Chapter 14
Ambrose caught the woman before she reached the ground, but it was a near thing. After picking her up, he booted the door open and entered with Tilly on his heels.
Bloody woman. His heart had nearly stopped when he’d seen her outside his carriage window. She had absolutely no idea how close she had come to disaster by being in this neighborhood. Anything could have happened to her, and no one would have known or found her alive again.
The thought made him go cold.
He lowered the unconscious woman onto the narrow cot and studied her.
She was thin, pale, and slight, which carrying her had attested to.
Her face was bruised and swollen, suggesting she had not long ago suffered whatever hell it was that put her in this condition.
Ambrose felt his anger rise that someone had raised a hand to her when she clearly would not have been able to put up much resistance, especially if it was someone whose strength was far greater.
“Ruby,” Tilly said, dropping to her knees beside the cot. “Open your eyes now.”
The dog moved to sit by his mistress’s head and growl at them some more.
“Do not touch her, Tilly. He might bite you,” Ambrose said.
“Nonsense, he’s a good boy. There now, it’s all right,” Tilly said, opening her reticule.
Ambrose watched her pull out another twist of paper.
“Do you have an endless supply of sweets?” he asked.
“Yes.” She held out a piece of what looked like marzipan to the large black beast with equally black menacing eyes.
He sniffed it and her hand, and then, considering he was likely hungry, the animal had the good manners to take it without removing a finger.
She then opened the paper and laid it on the floor.
The dog began to eat with ferocity then.
Looking around the tiny space, Ambrose thought about the new housing project.
It would help people like Ruby and get them out of this hell.
There was a small fireplace, unlit, which was no doubt due to her being unable to find anything to burn.
A box sat by the door that contained clothes and other things.
There was a chair, plus the bed. Sparse, cold, and a living hell, he thought.
“So you came here, putting yourself in danger, to find a woman you met once, who has a missing sister?” he reiterated to Tilly, who was bent over Ruby.
“Yes.”
“Just to be clear, you offered her a position, and she did not take it, so you decided to track her down, here, in this hellhole?”
“It was my decision alone to do so.”
“Which in no way justifies your rash actions, Tilly,” he snapped. “Had I not been passing and seen you, you could even now be in the hands of someone with nefarious intentions.”
“You sound like the hero in one of those dreadful novels—”
“Madam, I warn you, my anger is still strong. Therefore I suggest you do not continue to annoy me.”
She made a dismissive pffting sound, which had his fists clenching to stop from reaching for her. Ambrose wasn’t sure if he’d shake her or hold her close.
“Where are your parents? I doubt they would approve of your reckless actions.”
She ignored his question and tended the girl, but Ambrose would be asking it again when he had her full attention.
His eyes settled on the back of her ugly brown bonnet. The long coat matched and hid the lush figure beneath.
The soft moan had him moving slightly to look at the woman lying on the bed. Tilly was stroking the hair back from her forehead.
“That’s it now. Open your eyes, Ruby.”
She was oblivious to the dirt under her knees and the squalid conditions. Her only worry was for this young broken woman. A reluctant surge of admiration swept through him.
His sisters were good people, but would they do this? Come here and save a woman? Violet, definitely, but maybe not the other two.
“Miss Wilson,” the woman whispered, trying to rise.
“Now, Ruby, you just lie still, please. We don’t want you fainting again,” Tilly said, holding her in place. “Can you tell me what your dog’s name is so I can calm his fears?”
She was smiling now. Gentle and sweet, neither of which she was with him. It made her look softer, and Ambrose felt a perverse need to make her look at him that way.
“B-Barnaby. It was my father’s name,” she whispered.
“Well, that’s a fine name for a fine dog. Now, Ruby, I need you to tell me what has happened to you so we know how we can help,” Tilly said in a no-nonsense voice.
Ruby, looked up at Ambrose. He forced his lips into a tight smile. He wanted Tilly out of here before trouble came calling, which it would when the locals realized two people from the world beyond the East End borders were here.
“This is Ambrose. He is a friend,” Tilly said. “He wants to help you as I do.”
A huge lie, but he didn’t challenge her on it.
“Who hurt you?” Tilly asked.
Looking down, he noted the dog was about to eat the paper, and he didn’t think that was healthy, even for a dog, so Ambrose picked it up out of his reach. The dog glared at him.
“Dill. A man. He wants me to be his girl, but I don’t want to. I had packed my things, but before I could leave to come to The Iris Club, he came here to force me,” Ruby said in a weak voice.
“A man did this to you?” Ambrose demanded.
Tilly shot him a look that told him to gentle his tone.
“Y-yes. So you see, I can’t work for you,” Ruby whispered. “He broke two of my fingers because I told him I was leaving to work as a seamstress for a real lady.”
“Bastard,” Tilly hissed.
Ambrose thought there was a special place in hell for a man who would inflict such pain on someone as vulnerable as Ruby.
“Barnaby bit him hard enough to get him to leave, but I’ve been scared to go in case he is lurking nearby,” she whispered.
Which likely meant she’d been existing on little food, as had the dog. Ambrose hated when his life of indulgence slapped him hard in the face, like it did now. He had so much, and others, like Ruby, so little.
A loud thud on the door had Barnaby growling.
