His words seemed to take some of the wind out of her sails, though not for long. “But if Merton and Grace are with me, I do not see the problem.”
His mother patted Thea’s hand. “I shall accompany Grace. It really would not do for you to go. It could cause a problem if anyone sees you.”
“I must say I agree,” Grace added.
Thea took a sip of tea and puckered her brow. “What if I remain in the coach with the shades down?”
Worthington rubbed his cheek. “Someone would have to stay with you. One never knows who will be in the area.”
Had everyone gone mad? “Worthington, may I speak with you alone?”
Grace rose from her perch on her chair. “I’ll call for the coach. Ladies, will you come with me?”
Thea glanced at Dom before following Grace and his mother out of the room. Once the door was shut, he turned on his cousin. “What the devil are you about even thinking of allowing her to come with us?”
Worthington narrowed his eyes. “Did you see the look on her face? She is coming whether we want her to or not. Do you want her to show up with just a footman in tow?”
Dom slumped back in his chair. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He was the head of the family. Thea and his mother should do what he wanted them to. “There must be some way to stop her?”
“Short of locking her in her bedchamber, I doubt it.”
He straightened. “That might work.”
His cousin shook his head. “Someone would let her out in very short order. You’ll soon learn that when you marry a woman with her own mind, your chances of getting your way greatly decrease.”
Dom wanted to groan. If only he had settled for a suitable bride, but the idea of another man touching Thea ended that line of thinking. Worthington had to be wrong. He had merely given in too easily. Once they were married, Dom would have more control over Thea. After all, a woman had to listen to her husband.
* * *
With the days getting longer, it was still light when the two black coaches pulled up in front of a large house on the outskirts of Mayfair. Dotty fiddled with the veil Grace had loaned her. The lacework was made in such a way that she could see out of it, but no one would be able to make out her face. That had settled Dom somewhat, but he still wasn’t happy. Well, as Grace said, sooner or later, he would have to get used to Dotty taking actions needed to save others.
The three gentlemen and the four large footmen carried pistols. Matt also brought a purse of coins to give to Miss Betsy in case that was the only way to get the women back.
Dotty had known about girls from the country being taken up to work as prostitutes. It had happened to one of the girls from their small town. Unfortunately, the young woman had died before anyone could rescue her.
A man who seemed familiar loitered on the street near the next building. When he faced her, she recognized Hatchet, one of the Runners from today.
As she settled back against the soft squabs to wait, Dom took her hand. “It goes against my grain, but Worthington is right. You are safer with me and the veil is heavy enough that no one will recognize you.”
Her heart thudded, making her a little breathless. He would be her husband in a few weeks, and she did not wish to fight with him. Yet she had a feeling that it was important to Dom to think he was in charge. “You mean I may come?”
“Yes.” His stern tone matched the grim look on his face. “But you must remain by my side. Clutch my coattails if you need to.” His voice softened. “This will be a shock for you, I’m sure.”
She wanted to kiss his cheek, but the veil would have gotten in the way. “I have little doubt you are right.”
One of Matt’s larger footmen knocked on the door, then stood aside. A man dressed as a butler, but brawny with a nose that had been broken, opened it and stood in the entrance.
Matt edged himself in the doorway. “We’re here to see Miss Betsy.”
The man bowed. “I’ll bet you are. We cater to all here.”
Dotty’s hand was tucked in Dom’s arm as they followed the servant into a large hall decorated in pale blue and gold. Small Roman statues stood on pedestals. She glanced at the ceiling that was covered with naked couples twined together.
She had never seen anything like that before. A tug on her arm brought her attention back to her betrothed. Then she made the mistake of looking at the servant.
The butler’s gaze raked Dotty’s cloaked form. “Let me know if you want it a bit rougher, and I’m happy to oblige.”
Dom’s arm turned to stone, trapping her hand next to his body. “Miss Betsy,” he snarled. “Now.”
