A woman entered.
“I thought Turkish trousers were the latest craze,” Saville muttered. “Seems to be cloaks with big, awful hoods.”
“What is it?” Lady Ridgeland asked. “Do you have news of that wretched girl?”
“That wretched girl,” the woman pulled back the cloak from her face, “brings news of herself in person.”
The breath left Warrick’s lungs.
“Selena?” Saville found his voice before Warrick could utter even one. She was such a beautiful sight. “How did you find us? No, what the hell are you doing in a brothel?”
Her eyes swept over the both of them, falling on his exposed chest and then flicking to the hand of Lady Ridgeland resting on his shoulder before locking with his eyes.
Confound it.
What was with this timing?
Her gaze turned to Saville. “I could ask the same of you, brother. Is this a kidnapping or a new rage in roleplay?”
“What the devil do you know of roleplay?” Saville asked, yet it came out as more of a mutter than a demand.
“I’m impressed, Lady Selena,” Lady Ridgeland said. “You didn’t respond to our missives so that you might follow us back here.”
“Oh, I cannot claim all the credit. I had help. A voice of patience. A voice of calm. A voice of a man even more determined to find you than I was.”
An unfamiliar feeling spread within Warrick’s chest.
A man.What man?
Lady Ridgeland titled her head to this side in thought. “There are many men who court my favor.”
“Then why go to such lengths? You know kidnapping is a crime. One you shall pay for dearly.”
“We shall see about that.”
What damn man?
Chapter Twenty
Selena removed apistol from waistband and pointed it at the woman before her, who she finally recognized as Lady Ridgeland. Wife to the Earl of Ridgeland and a distinctly unpleasant woman. “Let us see your hands. Any sudden movements, and I shoot.”
Lady Ridgeland slowly lifted her hands away from her body, Warrick’s body, palms up. “Careful now, you wouldn’t wish to act on an impulse you might regret later.”
“I assure you, I won’t.”
Honestly!
Selena had mistakenly thought nothing could surprise her anymore, yet the picture before her had her blinking—inwardly—not once, not twice, not even thrice. If any tipsiness remained, she had completely sobered up at the sight of Warrick, tied to a chair, muscles on display beneath a gaping shirt! Just what had happened here?
All in good time, Selena.
Now was not the time for her curiosity to bloom. Now was the time to stand firm, point a pistol, and wait while the duke made short work of any lingering threats in the establishment. His title alone had been enough to scare nearly everyone witless when they’d entered.
“Selena! You brought a bloody pistol?”
Selena cast a quick glance to her brother. “Of course. How else do you rescue someone?” Her gaze swept over the room. “Imust admit, I am quite surprised at the cheap interior. I thought the rooms would be flusher and a bit bawdier.” She turned to Lady Ridgeland. “You must be the cloaked woman from the warehouse.”
“I am,” Lady Ridgeland said. “I see you don’t have my book. Is it with this man you spoke of? I’m rather curious as to this man searching for me.”