“The door. Lock it,” Ruby said quickly, but it was too late. It was already opening.
A large brute of a man entered. He stopped just inside the door and looked at them, assessing them as a possible threat to what he wanted.
“Dill, I presume,” Ambrose said, eyeing the villain.
“Who are you?” Dill demanded.
Ambrose shrugged out of his coat and dropped it and his hat to the floor. He then peeled off his gloves, and they followed.
“What are you doing?” Tilly demanded. “You can’t fight a man such as him.” The fear in her voice was real.
“Do you believe I am too gentlemanly, Miss Wilson?” Ambrose did not take his eyes off them from the doorway as he spoke.
“I believe you are mad to contemplate it. The man is the size of an ox,” she said, coming to his side.
Ambrose wasn’t sure whether to be pleased about her worry or insulted by the fact that she didn’t think he could hold his own.
“Step back and care for Ruby, Tilly.” When she didn’t move, he snapped, “At once.”
For perhaps the first time since he’d met her, she did as he asked. He heard her murmuring something to the injured woman.
“Who are you?” the brute in the doorway demanded again.
He’d met this sort before. Deliberately intimidating and a bully.
“Lord Talbot.” Ambrose used his most pompous voice.
“Why are you with my woman?” Dill demanded, not impressed by his title one bit.
“Now there is where, I believe, Miss Little differs with your assessment of your relationship with her.”
Dill frowned.
“Sorry, let me rephrase that so you have a clearer understanding. Miss Little, Ruby, has no wish to be in a relationship with you.” Ambrose watched the man closely, waiting for a sign that he might strike.
“She’s mine!” Dill bellowed.
“I’m not!” The words came out of Ruby with surprising force, considering the pain she was in.
A low growl had Ambrose looking down to see that the dog was now at his side, teeth bared, glaring at Dill.
“Easy boy.” He settled his hand on the dog’s head. Ambrose had no wish for a stray kick to harm him, even as a dog bite would serve the man right for hurting Ruby.
“She’s mine, and no one’s saying different!”
“I’ve always found men who would harm a woman to be cowards. Weak-kneed imbeciles who cannot get a woman’s attention without using their fists,” Ambrose said. The dog made a sound that to him sounded like agreement. “Are you deficient in other ways, perhaps?”
Dill frowned, but Ambrose was not about to embellish on that, as women were present.
“I’m going to kill you!”
“Well then, Dill, I think we should take this outside, as there is surely not enough room in here for me to teach you a lesson in manners,” Ambrose said, wanting to get the man away from Tilly and Ruby.
“I ain’t going nowhere without her.” Dill jabbed a beefy finger in Ruby’s direction.
“No, Ambrose. Please don’t do this,” Tilly said, and he could hear her desperation.
“He won’t leave until I teach him some manners, Tilly. All will go well, I promise.” He bent to retrieve the bill clip that held bank notes from his pocket. “If you win, I’ll give you this, and we’ll leave. If I win, you leave and never touch her again.”
“I don’t trust men like you.” Dill jutted out his jaw.
“And yet it is not I who has used his fists on a woman much smaller than himself, so perhaps it is not you who could be termed a man. In fact, bully, thug, and coward suit you a great deal better.”
Color flushed Dill’s cheeks. “Right, I’m killing you!”
“You can try,” Ambrose said calmly.
“I’m coming back, and you better be here, Ruby!” Dill roared.
Ambrose heard Ruby’s whimper and Tilly’s assurance he would not get near her again. He was going to make sure that never happened.
“Outside now, and there will be plenty who’ll watch as I beat you to a bloody mess,” Dill said with a smirk on his face. Clearly, like Tilly, he believed he’d win. “They’re my people, not toffs like you.”
After these words, the man walked out the door.
“You need to pack all of Ruby’s things, Tilly, and be ready to leave the minute the fight is over. If something should stop me from helping you, get in a hackney and go,” Ambrose said.
“No!”
He shut the door on Tilly’s cry. Dill had disappeared, but Ambrose caught up to him, and soon they were in the small lane below.
“He thinks he can take my woman,” Dill was saying loudly to the people milling about. “I’m going to show him otherwise.”
Ambrose looked around as a circle formed.
He was alone in a neighborhood where most of the inhabitants likely loathed the aristocracy.
He needed to keep his wits about him and use all the skills Charles and Bram had taught him.
His shoulder still ached from last night, but that would not stop him fighting.
Dill raised his fists and started circling Ambrose.
“Teach him some manners, my lord!”
Perhaps not everyone was in Dill’s corner.
“Make him hurt, Dill, then we can steal everything he’s got on him!”
But most were.
A fist swung his way, and Ambrose struck out with his leg just as it connected with his jaw, making him see stars. His kick landed, and Dill stumbled back with a loud “Oomph.”
The noise was deafening now as people cheered them on.
“Keep your fists up, Ambrose!”
Of course she’d not obeyed him. Circling, he saw Tilly standing between a young boy and old woman. Pale and scared, she looked close to tears. He looked around for Ruby and found her behind Tilly, leaning against a wall with Barnaby at her side.
Tearing his gaze away, he focused on the angry man charging at him and hoped that this was not the place where he met his end because he had things he wanted to do with his life.
Shooting Tilly a last look, he had a sudden urge to make her part of those plans.