, scanning the street for trouble.

“It’s alright,” Alfred said as Prudence buried her head in his shoulder. “I’ve got you, now. I’ve got you.”

But did he really? He and Mungo had rescued Prudence from the brothel. That much was true. But would she choose to remain in Alfred’s life as he truly wanted her…as his wife?

It was a question he resolved to have answered, one way or another.