Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“ T ake your hands off the lady,” said Keynsham. A feeling of great calm came over him.
The man looked him up and down with a sneer. “I don’t fink so.”
Keynsham flexed his hands happily. “I said, let go of her. Or I will give you a thrashing that you will not soon forget.”
Instead of answering, the ruffian twisted Miss Ryder’s wrist. “Ow!” she cried, dropping the pocketbook onto the filthy floor.
At that, Keynsham simply allowed all the rage inside him to flow into his fists. He let fly a neat jab that would have made anyone at Jackson’s boxing studio envious. His fist thumped satisfyingly into the man’s chest, sending him reeling backward a step or two. Miss Ryder stumbled free of his grasp.
The ruffian raised his fists. “Oh-ho! The gennleman finks he’s up to a scuffle, does ’e?” He swung—hard but without finesse—straight at Keynsham’s face.
Keynsham ducked the blow effortlessly, feinted, and got in a par of quick jabs to the man’s ribs before he could block them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shopkeeper sneaking toward them, holding a large brass candlestick.
Crack! The ruffian’s fist connected with Keynsham’s cheekbone.
Miss Ryder screamed. Blinking away stars, Keynsham knocked the candlestick out of the shopkeeper’s hands. In almost the same motion, he seized first the shopkeeper, then the ruffian by the napes of their necks and knocked their heads together.
Both men collapsed to their knees, groaning.
“Come with me!” He grabbed Miss Ryder’s hand.
“My pocketbook!” She scooped it off the filthy floor as he tugged her out the door. The next moment they were sprinting down the street, dodging carts and oyster sellers.
“Stop them!” someone shouted.
From nowhere, the gang of street urchins reappeared. But this time, the older children lunged at them, grabbing at their clothes and trying to block their escape.
“The money!” panted Miss Ryder. “Throw them the coins!”
He scooped some out of his pocket and tossed them backward. The children’s pursuit ended abruptly as they dove after the money.
There were angry shouts and the sounds of clattering. Evidently, the scramble for the money had blocked the narrow street. He didn’t dare look back.
“A hackney!” For a miracle, there was a cab standing on the main road. They flung themselves into it.
“Park Place!” he gasped to the driver. The conveyance clattered off up the road.
For a few minutes neither of them spoke. They were both struggling to catch their breaths. He glanced over at Miss Ryder. Her bonnet was askew, revealing light brown hair pinned into a disheveled bun. There was a smudge on her cheek. She was rubbing her wrist where the ruffian had seized it.
He caught her eye. Mischief suddenly lit her face. She smiled.
The next moment, they both burst out laughing.
She clasped her hands. “The way that you knocked their heads together! It was exactly like something from a pantomime!”
“That was a most excellent notion of yours, to throw the coins!”
“I knew that I should find my pocketbook! I just knew it!”
He shook his head. “If I had not seen it with my own eyes, I should not have believed it possible. How on earth…?”
She took a deep breath. She was clutching the pocketbook to her chest. “I cannot believe it myself! All I knew was that I must have it back. Of course the money is gone. But the important thing is….” She stopped herself. Her smile faded. “Well.”
The hackney rattled west toward Mayfair. He waited for her to finish her thought, but she didn’t. “Well. It seems that we both find ourselves a little short of the ready at the moment. I believe that I must have been robbed in the tavern that I… Well.” Why had he told her that? “My cousin borrowed money of me earlier this evening. All I have to do is find him and borrow some of it back, and I will be able to sort out your travel arrangements.”
“But I cannot accept…” She broke off as the hackney passed onto a better lit stretch of road. “Why, you are hurt!”
“Oh. That.” He touched his cheekbone. It was tender. “I was distracted by the shopkeeper, and failed to duck the other man’s blow.”
“But you will have a bruise!”
He shrugged. “It was worth it. I taught him that a gentleman may be as handy with his fives as any ruffian.”
“His… fives?”
He held up his hand. “His five fingers. His fists.”
“I see.” The corners of her mouth were twitching again. She seemed to be trying, and failing, to look stern.
Now that they had a moment in which to breathe, he was able to get a better look at her.
Her gown, he supposed, was dowdy. But that couldn’t signify. His friends often said that he never noticed gowns—only faces. And Miss Ryder’s face—the mischief in her smile, her slightly pointed chin and her dancing eyes—made him wish that he could look at it longer. Her cheeks were flushed pink and there was a stray tendril of hair next to her face.
But of course, he knew nothing at all of her family—let alone what had brought her to London on her own. And he had the strong intuition that she was in some sort of trouble. So it would be reckless of him to entertain any notions of… well, of anything.
He frowned to himself. The heir to a viscountcy didn’t marry a lady because he found her face charming, or her manner captivating, or because she involved him in unexpected adventures. He married a lady because she was suitable, and came from a suitable family.
“What is it?”
They had turned up Pall Mall. “I beg your pardon?”
“Is there some difficulty? You are frowning.”
He wasn’t used to a lady asking him such a direct question. For a moment he didn’t know what to say.
“If it will be too much trouble to find your cousin”—
“It is not that!” His voice came out too harshly.
She blinked. “Oh.”
Her hurt tone sent a pang into his heart. Oh, that was simply perfect! Now his heart was trying to become involved!
The sooner he found Monty and got his money back, the better. He would put Miss Ryder into a stagecoach, and out of his mind, and go back to having people leave him alone.
He drew his gloves back on, wincing slightly as the fine leather rubbed his raw knuckles. The bruised cheekbone, of course, would be impossible to conceal. Still, provided that his grandmother and mother didn’t see him, he ought to be able to get in and out of the house in a quarter hour.